


Violaria, Larkspur, Hydrangea

by daphnerunning, Galiko



Series: Fantasy AU [3]
Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Character Death, F/M, Fivesome, Incest, M/M, Original Characters - Freeform, Polyamory, Pregnancy, Rape, Shapeshifting, Soul Bond, Threesome - M/M/M, mentions of noncon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 14:42:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 45
Words: 602,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17664611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daphnerunning/pseuds/daphnerunning, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galiko/pseuds/Galiko
Summary: Fantasy AU, part three.





	1. Chapter 1

The Academy is so much more disturbing now that Lord Izumi, heir in the North, can hear and feel it _speak_ and _breathe._

 

As a visitor in the past, it had just seemed like an enormous castle with huge white walls, enormous windows, and dozens of towers filtered about the acreage allotted to the strange place. Now, as a wizard—gods, but Izumi _hates_ referring to himself as that—the walls clearly are all magicked, every single object more or less breathing with some kind of energy, and walking down one hallway can have a distinctly different feeling than the last (often, not in a positive way).

 

In the middle of the night, well after the sun has set, the Academy is surprisingly quiet within the Emperor’s wing. Rei would usually be out and about here, finally awake as soon as the moon rises, but he’s locked himself up within his own chambers for the evening, the sounds of violin filtering out from behind the enormous wooden door. Sequestered within the back of the tower is the room reserved for Mika, who sleeps the same sleep he’s slept for over five years.

 

With a letter from Arashi in hand, Izumi quietly nudges the door open, intent on leaving it by Mika’s beside—but the sight of Shu within the room makes him pause, taking a step back. “Sorry,” Izumi says by way of greeting, tucking the letter back into the pocket of his robes. “I thought you’d be resting.”

 

Shu looks up, with something quiet and pensive behind his eyes. He moves, a little slowly, as if he’s been sitting in the exact same position for several hours, or perhaps it’s simply because he’s aged considerably since he and Izumi had met. He pats the love seat next to himself, forcing a small smile. “You’re not disturbing anyone in here, you know. Come, you had something to say to him?” He reaches out, carefully stroking a flyaway strand of hair that even now, he refuses to smooth down. “I like to think he can hear me, but even my foolish hope doubts that he can read.”

 

Izumi hesitates a moment longer before stepping inside, carefully shutting the door behind himself. “It’s just a letter from Arashi,” he says, dropping himself down onto the cushions next to Shu. “It was addressed to me, but…well. I figured Mika might want to hear what kind of nonsense the idiot is spouting today, too.” He shrugs awkwardly, pulling the letter free and sliding it onto the table next to Mika’s bed where he sleeps, unmoving, chest rising and falling slowly as if he really is just that—asleep, and nothing more. “I can read it later. You look tired.”

 

“I don’t sleep much anymore,” Shu confesses. “I only dream. And I spend most of my time here, lately, after…”

 

_After the stories spread. After the general population was so afraid of me that the king asked me to spend more time at the Academy. After I forgot all my reasons to be anywhere but at his bedside._

 

He clears his throat, blinking at Izumi, and shifting close enough that his shoulder just brushes against Izumi. “What’s the news from outside? Well, out of this room, I don’t suppose they let you outside, yet.”

 

Izumi rolls his eyes as he leans to the side, pauses for a moment, then abruptly slides an arm around Shu’s waist, hauling him closer. “You say that with the assumption that I care about the general population,” he dryly says. “Why is every wizard here obnoxious and skittish? I know I’ve asked the same question for years, but I still hate it.”

 

“Most of them come to the Academy young and scared. They don’t know anything about the world, much less…” Shu purses his lips, thinking of words. They’d come to him so easily when he was training Mika. Everything had been easier, with Mika. “Feeling the currents of energy moving around is enough to make them think they’re seeing things out of the corners of their eyes all of the time, but you’ve never had too much difficulty with sensing magic, have you?”

 

“I did that even before I was…this,” Izumi wryly agrees, pushing a wave of his hair back behind his ears. “At some point, you should come out of this room and whip them into shape. Rei’s too gentle with them, they deserve to have someone actually hassling them for a change.”

 

“But then they’d be looking at me,” Shu points out. “And no one would be here with him.”

 

“We can trade.” Izumi’s eyebrows raise. “I’ll watch him when you want to go teach. I’m not sure what to do about them looking at you, though; I think you look good, so what’s the problem?”

 

“The problem,” Shu says quietly, reaching over to carefully brush the back of his hand against the back of Izumi’s, “is what I see. They’re afraid of me. _Me_. The children.”

 

“They’re afraid of any wizard stronger than them,” Izumi lowly insists, switching his grip to press his hand atop Shu’s as he leans in closer to him. “Locking yourself up in here and secluding yourself will only make it worse. Come on, Shu, I need some backup. I’m sick and tired of babies thinking I’ll draw a sword on them when I’m not even allowed to have mine in here.”

 

“You don’t need a sword in the Academy. It’s just you and children.” Shu’s mouth twists in a wry smile, and he squeezes Izumi’s hand, as if he’s leeching the warmth from his body, or maybe his soul. Five years on, and he still feels…incomplete. Empty, in parts. “Do you ever step on them by accident?”

 

“What part of it is an accident?” Izumi deadpans. “Don’t tell me I don’t need a sword. I like having it. It’s mine. I’m still a knight, and I’m still the Captain of the Kingsguard, even if I’m on an…extended vacation.”

 

“Much to the delight of the current Captain,” Shu says, amused. “I think he’s quite happy to give up his responsibilities now that duty calls—temporarily, of course. Shall I read the letter? Mika wants to hear it.” He’s long-since stopped pretending to be embarrassed at his feelings that Mika is alive and speaking through him. Even if Mika were conscious, the innate connection they’ve always had _(the connection you forced on him, he never asked for it, that might be why he hasn’t woken up)_ is gone.

 

“It might be lewd,” Izumi says, sighing as he draws back, flopping back into a corner of the love seat. “Because it was technically for me. But go on, I’m sure Mika would like to hear your voice speaking inappropriate things.”

 

“Forget it,” Shu says, turning back to his vigil. “I have no desire to read your mail. I thought…well. It’s unreasonable to expect someone to wait faithfully forever without hope.”

 

“Oh, stop it,” Izumi carelessly says, dragging Shu back with a hand on his wrist. “Read the damned letter. Mika’s favorite thing was to watch Arashi plow me.”

 

Shu huffs, but unfurls the letter, then pauses. “Is this—did he dictate this? I’ve seen his handwriting, it made me wonder if he knew that pens should be held with the hands.”

 

Izumi snorts out a laugh. “Probably,” he snickers, draping himself over Shu’s back, hooking his chin over his shoulder. “Maybe he got the king to do it. I know that’s unlikely, but let me have my fantasies.”

 

“For all I know, it’s valid,” Shu says with a shrug. “I know they’ve spent quite a bit of time together lately. Right.”

 

He clears his throat.

 

_“It seems like madness that I haven’t seen you in so long, even though you live so near. The worst part is, even though I’m older and probably much better at it these days, I’m too damn busy to sneak into the Academy the way I used to. You should be grateful. I made a very ugly woman, and these days I’d be a very BIG ugly woman!_

 

_Are you going mad? I bet you’re going mad. I’d be going mad and I’m not even a supernatural creature. I hope at least you’re making friends who like you for who you are, and not for the things you can do. Sorry I don’t write more often, I always say I will, but then when I get back to my room I get overwhelmed with sadness that you’re there and I’m alone._

 

_If I were there now, I’d shove you against the wall and make you beg for me. Oh fuck damn they’re here to take the mail and they never come very often love you sorry say hi to them_

 

Shu folds up the letter, lips pursed in amusement.

 

Izumi groans. “I hate him,” he mutters, shoving his flushed face down into Shu’s shoulder. “I knew he’d do this. He loves knowing I’m suffering, I swear it.”

 

“Having lived within a day’s ride of the Palace most of my life,” Shu says dryly, petting Izumi’s hair as if on command, “I can confirm they take mail all the time, at any hour. He’s trying to kill you.”

 

“I’ve lived in the Capital most of my life now—I know damned well they take the mail all the time!” comes Izumi’s muffled voice as he slumps forward, snaking his arms around Shu’s waist with a slow shudder. “You smell good,” he mumbles helplessly. “Keep petting me, please.”

 

“Careful.” Shu’s hands are careful, but entirely skilled, touching Izumi sweetly over and over. “You know I’m not allowed to take this far.” His voice is pitying, and eminently full of understanding.

 

“But it’s _you_ ,” is Izumi’s petulant response. His head butts into Shu’s hand like an overeager cat, which he might as well be. “If I make something explode, you can stop it. These rules are ridiculous, I’ve _always_ thought they were ridiculous.”

 

“It’s not just to protect anyone else,” Shu says with a sigh, and lets himself indulge just a bit, working his hands down Izumi’s back, then up his spine. “Your magic gets stirred up, if you don’t know how to control it, none of your spells will be right for days. Do you _really_ want to give them a reason to toss you into remedials? _More_ years of training, locked away from the outside world?”

 

Izumi slithers his way further against Shu in one, smooth movement, trapping him against the arm of the love seat as he purrs and arches underneath the stroke of Shu’s hands. “I’m going to get tossed back into remedials every week anyway,” he groans, turning his head aside to kiss the side of Shu’s neck. “Because no one knows what to _do_ with my magic. I give up, got it? Let me make you feel good, pl~ease…”

 

Shu wavers, gods help him. He’s tired, he’s busy, his heart hurts, and Izumi is warm, sweet, and a dear friend. “…Lie back,” he finally says, loosening his collar. “I won’t be able to focus on containing you if I’m in the throes of it as well, but at least I can give you a release.”

 

Izumi exhales a low, grumbling noise, slumping against Shu as he paws uselessly at his chest. “That’s less fun,” he mutters. “Let me suck your cock at least. Isn’t this place like, magically dampened to the nth degree? So to hell with it. Mika won’t mind.”

 

Shu stands abruptly, letting Izumi slump back to the settee. “I can’t do this,” he says, looking anywhere but Izumi. “I’m sorry. I’ve been an overindulgent teacher before.” He looks down at Mika, and lines of pain appear at the corners of his eyes. “It doesn’t end well.”

 

“I’m not Mika.” Izumi scowls up at him through the mussed fall of his hair. “I don’t need your magic. I want you because I _like_ _you_ , not because I need you. There’s a difference. And while we’re on this topic,” he swiftly adds, jabbing a finger in Mika’s direction. “You weren’t overindulgent. _Arashi_ is overindulgent. I was there when you were both stuck underneath Eichi’s rule and couldn’t even touch his hand, and you were constantly keeping him safe. Completely different than overindulgent.”

 

“I smothered him. I didn’t let him flourish on his own, I was overprotective.” The pain lines increase, but Shu doesn’t look away from the bed. “I know that now. I think I inhibited the growth of his soul. I tried to shape him into what I thought he should be, and look at him. I—I like you too, you know that, I just…I can’t ever let anything like this happen to you.”

 

“You saved him from being _killed_.” Izumi has heard the story half a dozen times now, between Shu’s tearful confessions, Mao’s vague retellings, and Rei’s occasional translations of what he Hears from Shu’s mind. “Shu, I’m not your student in the same way, and if you try to treat me like that, I’ll blow myself up. Eventually—eventually you need to know this wasn’t your fault. None of it was.” Izumi swallows, glancing away. “I’m going to fix him eventually, regardless, so this whole conversation is moot.”

 

“Exactly.” Shu turns, suddenly brisk, and puts his hands on Izumi’s face, holding it firmly, eyes glittering with intent. “No one else can do it, Izumi. Everyone has tried—except you. So if you think I’m going to compromise even one second of that for pleasure, mine or yours, you’re entirely mistaken. And if I hear about you taking remedials, I’ll spell you into a pair of those awful old trap-undergarments we used to wear.”

 

“If you do that, I’ll kill you,” Izumi bluntly says, staring up at Shu, “with my sword, not my magic, so I know it’ll work. I’m going to die if I don’t get to fuck something more often.”

 

“No you won’t.” Shu’s lips thin in slight amusement. “You haven’t died yet, and you’re more than halfway there.”

 

“I’ll die. I will absolutely die. Look at me, I’m a creature made to be on its back. It’s my natural state. Shu, _please._ ”

 

“If I made it for six years— _while bonded to a sex wizard_ —then you can make it another month.” Shu strokes Izumi’s hair, not unsympathetic. “I know you’ve been sneaking around with my lord’s little brother, too. How does he do it? Does he eat it, or unspin it?”

 

“ _You_ aren’t the sex wizard, or the drake,” Izumi grumpily mutters, shoving his head back into Shu’s hands, which are nice and warm, in spite of all appearances. “Ritsu isn’t around often enough. He eats me, a little, but I eat him more.”

 

“If my studies were correct,” Shu says, while his hands tangle busily in Izumi’s hair, stroking sweetly over and over, “then some contact like this should alleviate the symptoms quite a bit, no?”

 

“It…helps,” Izumi reluctantly says, his eyes lidding as he slumps forward into the touch, submitting to the petting like a cat that’s long-starved for attention. “But only if it’s applied often and _thoroughly._ Skinship is better. Maybe take your clothes off and let me lay on you naked.”

 

“Can you be trusted?” Shu asks, without any malice. “I will if you swear to me that you won’t try anything. I’ve had to be the responsible one for so many years, don’t keep trying me, _please_.”

 

“…Explain to me again why you _want_ to be responsible.”

 

“I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea,” Shu says with a sigh, and shakes his head. “Why do I always wind up in these situations? First him, then Rei, now you…I don’t really want to be responsible for anything horrible happening, you know. Especially not if it could lead to Mika not waking up.”

 

“Who’s to say that us having sex right here, right now, _wouldn’t_ wake him up from whatever magical output it produces?” Izumi archly replies, his eyebrows slowly raising. “It’s not like anything my magic does is terribly damaging, when it’s out of control. Also, I can tell you why this happens—you’re beautiful and attract the prettiest people, and we’re all like this.”

 

Slightly mollified, Shu relaxes down, sitting on the settee again, resting a hand on Izumi’s thigh. “I don’t want to chance it,” he whispers, shoulders drooping. “I took too many chances with him. Please, be a friend, stop asking.”

 

When phrased like that, there’s no option. Izumi heaves a sigh and settles back down, throwing up a hand. “Fine. I’m not asking. But can you at least kiss me for two seconds? Then I’ll feel like I’ve done something and that’ll make this horrific biological compulsion stop. Please? I _promise_ I won’t take it further than that.”

 

How could he refuse? Shu nods, then turns, kneeling and straddling across Izumi’s lap, taking his face in his hands as he reaches out mentally, muting his bond with Rei. It wouldn’t hurt, but he has no patience for discomfort today. His lips are soft, plush, as he presses them against Izumi’s, hands shifting up to card through Izumi’s hair.

 

Izumi relaxes almost immediately with a soft, pleased sigh. He sags back, his lips parting as his head tilts back into Shu’s hands, his tongue gently flicking out to run over Shu’s lower lip. He sits on his hands—literally, _sits on them_ , because he knows himself, and he knows better. If a few kisses make this horrific longing calm down, he’ll take it.

 

“You’re so beautiful,” Shu murmurs against Izumi’s lips, hands gently massaging Izumi’s scalp, sitting back on his thighs. “I just want to watch you all the time, you know that? Open your mouth, let me taste you.”

 

“You can watch me whenever you want,” Izumi groans, his eyes fluttering as he gently nips at Shu’s lower lip, the tips of his fangs—always present now in some regard, less obtrusively right now—score against his skin. “Someone like you…praising me…nnh, that makes it better…”

 

Shu smiles against Izumi’s mouth, shivering as Izumi nicks his tongue. “I’m starting to think this isn’t about the drake side of you at all,” he says softly, hands sliding down to brace on Izumi’s shoulders. “I think you’re just sort of a slut.”

 

Ah. Well.

 

Izumi swallows audibly, the bright pink flush that slides over his cheekbones deepening. “Y..you…ah…” He leans back, chest heaving from the effort. He _wants_ to grab at Shu and pull him close, to kiss him hard enough that he can taste every bit of that perfect mouth, and he trembles, overstimulated and hating that he has to be _good_. “You c-can’t say things like that, or I’ll get…way too excited.”

 

Shu pulls away, blushing himself, hiding his face for a long breath. “S-sorry. I’m…not entirely under control, you bring it out. That was my fault, if you have to be good, I shouldn’t encourage.”

 

“I don’t want to be good,” Izumi moans, throwing his head back. “Tell me I’m a pretty slut again and I _will_ just come, damn it. Or push my head down and let me suck you off. Sorry. Sorry, I just had to get that out of my system. I swear I’m behaving, I’m even sitting on my hands, gods.”

 

“I know, I know. I’m proud of you.” Shu pets Izumi’s face again, and kisses his forehead. “I know it’s awful. You’ll be free of it soon, and you’ll be all the stronger for it.”

 

“All this is teaching me,” Izumi darkly says, trying not to whimper when Shu touches him again, “is that I’ll never come back to the Academy ever again.”

 

“Stop that. I live here. Come back so I can tell you things that make you come.”

 

“ _Stop it_ ,” Izumi hisses, both hands coming up to cover Shu’s mouth. “Stop it, every time you say things like that, it makes me harder! I want you to boss me around and let me be your sex slave, don’t you get it?”

 

The look on Shu’s face is startled, almost frantic, and he pulls back, standing abruptly and striding out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

 

Izumi curses, hauling himself forcibly to his feet as he hurries to follow after him. “Shu! Shu, I’m sorry, I know that was too far, I—“

 

Upon ripping the door open, the sight of not just Shu greets him, but a very ruffled, ragged looking Natsume. The last five years have been kind to him—not exactly in the height department, because he’s still small and slight enough as the day Izumi met him, save for perhaps an inch or two—but in beauty, certainly, even underneath the layers of dust and the current state of disarray that his hair and clothing are in. Sharper cheekbones, a pouty mouth, long, pretty fingers, all of that brilliantly red and white hair—

 

Izumi stops, and takes a breath. He’s too riled up to be _looking_ at people too closely right now.

 

“Lord Shu.” Natsume sounds out of breath, and his golden eyes are bright from the obviously recent use of magic. “We just returned from the North. A wizard bloomed, and I think…it’s important that you see him.”

 

Shu smoothes down his hair, as embarrassed about being caught as if he were still a teenager, cheeks bright, eyes downcast. “Ah, I see. Is it in my particular oeuvre? Surely, Wataru would be better suited for—“

 

“Did I hear my name? Amazing!”

 

“Oh, no,” Shu says with a sigh, though his eyes brighten.

 

“ _You_ need to see him,” Natsume insists, grabbing Shu’s hand without hesitation. “Mao can explain more, he was the first one on the scene, but—mm, just come with me, I’ll _show_ you.”He casts a look back at Izumi, lips pursed. “You can come too, I _guess_.”

 

“Not if it’s terribly emotional,” Shu says immediately, taking Natsume’s hand in return and squeezing it. “Izumi, stay with Mika, I don’t want it to upset you.”

 

“I’m not going to blow anything up,” Izumi protests, folding his arms across his chest. “I’ve been at this for long enough, I don’t need to be _coddled._ ”

 

Natsume shrugs, and already begins the process of tugging Shu away. “A whole village was captured by the Inglings,” he lowly says. “They did lots of strange things to the humans there. That’s when this kid bloomed—Mao found them, and the whole city. Half the Dawncloaks in the Academy are there now, investigating and taking, um, _samples_.”

 

“You said this was in the North, right?” Izumi calls after them, hesitating for a moment longer by Mika’s door before striding after them. “Not near Sena, I hope? Tell me it was further out.”

 

“Quite far out,” Wataru assures him. “Not just far to the west, but as far North as any village I’ve seen. Why, the natives hardly spoke the common tongue. At least, those left alive hardly did, I had to speak the drake’s tongue to them.”

 

“The drake’s tongue?” Shu asks, eyes wide. “Truly? _That_ far North? I didn’t know those stories were real.”

 

Izumi perks up, and immediately catches up entirely with a few brisk steps, intent on being part of this conversation. “That far North is still in my dominion,” he insistently says. “You should let me speak to them.”

 

Natsume ignores him. “In the village,” he lowly says, “there were many humans still alive, but very few able to still _speak_ to us—because they were in magical comas. Like Mika’s.”

 

Shu’s breath stutters, then dies, as his eyes burn. “I’m going,” he announces. “Wataru, take me there immediately.”

 

“Ah, that is, I cannot precisely…”

 

“I’ll take you,” Izumi immediately interrupts, grabbing for Shu’s hand. “As the Prince of the North, not as a wizard. Seal me, I don’t care. I’ll take you.”

 

“What’s taking so long?”

 

A rather haggard, annoyed looking Mao storms down the hall, his cape fluttering behind him. He pauses, taking in the expressions on their faces, and shuts his eyes, exasperated. “I _told you_ to wait until I had spoken to him properly.”

 

“I don’t like you,” Natsume bluntly says. “So I didn’t listen.”

 

Shu ignores that, ignores everything except the first _hope_ he’s had in years. “Take me to that village,” he says flatly. “Now. And tell me of this young wizard you found.”

 

Wataru spreads his hands. “Sorry,” he says cheerfully to Mao. “I think it’s more amusing to let my kitten do anything he wants.”

 

Mao sucks in a slow breath, and waves a hand, gesturing for Shu to follow. “I figured you would want to try and speak to him before we let him rest. If you want to go to the village itself…that’s something you’ll need to talk to the Emperor about. I don’t think you’ll find it to be…well. Something you can stomach.”

 

“I don’t care,” Shu says, though inwardly he quails. “If it will help Mika.”

 

“We don’t know that it will,” Wataru says gently. “Shu, my friend, this is a lead, but nothing more, not yet. Let those of us more hardy—“

 

“You’re needed in the West,” Shu interrupts. “Aren’t both of you supposed to be protecting the Sharps in the absence of its Lord? Wasn’t that the deal?”

 

“ _Shu_ ,” Izumi forcefully interrupts again, grabbing onto Shu’s hand. “Shu, I’ll go with you. I’ll go with you _right now._ Fuck talking to this baby wizard, what is talking to them going to do? Let’s go, I’ll escort you, we’ll investigate firsthand and find _something_ , you know we will.”

 

Mao stares at the mess that this conversation is becoming—specifically, at Natsume, who he wholeheartedly blames for this blowing up—and finally settles for, very flatly, “There’s no way the Emperor will let you leave. The entire area has been classified as a war zone. There are no survivors. The humans that remained are now dead.”

 

“No,” Shu says, with what he thinks is a huge amount of patience. “No, you said they were in comas—“

 

“They were,” Wataru interrupts. “And now they are not. There are…more things than just this that need to be investigated, my friend. Please speak to your bonded first.”

 

Izumi exhales a long, frustrated breath. “Fine. Let’s go talk to Rei right now, then,” he says. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll do it.”

 

Mao shuts his eyes, pressing a hand to the bridge of his nose. “I,” he slowly says, “am going to deal with the new wizard. You can continue to debate this, or join me, but the facts are what they are. Have a good night, Excellencies.”

 

“Wait,” Shu calls, and walks swiftly, getting in front of Mao without grabbing him, eyes blazing. “Tell me exactly what you came to tell me. You found a small wizard at this town in the mountains taken over by Inglings, but—but the Inglings _never_ take prisoners. It must be something else, disguised that way.”

 

Mao hesitates, then sighs, his shoulders sagging. “It was readily apparent what they were doing,” he settles upon. “They were using the village inhabitants as test subjects. For what kind of experiment, we don’t know exactly, but…”

 

“Inglings aren’t that smart,” Shu whispers. “They—they have some military sense, but no more than a pack of animals. We’ve never seen them… _plan_ like that, what could they possibly…hope to gain? Is it—the little wizard who bloomed,” he realizes, as he speaks. “He killed them all, didn’t he?”

 

“Yes. He did.” Mao spreads his hands in a helpless gesture. “I can do nothing but report back what I saw, Excellency. It was an act clearly done by the Inglings—their magic, their _scent_ was everywhere. Even if they were commanded by an outside force, it was still their doing.”

 

“They’re planning something.” Shu is serious about that, his voice quavering. “We thought it was just, we thought it was just them bringing up something horrible from the West, what are they doing in the North? How did they even get up there? We have to talk to that wizard.”

 

“As I’ve been saying,” Mao patiently says, “it would be best for you to interview them. Thoroughly. There’s little information to be had in the village that our teams haven’t already picked up—so why don’t we go do that, and determine our plan of action from there.”

 

“You’ll need Master to translate for you,” Natsume says, dangling at some odd angle from Wataru’s arm. “This one hisses.”

 

Shu nods firmly. “Izumi, are you coming? You know the area best, you might be able to pick up something that the rest of us miss.”

 

“Absolutely.” Izumi steps up next to Shu’s side. “I want to talk to this kid myself.”

 

“They’re in the fourth containment tower.” There’s no use arguing with wizards like this once they’ve made up their mind, Mao knows that by now, and so he just shakes his head to himself, and starts walking. “This is not permission to do anything after we speak to him,” he tiredly says. “Please keep that in mind.”

 

“The containment tower?” Shu licks his lips. “Izumi, you can’t go in there without being sealed up. There’s too many wild energies that could leak into you.”

 

“Seal me, then!” Izumi exhales a frustrated sigh. “You’re going to want my help. If this person is from _that_ far North—they aren’t going to even know I’m their lord, but they’ll take one look at my hair and spill every single secret you want to hear. I look the part of an Icebred. _Everyone_ knows.”

 

Wataru gives him a sheepish little smile. “Ah…about that. You see…well…”

 

Shu sighs. “What did you do, Wataru?”

 

“Merely took inspiration from you, dear Izumi! So, you see, he may…recognize you. I _may_ have stolen your face and voice to speak to him. You’re quite right, he’s very fond of Icebred.”

 

Izumi stares up at him, takes a breath as if to speak, then thinks the better of it, and merely turns his attention entirely back to Shu. The greatest revenge on Wataru _is_ ignoring him, after all. “Whatever. Take me in with you. I’ll handle it.”

 

Shu raises his hands to Izumi’s face, lips moving silently. First, a heavy weight drops onto him, sealing him off entirely, a more complete seal than he’s done in ages. Then, another brush of magic heightens cheekbones, alters eye color, shortens hair. “Just an illusion, nothing real,” he promises. “Just enough that you look like your own brother.”

 

“If I’m ugly, I’m not happy,” Izumi bluntly says. “Just so you know that. Ah, that’s itchy,” he mutters, rubbing at his arms as if that’ll do something to take the seal off of him. “I don’t like that. Why is it like that?”

 

“Come along,” Mao says, suppressing a yawn. “I’ve been traveling for four days straight. I’m begging you.”

 

Wataru’s fingers tingle, and he brushes his fingers along the base of Mao’s neck, lending him a little surge of energy, only to feel it shock and rebound against him. He frowns. “I was just trying to help, why do you have such a strong block set up?”

 

“Because he’s always around wizards who try to do things to him without asking,” Shu says briskly, following along behind Mao, taking Izumi’s hand.

 

“That’s the one,” Mao wearily offers up, stepping ahead as if nothing had happened. “You were part of the problem back in the day, Excellency. Your, ah, apprentice, is worse.”

 

“Best, I think you _mean_ ,” Natsume sourly says, clawing his way up Wataru’s back to hang onto him by his neck. “You’re just a good test subject, being so _human_. It’s the only thing you’re good for. I’d be a better spy _any day_ —“

 

“I’m sensing that old hostility coming back,” Izumi deadpans underneath his breath, giving Shu’s hand a squeeze.

 

“My apologies, Excellency, I’ll remember to work on my spying abilities as soon as I have the time,” Mao disinterestedly says. The stairwell that he leads them to forks oddly, four shimmering, alternate walkways somehow present all at once, and the moment he steps foot onto one of them, the other three disappear, leading them straight to the containment tower of his choosing.

 

Shu grits his teeth to walk through the doorway. Something about that damn thing always sets his teeth on edge, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “How old is he? Wataru, I’ll be counting on your translations, of course.”

 

“Of course,” Wataru agrees, the image of his body shimmering, until Izumi walks alongside them, with Wataru’s characteristic lilting step.

 

“I hate this so much,” Izumi brightly says, switching sides to stand on Shu’s _other_ side. “Because I would absolutely have sex with myself, wow.”

 

Natsume hisses at him, and Izumi ignores him. Mao just sighs. “He’s ten,” he answers. “So on the younger side, obviously, but he seems to be in good shape, and in good spirits. Just…obviously shaken up.”

 

“Does he know that his entire family is dead?”

 

“Oh, yes,” Wataru assures him. “Though I’ll admit, I’ve done my best to tell him what the Academy is, with rather limited success.”

 

“Probably because no one understands the nonsense that spills out of your mouth at any given time—god _damn it_ , I can’t even look at you, I hate this, this is too weird.”

 

“There is unfortunately no law against shapeshifting like that.” Mao stifles another yawn, and leads them down the winding hall. With every other stride, they pass by a door, some far more sealed than others, with the turbulence of magic hidden behind them occasionally making those seals visibly expand and shrink at will. It’s something that only wizard and Enhanced can see; something that Izumi is certain would freak the hell out of Arashi, and that thought just makes him grumpier, more and more displeased that he’s here, and not anywhere near someone that will _touch him._

 

“Here.” Mao pauses outside of the door, flipping out a key from the jangling mess of them at his hip, and unlocks the door. The key is obviously magicked, and the seal on the door dissipates the second it turns.

 

The child inside is small for ten, at least by Capital standards, but his body is already stocky with layered fat and muscle, clearly acquired by hard living in harder conditions, designed to make it through long dark winters. His hair is black and short, eyes black and round, skin golden from long hunts in the sun. At the sight of Wataru and Izumi, his eyes go even wider, and he drops to his knees, forehead to the ground, speaking in a disjointed, rapid-fire language.

 

“He welcomes the Great One and his brother,” Wataru says, nodding to the child, then speaking back. The boy looks up, then sits back on his heels, still looking awed. “What do you want to ask him, Sena?”

 

Confronted with a tiny child that clearly thinks he’s some kind of a god, Izumi falters for a moment, all thoughts of plans fluttering away from his mind. “Ask him…if he can remember, if there were any other creatures with the Inglings,” he quietly says. “Maybe then we’ll know if this was all orchestrated by something with a few more brains.”

 

Wataru translates, then waits as the child starts speaking, arms curled around himself as if to protect himself from attackers. “He says there were four-legged creatures, and then the Big Ones, that must be the berserkers from his description. He says there was also…” He frowns, and says something in that odd language, then waits for the response. “Yes, he says there was a man on fire, and he can’t describe it any better than that.”

 

Shu frowns, then asks, “Like this?” and activates his magic, letting it visibly surround him with its aura.

 

The child shouts, and scrambles back, yelling rapidly. Wataru barks a word, and the child calms, though his shoulders tremble, obviously trying to be brave.

 

“Yes,” Wataru says, almost unnecessarily. “Just like that.”

 

“So just…other wizards?” Natsume hazards from behind Wataru, peering around him to frown at the child. “Or others that use magic like us?”

 

“Something like that,” Izumi murmurs, brow furrowed. “High level creatures, I guess? I don’t know, Wataru would know better. Ask him—were those creatures the ones that put his village to sleep? Did he see any of that?”

 

Wataru shakes his head, not bothering to ask. “We already asked him. He was one of the first to be put to sleep, unfortunately. He remembers hearing sounds of someone approaching, and being confused that there was no alarm from the sentries. Then, someone put him to sleep. The next thing he remembers, he was waking up, seeing bodies all around, and blooming.”

 

_Useless._ Of course a child would be, Izumi isn’t sure what he expected, but it’s still disheartening to know that the only living witness to something that _sounds_ so useful to their cause is in fact, entirely useless. “…We just need to go there,” he quietly says. “If he can’t tell us anything about what really happened—there’s no point in making him relive it.”

 

“And if all you find is a pile of snow where bodies used to be?” Wataru asks mildly. “Is that worth a journey of several weeks?”

 

The child says something else, and Wataru frowns. He follows up, waits for the response, then says, “He says…well. I’m not entirely sure I should tell you what he said, you may be irresponsible with the information.”

 

“I’ll rip my beautiful hair from your skull. What did he say?”

 

Wataru looks at Mao.

 

Mao shrugs where he stands. “They still have to get past Rei if they want to go North,” he points out. “To which I say, good luck with that. Tell them.”

 

Wataru nods slowly. “Very well. He says that the dark ones came on the night of their Coldfire celebration. They were waiting for the appearance of the Old Gods, and in the morning, he saw their tracks. I believe he means the drakes were present at some point during the night, so they should know more.”

 

Izumi goes quiet, his eyes sliding to Shu. “That sounds…useful,” he softly says. “Want to go drake hunting?”

 

“And how do you plan to speak to them?” Wataru cuts in, before Shu can answer. “Have you learned the Cold Tongue, little wizardling?”

 

“You also can’t leave the Academy yet,” Shu says softly. “I’ll go. Wataru, come with me.”

 

“First of all, don’t fucking call me that, like I’m a child,” Izumi snaps to Wataru, frustration making him bare his teeth. “Second of all, you don’t have my permission to go galavanting about _my_ lands wearing _my_ face. I don’t care if there isn’t a law against it here, I’ll make it one in my country. _Third of all,_ you bent the rules just fine for Natsume—“

 

“There were extenuating circumstances,” Mao interrupts tiredly. “And he was always under the care of a fully titled wizard.”

 

“Fine! Then send me with one. I know the North better than all of you, they’ll talk to me because I look like this, and—I’ll bring Ritsu, I’m _sure_ he speaks the language.” Izumi whips his attention back to Shu. “Shu. Who would you rather go with? _Honestly_.” _Mika’s mine, too, damn it._

 

“Ritsu cannot go with you,” Wataru says, looking quite unperturbed by Izumi’s outburst. “As he is currently fighting a war of succession in the Shadowlands from a usurping cousin.”

 

“It’s—“ Shu purses his lips, emotions warring with intellect. “It does make sense for you to come, you’re capable in a fight and you look the part, and I could seal you properly.”

 

“So _take me_ ,” Izumi begs, grabbing for Shu’s hands again. “And between the two of us, we’ll find something. You _know_ we will. My mother always said that my father spoke to her in common tongue, as clear as day, so just because these humans don’t know how to speak it doesn’t mean the drakes don’t.”

 

Shu nods, and squeezes Izumi’s hands. “I didn’t know that. Let’s go tell Rei.”

 

Wataru raises a hand, but they ignore him, running out of the tower, leaving the small child and frustrated spies behind.

 

Mao shakes his head, and stretches up on tiptoe to tug down an extra blanket from a shelf in the child’s room. “It’s cute that they think Rei will allow it,” he says with a shrug, smoothing the weariness from his face with a smile as he kneels next to the newly bloomed wizard, and drapes the blanket securely about his shoulders with a reassuring pat to one of them.

 

“Lord Shu, out of his reach again, after last time…” Natsume’s lips purse, and he shakes his head, tugging on Wataru’s hand. “We should head back _out_. And you need to change out of that skin. Too weird, I don’t want to kiss that.”

 

“You’re the only one in the kingdom, I believe,” Wataru says airily, but as soon as he exits the tower, his shape ripples, revealing his usual sharp features and long sweeping hair. “Do you think Rei will let them go? Or have we forgotten in favor of being back where it’s warm for a few nights before he sends us out to do something else horrible?”

 

Natsume clambers his way right back up Wataru’s back, arms laced around his neck as he half-dangles there, half-remains suspended by his own magic that make him virtually weightless. “I wish he’d just send us to do _everything_ ,” he bluntly says. “Lord Shu’s too…mm, he’s not up to it. I think Lord Rei knows, and won’t let him go.”

 

“Agreed. But I rather think,” Wataru muses, “that Lord Rei has something else intended for us, he hinted as much when I delivered our report. A shame, I wanted to chase you around the Academy like an unrestrained tomcat for a while.”

 

“Hmmm.” Natsume sinks his nails in slowly, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Can we do that part first? I’m not ready for _another_ job right _now_.”

 

“We can try, kitten,” Wataru says softly. “Come, I’m trying to be good and pretend I care about the world until it becomes real. You must feel that big things are coming. Even I can feel it.”

 

“…Stop making me think about it.”

 

Natsume’s head thunks down against the back of Wataru’s shoulder. “I can _tell_ I’m about to be bombarded by a million and one things and my head _hurts_ and I don’t want to See anything new that’s going to be _bad_ ,” he mumbles. “Be nice to me instead.”

 

“Magically?” Wataru reaches back, tweaking one errant strand of hair. “I could make another chapter in those illusions you like, is that what you’re asking for?”

 

“No. No magic. Just nice.”

 

“No teeth?”

 

“…Teeth are good, in moderation.”

 

“….Excellent. Preferred location?”

 

“Soft and warm.”

 

“Sick of life on the road? Let’s see if we can kick someone out of a bedroom, or perhaps steal a containment dungeon.”

 

“Lord Rei should give you your tower back,” Natsume grouses, stuffing his face into the back of Wataru’s neck, nuzzling down into his hair before working his way around to the side of his neck instead. “Then we could make it a _nest_.”

 

Wataru’s stride doesn’t break, his arm curling back to stroke up Natsume’s back. “Do cats have nests, little love? I think he gave my tower to some other wild wizardling, when I was out on assignment for years at a time. Well, why don’t I just…” He turns to the side abruptly, kicking down a door, startling some teenage wizard hunched over a desk. “Out, please! Your elders have urgent business!”

 

The wizard sputters, obviously thoroughly taken off-guard by the appearance of two Nightcloaks suddenly appearing in his doorway, but he moves quickly all the same, scooping up his work materials in a hurry and scuttling out of the room. “Kitties don’t have nests,” Natsume says with a little shrug, sliding down off of Wataru’s back. “But they still want places that are soft and warm. Mm, you should definitely take this tower back.”

 

“I’m not even certain I’ll let that child return here,” Wataru muses, and breathes in deeply, stirring the air with his finger, letting his energies seep into this physical world. The bed in the corner ripples, shifting from a standard twin into a large circle, a giant basket stuffed with dozens of pillows and coverlets. “Is that the kind of nest you want? Will you be my little bird for the evening?”

 

Natsume dives into it before even kicking off his shoes, the messy tatters of his traveling clothes fluttering behind him as he buries himself into the pile of pillows with a satisfied groan. His booted feet kick out over the edge happily. “ _Perfect_ ,” he breathes, reaching back to let his hair down from the mussed, pinned up bun at the back of his head. “It smells like you. I think you shouldn’t give it back, not even a little.”

 

“Then here we’ll stay,” Wataru declares merrily, stripping off his outer robes to launch himself into the basket bed. “Perhaps we can commandeer this as a honeymoon suite, of sorts? Mm, too soon?”

 

Natsume’s feet kick slowly, and he props his head up on a pillow, side-eyeing Wataru with pursed lips. “Propose properly or not at all,” he forwardly says. “I’ve been a married woman before. I deserve better the second time.”

 

Wataru’s face falls into shadow, and he lets out a sigh, crawling over to snake an arm around Natsume’s waist. “Sorry,” he whispers, uncharacteristically serious, the words close to Natsume’s ear. “I forget. Do you still miss him?”

 

Natsume growls, low and rumbling, though his own face scrunches up in an attempt not to get weird and sniffly. It works, mostly. “Dumb,” he mutters, smacking a hand against Wataru’s cheek in a rather ineffective slap. “It’s been _years_. I like thinking about him in good ways, not depressing ways, don’t be _dumb_.”

 

_But into whose arms would you run, if he were here right now?_

 

Wataru doesn’t ask. He never will. He does tug Natsume closer, nuzzling into his hair and breathing in deep. “Life with me is a lot of work, as much as I’d wish it otherwise. You deserve to be with someone who lets you lay around and be elegant all day, if that’s what you want, you always seem to hate my little adventures.”

 

Natsume’s head cocks, a frown slowly turning his mouth down. “You’re bad at this. Aren’t you?”

 

He worms his way around in Wataru’s arms to face him, smacking both of his hands to his cheeks this time, a scowl on his own face. “Life with you is exactly what I _wanted_. You’re dumb if you think I want to be stuck up in a place like this and doted upon. I’d kill myself. I _hated_ being locked up in High Harbor, being hidden away, treated like I was something that couldn’t be touched…I hate being cold and dirty, sometimes,” he admits. “But everything else is the best. I’d pick you and this over him and what was any day, Master.”

 

Wataru falls uncharacteristically silent, and stays that way for a long, long moment, blue eyes unblinking. Then, finally, he sits up, tugging Natsume into his lap. “My people don’t marry,” he says at last, stroking Natsume’s hair. “We find nothing so horrible as the idea of having to keep a lover by pledge, not everliving love. But we have a saying.”

 

He says it, in lilting, alien syllables, his breath almost seeming to sparkle as it winds out from his mouth, curling around Natsume. “A rough and poor translation, I suppose, would be…even I, who praise and prize creativity above all other skills, could never imagine a life that I want to walk a different path from you.”

 

“That’s better.” Natsume flops forward into Wataru’s chest, splay-legged over his lap with his hands immediately entrenching themselves into the veritable waterfall of his hair. “That’s _much_ better. I’d rather you say that to me every day of my life than get married again.” His eyes glitter as he looks up, head tilted. “When I remade your wings for you, I expected you to use them to leave me, and go…anywhere but here,” he confesses after a short pause. “But then you didn’t. So. That’s when I knew.”

 

“You didn’t See it?” Wataru asks, stroking a hand up and down Natsume’s spine, voice gentle. “I know you saw the two of us being rather naughty, but…”

 

Natsume’s face flushes, and he tugs on Wataru’s hair. “No. That’s…the only thing I’ve ever Seen about you.”

 

“Ah? Really? How intriguing, I assumed you’d just been keeping everything else to yourself. Does it mean anything, if you don’t see something about a person?”

 

“I don’t know,” Natsume admits, pulling a handful of Wataru’s hair forward to fiddle with it. “But it is kind of nice, in a way. I See too many things about some people. It’s stressful.”

 

“Really? Who’s the worst? Do you think it’s because I’m so unpredictable? Ah, that _must_ be it!” Wataru decides, voice full of delight.

 

“Izumi. The king. Uhhh…sometimes Lord Rei. Never that annoying spy of his, I never can see what he’s doing.” Natsume pouts at that. “Did you know, in the Isles, if you want to get married, you have to go tame three wild dolphins, then kill the one you bond with the most and eat it?”

 

“ _Fascinating_ ,” Wataru breathes, eyes alight. “We should start our own tradition, and convince our children that it’s been around for hundreds of years. Perhaps you should have to juggle increasingly dangerous appliances for my affection.”

 

“Mmm…no.”

 

“A long-jumping competition, perhaps? Against hearty natives?”

 

“Nah.” Natsume’s fingers deftly slide down, plucking open the laces to Wataru’s tunic.

 

“Ah, I know.” Wataru shifts, letting Natsume strip him, the laces falling apart even before Natsume can reach them. “An endurance test. See who can withstand being kissed the most.”

 

“…Better,” Natsume hedges, gleefully sliding his hands down Wataru’s chest, filling his hands with hard muscle. He leans forward, the messy fall of his own hair tumbling over his shoulders. “You’d probably win because you don’t need to breathe, but that’s fine.”

 

“How presumptuous,” Wataru says gleefully, tossing his shirt to the floor. “I need to breathe just as much as you or any human, kitten. I just don’t usually do it with my mouth, which is almost always busy with other things.”

 

“Uh huh.” Natsume looks skeptical, but he also looks far more interested in Wataru’s bare skin than the actual mechanics of how he lives and breathes. He presses himself close, nuzzling up the side of Wataru’s neck, breathing in deeply as his hands splay over his chest. “I bet it’s through your hair.”

 

“It might be.” Natsume is adorable, fun to tease and please and respect all at once, and Wataru wraps a leg around his waist to keep him close, mouthing a kiss to the side of Natsume’s neck. “I doubt I’ll ever tell you just how, though. What would be the surprise in that?”

 

“ _Obviously._ Don’t tell me, I need to figure it out myself,” Natsume says on a sigh, head tilting to the side when Wataru’s mouth presses against his skin. “Mmn. Hey. Make sure Lord Rei _knows_ what we were doing while avoiding him. Okay?”

 

“I’ll open a broadcast to the clouds right now, if you want,” Wataru breathes, hands sliding down to squeeze the firm flesh of Natsume’s ass. “There isn’t a thing about you that I wouldn’t be proud to show off, little one. I’m the luckiest eldritch abomination in the world to be with you.”

 

“We don’t need…ahh…a broadcast,” Natsume gasps, his head falling back as he sucks in a sharp breath of air. Wataru’s hands are _very_ strong, and in his grasp, there’s a fine line between being pampered and being snapped in two—which is a _delightful_ contrast. “Just want you to m-mark me up…a little…nnhh, tomcats are bite-y, keep that in miiiind.”

 

Wataru pauses, affronted. “Does my acting leave something to be desired, that you need to remind me of something so basic?” he teases, then flips Natsume over with one hand, surging up behind him. “Don’t ask for accuracy, kitten. Unless you want barbs.”

 

Natsume muffles a squeak into a pillow, even as his back arches and he one-handedly yanks up the ruffles of his skirt. “Kinda intrigued? Don’t though, don’t,” he hastily adds over his shoulder, knowing that Wataru _would_. “I have to be able to _walk_ later. Mostly.”

 

“I could always carry you in my arms,” Wataru purrs into the back of Natsume’s neck, before his teeth sink in deep there, and his hands travel down, rucking up Natsume’s skirts, letting his hardness press up against those soft curves. “But more important is that I have you. _Now_.”

 

A groan wells up in Natsume’s throat as he sinks down to his elbows, face buried down into the mess of down pillows that is their makeshift nest. He arches back, his knees spreading further apart as he rubs eagerly back against the hard line of Wataru’s cock, suddenly and sharply focused on nothing _but_ that. It’s achingly hot even through the fabric of Wataru’s breeches, and Natsume lets out a few ragged pants, feeling his own cock twitch painfully between his legs. “ _Now_ ,” he agrees breathlessly. “All the way in me.”

 

“Be a good kitten,” Wataru rumbles, letting his voice drop down deep, his hands curling around to gently stroke Natsume’s thighs before grabbing hard, knowing how that soft flesh dimples around his fingertips. “If you want me to breed you properly. Spread your knees.”

 

Natsume whines, his face hot as his knees scoot further apart, so far apart that he can feel the burn in his thighs. His fingers curl against the down blankets, kneading in as his nails dig into fistfulls of the stuff. “I love it…when you sound like that,” he breathes, the muscles in his thighs trembling underneath the press of Wataru’s fingers. “Make a mess out of me, please…”

 

“And you sound like you’re in heat.”

 

Wataru’s voice comes as a low rumble, for just a moment before he starts to press inside, a hurried spell slicking him up when he doesn’t have time, can’t possibly spare the effort to do it any other way when he has to be inside Natsume _now_. It’s been too long—they’ve been together, but busy, busy, busy, and the cold ground where they’ve camped hasn’t exactly been romantic. He sighs, first with effort, then with relief when the head pops inside, stretching Natsume obscenely around him. “Good kitten…just hold still…”

 

The mewl that leaves Natsume’s throat is low and rumbling as Wataru’s cock splits him open, spreads him apart and leaves him panting, groaning into the bed with shivers wracking his body. It’s been awhile, but it’s impossible to even have that on his _mind_ when Wataru is here now, filling him so completely that it leaves him panting already, his own cock leaking onto the blankets underneath him.

 

The huge, warm press of Wataru behind him makes him sag. He whines again, feeling his hair stickily, sweatily plaster to his forehead and flushed cheeks, and he tries to arch back, only to find himself more or less unable to move courtesy of his position and the press of Wataru against him. “Fuck me,” he moans, cutting himself off by biting into a pillow with a hungry little growl.

 

“I love it,” Wataru groans, one hand sinking into Natsume’s hip, the other traveling up to toy with his chest, slowly tweaking one nipple, “when you lose control.”

 

He lurches forward, burying his cock in as deep as it’ll go, then grinding in with sweet little circles of his hips, stirring Natsume up inside with every thrust. “I love,” he pants, yanking Natsume back onto his cock every time he slams in, “when you sound…like a horny, hungry, _man_.”

 

Natsume’s voice breaks from a squeak to a deep, rumbling groan when Wataru’s cock slides in so deep that he has to swallow audibly, _swearing_ he can feel it all the way up to his throat. “You…nhh…ahh, fuck, when you fuck me like t-that, how else am I supposed to soooound,” he whines. Wataru’s cock is big enough that he couldn’t close his legs even if he tried—and he’s certainly not trying right now, not when the slap of skin against skin makes his eyes roll back. His chest aches, the pinch of his nipples going straight down to his cock, which throbs with every single thrust. “Wataruuu..nhhh…” His face, burning hot, rubs down into his pillow, as if that’ll somehow help. It doesn’t. “Nooothing feels as good…as you…in me…”

 

“Good thing for you, that’s where I want to be.”

 

For a moment, Wataru just _pauses_ , grinding inside as hard as possible, staying there where he’s as deep as he can be, holding Natsume down on his cock. “Just breathe into it,” he murmurs. “Feel me in you, kitten? That’s where I belong, mm? You wish there were even more? I can feel you _aching_ for me, swallowing me in so deep…”

 

Natsume’s chest heaves for a moment, his eyes squeezing tightly shut when tears threaten to leak out from them. His hands need uselessly into the bed, and he shudders hard. “It’s…it’s so muuuch…f-fuck, _fuck_ …”

 

Then he takes Wataru’s advice, and _breathes_ , inhaling, exhaling, inhaling again, then exhaling as a low, ragged sob. He rocks back, toes curling as he does, trembling when he squeezes down around Wataru’s cock. Natsume slowly forces himself up onto his hands, mouth falling open at the change in angle that makes it feel like Wataru is even bigger when he leans back into him.

 

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Wataru’s voice is a purr, trilling deep in his chest, rumbling so much that Natsume could feel it in his bones. “To be joined like this…maybe I won’t let you go afterwards, hmm? Maybe I’ll just keep you here, my kitten, mine to play with…mine to breed…” He bites in again, deep into the juncture of Natsume’s shoulder and neck, holding him in place as he fucks in deep.

 

The words are good. The words make his cock drip, make him shiver and grind back mindlessly, but it’s the visceral, physical _pleasure_ that makes him lose himself. Wataru’s hands on him, grabbing his hips, pulling him back—Wataru’s teeth, sinking into his skin, marking him, holding him still—that thick, huge cock, stuffing him full, making him groan, making him writhe back helplessly when it’s already far too much and there’s nothing else to do but _feel_.

 

He comes wordlessly, sobbing as he spills, panting for a full breath that he can’t catch. “Good— _good_ , fuck, that’s…” Another movement of Wataru inside him, and his cock pulses again, another, slick, hot mess joining the first.

 

Wataru smiles, tucking his face into Natsume’s shoulder, breathing in his scent. For the first time, as they’re together, he finds himself slipping into his native tongue, spilling words that double as spells, tinkling like bells, making the air ripple and sing. Something about the magic of the Academy, the utter submission of Natsume, the vulnerable pledge he’d given, all synergize in the air around them, until the air itself pulses with magic, possibilities sparkling all around them. “Close your eyes,” he whispers, filling Natsume’s belly deep inside, cock pulsing hard. “Close your eyes, my love, and trust me.”

 

Natsume swallows thickly, his thighs trembling, arms wobbling all the way down to his fingers as he obeys, his eyes sliding shut with a last, shivering exhale. “When you sound like that,” he whispers in turn, “and speak words like that…” _It reminds me how perfect this all is._

 

“You’re what makes it perfect, love.” Wataru slides a hand up to Natsume’s neck, turning his face to press a soft kiss to his lips. The magic in the air starts to settle, even as it coalesces around Natsume, forming a hard shell invisible to anyone’s eyes but Wataru’s. If Rei had thought that his previous warning had been strict, he’d be wetting his pants with horror at this one.

 

“…Warm,” Natsume mumbles, pleased, and butts his head back against Wataru’s, rubbing his cheek slowly against his. “Mmn. You’re in my head. That’s nice.”

 

“Mm, you can feel it?” Wataru smiles, curling his arms around Natsume’s waist, still very much buried inside. “You’re so talented.”

 

Natsume flops into Wataru’s arms, warm and floppy and _very_ pleased. “I’m the best,” he petulantly says. “Obviously. Nn, but I like this, stay in me for awhile…everywhere.”

 

Wataru lets his energy soak into Natsume, not being shy or trying to hide it from him anymore, nuzzling into the back of his neck. “Sometimes I think it would be nice to just absorb into you, live as a voice in your head.”

 

“Good.” Natsume squirms back against Wataru’s chest, purring low in his throat as he basks in _Wataru_ , inside and out and everywhere. “That would be…really good. But then you wouldn’t touch me like this, and that’s less good. Do both.”

 

“Always, my little love.” Wataru’s hand strokes absently over Natsume’s stomach, feeling it full and tight, pulsing under his hand. For a creature of ideas and air, feeling such a strong love is distracting, and more of a spell than anything he could speak.


	2. Chapter 2

 

“I can’t go with you.”

 

The words pain Shu to say, at least as much as it must pain Izumi to hear them. A storm of emotions roils through him, enough that a decade ago, something would have exploded into violet fire. He’s older now, can’t afford mistakes like that anymore, doesn’t want to hurt anyone anymore.

 

A thick traveling cloak rests in his arms, along with a large pair of saddlebags, magicked to be far lighter than they actually are, stuffed full of supplies as he rests on the doorway to the outside world, facing Izumi. “Rei needs me. A mission. I know you can’t understand, but…all I can say is that the king’s life is at stake.”

 

Izumi, a bag already on his shoulder, sword fastened on his hip, and the robes of the Academy long-shed, merely offers Shu up a flat stare. “Don’t tell me that,” he says, grabbing the cloak up from Shu’s arms. “Then I’ll end up heading back to the Capital with you. Let me guess, _I_ don’t have Rei’s blessing about this, either.” 

 

“I very carefully did not ask,” Shu says, and drapes the bags over one of Izumi’s shoulders. “But I will tell you two things. One, you won’t be able to do a thing about what I’m fighting. And two, if you don’t find a fully-trained wizard to go with you and seal you, you won’t make it North of Campton. Every sensor in the country will go off.”

 

“Great,” Izumi mutters, shrugging up the bags with a sigh. Thinking about Leo possibly being in danger _has_ to be a dull worry at the back of his mind—Shu will be there protecting him, that’s as good as it could possibly get. The smartest thing he can be doing is what Shu _can’t_. “I don’t know who’s stationed up that way,” he confesses. “I feel like I haven’t seen the outside world properly in a century.”

 

“No one that will help you,” Shu says bluntly, “unless you kidnap and force them, but a trained wizard will at least be able to fire off a message for help. Your best bet is to find a younger one that’s easily intimidated, if you can’t convince them. And whatever you do, do _not_ even so much as kiss someone before getting yourself a traveling partner, or anyone will be able to find you from anywhere in the country.”

 

“…Maybe wait a few days before sending this off, then,” Izumi says with a snort, pulling out a letter from his tunic to pass over to Shu. “I was looking forward to coaxing Arashi out into the wilderness, I have to admit.”

 

“It’s like you _want_ the king to die,” Shu mutters. “Sorry, that’s not fair. I’ll give it to him, it looks like I’ll be working with him quite closely. Damn, but I wish you were already trained. Your best road isn’t the fastest, but if you cut East to High Harbor, you’ll have the easiest time going North. Maybe you can even convince Kanata to go with you.”

 

“Maybe if I wasn’t constantly stuck back into remedial classes, I’d be done already,” Izumi sourly says, his mouth twisting at the idea of Kanata. “He owes me, I suppose…but he’s so—wait.” His expression suddenly brightens. “I have an idea. No, I have a _great_ idea. I’m going to enjoy myself. If anything happens with the king, though, _contact me_. I’m actually furious that no one has said anything to me before now, and this is why being here stresses me out.”

 

“I shouldn’t have told you as much as I did,” Shu says with a sigh, straightening Izumi’s hair, tucking it behind his ears. “Don’t mention it to anyone. Don’t even say it out loud, don’t write it in a letter. Forget it, if you can.”

 

“I hate that,” Izumi bluntly tells him. “I hate that so much. I should be the one protecting him, so don’t ask me to forget about it and not worry.”

 

Shu’s eyes narrow. “The best thing you can do to protect him is to forget it. You can’t be with him, you’d be more likely to get him killed than to help him. Trust me, like I’m trusting you by letting you go.”

 

Izumi’s expression is decidedly cross, but he nods all the same. “A fair trade, then,” he says. “Protect my king, and I’ll find a way to fix Mika.”

 

Shu’s face softens, and he nods. “Thank you.” He leans in, sealing Izumi properly with a touch to his temple, and takes him in a swift kiss. “That should hold you for a while. The farther you get from me, the more dawns you live through, the weaker it’ll get. Get someone to seal you within three days, if you don’t want to be noticed.”

 

“Too bad I love being noticed,” Izumi murmurs, his mouth twitching into a half-smile as he forces himself not to grab Shu and kiss him again. Every nerve in his body vibrates from _needing it_ , and for not the first or last time, he considers contacting Ritsu, begging him to give up whatever fight he’s having in the Shadowlands to come with him instead. He shakes himself off, curling his fingers around the sword finally at his hip again after so long. “Take care of yourself,” he says, hand on the door. “And don’t send anyone after me, no matter what you hear.”

 

“Thanks, that’s not terrifying at all,” Shu says dryly, though his face is worried. “Don’t let those lizards bully you.”

 

Izumi offers him a flippant wave before stepping out the door, and heading straight to the stables. Finally— _freedom_.

 

Bitch is as fast as ever. The occasional, recreation-only ride hasn’t changed a thing in here, and Izumi hits the road as fast and hard as he would have five years ago, as the Captain of the Kingsguard. _Which I still am_ , he irritably reminds himself, though he does forgo wearing that familiar pin on his lapel. Arashi has it in his stead, and it has to stay that way, for now.

 

High Harbor is an achingly familiar sight after a long, fast ride, and Izumi breathes out a sigh of relief into the early morning air, inhaling the salt spray from the nearby ocean.

 

Bitch catches a rabbit between her teeth and eats it when Izumi leaves her tethered in the local forest and continues on foot into town. Demonic horses always draw too much attention, as does the tumble of silver hair from his head, obscured now only by early morning fog and the begrudging pull of his cloak over it.

 

Seeing an Academy outpost now, as a wizard, is a new experience entirely. He’s visited this exact one before, but now, the magic that encircles it is all-too visible, and forms odd rings about it, thrumming quietly as to not disturb normal humans when they tread near. Izumi hesitates before stepping up the stairs carefully, making sure that he doesn’t trigger something and already ruin this mission. When nothing happens, he reaches out and touches the door, which falls open underneath his fingertips, sensing who he is even with Shu’s seal in place. Being recognized as a wizard makes his lips purse, but he decides not to sulk about it…too much.

 

“Hello?” Izumi calls, pulling the cloak down from his hair and nudging the heavy wooden door shut behind him. It’s early, but—surely…well, _maybe_ there’s still some hivemind left between him and his target.

 

“Up here!”

 

Makoto ties his hair back hurriedly into a stubby little ponytail, shrugging on the yellow robes of a Dawncloak as he runs down to the base of his tower, opening the door and not looking at all surprised to see Izumi, plunging his feet into his walking boots. “I don’t have a horse, is that all right?”

 

Every single bit of reservation and worry flutters away at the sight of Makoto, and Izumi’s expression dissolves into relief. “Yuukun,” he breathes, launching himself forward to throw his arms around Makoto’s neck. “It’s fine, it’s completely fine—you look so _good_ , your hair’s gotten so _long_ …did someone tell you I was coming? Or did you just…”

 

“Had a dream about you.” Makoto smiles nervously, trying to resist the urge to bow his head and call Izumi _Milord_ like he’d done for the first several years of his life. “Every time I have, you’ve shown up, so…” He shrugs, then reaches up, frowning as he brushes fingertips hesitantly over Izumi’s browline. “Are you…sealed?”

 

Even after so many years, even after their bond being broken, being _eaten_ , there’s still… _something_ left, and Makoto touching him so carefully makes Izumi’s legs wobble.

 

“…Shu sealed me, before I left.” Izumi swallows, shutting his eyes, trying not to fixate. It’s been a test of sheer willpower over the past five years, but _this_ has to be one of the most difficult tests yet. “But he said…I needed to find someone in the next couple of days to do it again, and keep it there. Being so far away from him thins it out, and I can’t be found. Not right now.”

 

“Ah, that’s right, you’re not supposed to leave the Academy yet, right?” Makoto licks his lips nervously. “I’m not nearly as good at it as Lord Shu, you know. It might hurt if I do it, or at least be really uncomfortable. Maybe we should find someone better than me, I’m only a Dawncloak.”

 

“Whoever it is—“ Izumi hesitates, then sighs, glancing aside. “This is asking a lot,” he finally says. “But whoever it is, they have to come North with me. I…can’t think of any other wizards that will, unless I outright force them to at swordpoint or something along those lines. I didn’t even know if you would, but…I figured I’d come and ask. It’s fine if it hurts. I still trust you more than anyone else.”

 

“North?” Makoto brightens. “I haven’t seen my mother in years, are we going that far?”

 

“Even further. North of Sena, up towards the western border, along the wilds…” Izumi’s eyebrows raise enticingly. “We can make it a point to go _through_ Sena, and see your mother, and mine, and my girls…”

 

“North of Sena?” Makoto looks at Izumi like he’s crazy. “It’s fall, though. There’s no way we’ll get up there before the freezes. It’ll be impossible.”

 

“I’m Icebred, I’ll make it happen.”

 

Makoto’s face twists, and he gnaws on his bottom lip, trying not to be terrified. “This is really important, isn’t it? You wouldn’t ask me if it weren’t right?”

 

“It’s very important.” Izumi grasps for Makoto’s hands, squeezing them tightly. He tries not to watch the indentation Makoto’s teeth leave in that soft lower lip, or casually remember that Makoto’s just a bit taller than him, or that his hands are— _stooop it,_ he mentally begs himself, feeling the flush that starts to spread across his cheeks. “It’s…it’s about Mika. Not _just_ about Mika, but the reason I’m going…it’s for Mika, and for Shu. He’d go himself, but he can’t, so I’m trying to help as much as I can.”

 

“I, uh…” Makoto tries for a smile, and ends up with a shrug. “I don’t really have any idea about any of that stuff, you know? But…but if we go North now, I’ll die, right? Because you can’t work magic outside of the Academy, right? I could maybe make it up to Sena, but above that, where the trails die off…what could even be alive up there?”

 

Izumi shakes his head. “Tiny villages still exist up there,” he says. “They worship drakes like they’re gods, for whatever reason—but they’re made for the cold. A wizard just bloomed from up there, and…whatever, it’s not important, I’ll explain it to you as we go. Also…as much as my magic as a wizard can be sealed…there’s not much they can do about the Icebred parts. It’s innate.” Izumi wiggles his fingers, and lifts them to press them to Makoto’s cheek, leaving a tingling chill behind. “I can keep you alive and well.”

 

Makoto sucks in a breath, feeling as if he’s inhaling a hit of menthol directly into his lungs, but somehow more pleasurable. His shoulders tremble for a moment, and he whispers, “I’m not going to say no, Mil—I mean, Izumi. But I don’t know how much use I’ll be, so just…make proper use of me, then.”

 

Self-control is for idiots, Izumi thinks, and for a moment, he remains frozen, fingers curled against Makoto’s cheek, aware of little else except for the rise and fall of his own chest reminding him he’s alive—and _hungry_.

 

 _Whatever you do, do not even so much as_ kiss _someone before getting yourself a traveling partner, or anyone will be able to find you from anywhere in the country._ Shu’s warning rings suddenly, sharply in his ears, and Izumi swallows hard. “Hurry up and seal me,” he manages, voice wavering. “Please.”

 

Makoto’s brow furrows, and he nods. “All right. Come with me, I’ll make up the seals and circles upstairs.”

 

“Is it that much of a process?” Izumi bemoans, wobbling a little as he forces himself to stop _touching_ Makoto, no matter the effort it takes.

 

“Oh, no,” Makoto assures him, taking one of his hands and leading him upstairs. “It shouldn’t take more than a couple hours. I’ll probably be done by sundown.”

 

Izumi’s lower lip trembles until he bites it. _No, I was fine before, I can do this, I can wait._ “Sure,” he manages, clinging to Makoto’s hand in spite of himself. “That’s fine. We can…start traveling in the morning, then.”

 

“Sorry, you must be used to Nightcloaks, right?” Makoto says nervously. “Maybe you should ask one of them, I’m still really new as far as wizards go.”

 

“And be stuck traveling with a Nightcloak? No thanks,” Izumi says with a snort. “They’re particular as hell, you know? Even if they can do things faster, that comes with a price, and it’s usually that they’re _weird_. I’d rather travel with someone less experienced any day.”

 

Makoto gives him a smile of intense relief, and leads him into his room, shutting the door behind them, then spelling it closed with a quick circle. “Let me just bathe quickly, so I don’t get my energies tangled. Um, do you want to wait out here? I have a curtain.”

 

Izumi stares at him, trying not to vibrate out of his skin. “I want to climb in the bath _with_ you.”

 

Makoto squeaks, turns red, and flips his hood down over his face. “U-um, I think that would kind of, um, defeat the purpose, right?”

 

“Yes. I said I wanted to, not that I was going to. I’m trying to be good until I’m sealed, at least.”

 

Izumi exhales a shaky breath, and shucks his own cloak, throwing it into a pile on the floor that he promptly dumps himself into. “Go…do what you need to do,” he says, fluttering a dismissive hand. “I’ll be fine.”

 

It takes half an hour for Makoto to finish his ritualistic bath, emerging in his Dawncloak robes, not speaking at all as he walks in a counter-clockwise circle, then clockwise, then counter-clockwise again, laying first coins, then rope, then herbs in a circle on the floor. He takes a circle of white linen from a cupboard, lays it in the center, then nods to Izumi. “Kneel there, please. Naked.”

 

A suggestive comment lingers on Izumi’s tongue, but he bites it back. _Of course I have to be naked_ , he thinks, forcing himself up onto wobbly legs to strip out of his traveling clothes. It would be crude of him, of course, to comment on how good Makoto smells, or how much his longer hair suits him, or how _handsome_ he’s gotten…

 

Izumi shoves that all out of mind, and does as he’s told, kneeling neatly, and trying not to fidget.

 

Doubt creeps into Makoto’s mind, but he banishes it. He has to. Magic doesn’t work without confidence and belief, and that’s why he’s always struggled with any test that could take him past the rank of Dawncloak. He breathes in deeply, then starts to trace symbols on the ground with his finger, linking them in his mind, holding the image there until he gets to the end, pricking his fingertip with the blade of a ritual knife, then sealing the circle shut with an effort of will to infuse the blood.

 

Another fifteen minutes of meditation, and Makoto’s breathing is steady enough that he reaches out, finally trusting himself, and carefully touches Izumi’s temple. He recites the incantation silently seven times, each time envisioning the shape of the seals, imagining them locking Izumi’s magic down, sealing him into place. Finally, he repeats it out loud just once, ending with a flash of yellow light. “There,” he says, sweat beading on his forehead. “You can move now. Sorry, is it uncomfortable to wear? I’m sure it’s nothing like what Lord Shu or Lord Rei could do, heh, but I’m not exactly in their league…”

 

Izumi exhales a long, slow breath, opening his eyes. It certainly feels… _heavier_ than anything Shu has ever placed upon him, or anything Ritsu has as well. It’s more akin to wearing a heavy wool coat in barely chilly weather than something more appropriate, but it isn’t uncomfortable beyond that, and certainly something he can bear.

 

Of course, there’s only one way to test it.

 

He wets his lower lip with a flick of his tongue, his eyes lidded as he lurches forward, grabbing Makoto by the front of his cloak and dumping him onto his ass as he prowls over him, and seals his mouth against Makoto’s in a heated kiss.

 

The taste of Makoto on his tongue after _years_ makes something odd twist up into his chest, and when Izumi draws back, it’s only when he needs to breathe, with a sticky strand of saliva still connecting them. “…Seems good,” he whispers.

 

Makoto wobbles, then sags down to flop on the ground, his hip dragging a furrow through the seals he’d created. “P-perfect,” he squeaks. “I, um, couldn’t feel a thing. With, with magic, I mean.”

 

“Good.” Izumi follows as Makoto flops down, reaching back to unbind his hair from its thong and leave it spilling over his shoulders as he goes for Makoto’s mouth again. His teeth catch Makoto’s lower lip, scoring against it gently, and he grabs one of Makoto’s hands, placing it directly on the curve of his ass to give him that last little nudge of encouragement.

 

Makoto’s hand squeezes, hungry and urgent, and he lurches up, grabbing Izumi hard and holding him in place when he kisses Izumi over and over, tongue questing, eager. “Um, if we…” He swallows, breathing hard, eyes wide. “Th-the more you feel, emotions-wise, the faster the seal will wear down, just so…you know.”

 

“Good practice for you, then,” Izumi murmurs, panting as he surges down to kiss Makoto again, sucking on his tongue with a low, hungry groan. He palms down Makoto’s stomach, his fingers curling over the quickly hardening bulge between his legs. “Yuukun,” he breathes, his eyes fluttering. “Please.”

 

Makoto groans, not even wanting to think about how long it’s been since the last time he’s hand someone else’s hand on his cock, and lets his teeth scrape against Izumi’s lips, rubbing his hips up against Izumi’s hand. “Get—“ He loses the thread of what he was going to say, and shucks off his robes, dragging Izumi down on top of himself, squeezing Izumi’s ass hard. “F-fuck, I don’t have any oil…u-um, can you, maybe if you put it in your mouth…”

 

“Happily,” Izumi pants, though he makes no attempt to move southward when kissing Makoto again is so enticing that he doesn’t want to move. He sucks and bites at Makoto’s lips, squeezing the hard line of Makoto’s cock through his breeches and nearly coming just from _feeling_ how hard he is. He whines, his back arching underneath the hard, clumsy squeeze of Makoto’s fingers, his eyes rolling back for a moment as he rubs his own cock drags against Makoto’s thigh. “I _do_ have oil,” he gasps. “But that means—moving…”

 

“U-um,” Makoto stammers, hands arching up to grab Izumi’s hair, urging him down immediately, eyes wide. “I’d rather, if you don’t mind, if you just—if you didn’t mind—I remember you doing it before, I need your _mouth_ —“

 

With that, he yanks down his waistband without even untying it, grabbing his cock and guiding it to bump against Izumi’s lips, already messily hard.

 

Something about Makoto’s earnest, desperate need matches his own so completely that Izumi doesn’t think, he just _does_. His lips part automatically, and the taste of Makoto’s cock slides over his tongue, fills his mouth and makes him drool, a rumbling, needy noise muffled in the back of his throat as he swallows him down to the hilt.

 

Makoto is thick enough to make his jaw ache, and that just makes his own dick harder between his legs. Izumi draws back enough to suck at the tip of Makoto’s cock, tongue rubbing over that dripping slit before he dives back down, cheeks ruddy as he sucks and licks.

 

Makoto barely has time to warn Izumi that it won’t be long before his cock starts leaking, dribbling over Izumi’s tongue as he thrusts in, in, _in_ , with little or no regard for letting Izumi breathe, mad with desire. “You’re so—sorry, sorry, I’m going to—“

 

No, he can hold it together better than _that_ , surely, he—

 

He spills, heated and urgent, over Izumi’s tongue with a strangled gasp. “Dammit—no, if you just—don’t stop—I’m sure it’ll—that didn’t count—“

 

Izumi pulls back with a wet, ragged gasp, barely swallowing enough to not let the mess drip down from his chin. His tongue drags over his lower lip, cleaning up what remains, and his fingers drag up the length of Makoto’s now decidedly slicker cock, dazed, and a bit amused. “It’s not even getting soft,” he breathes. “Must mean you really like me.”

 

Makoto groans, hands tangled in Izumi’s hair so tightly his knuckles pop, dragging his head down as his hips twitch, rubbing his still-hard cock against Izumi’s chin, his cheek, anywhere he can reach. “I’m—sorry, it’s been a long time, you’re so pretty, put it back in, please—“

 

“Uh uh, you do some of the work,” Izumi huffs, even as he turns his head to the side to lick a stripe up Makoto’s cock, pressing a wet, sucking kiss to the head. “I want it _in me_ , for real—it’s been awhile for me, too, you know…”

 

Makoto growls, then flips Izumi onto his back, knees braced on either side of his shoulders. “But I want to be inside you _now_ , can’t I take you after I come again?”

 

Izumi melts down to the floor, his expression rapidly shifting from surprised, to turned on, to desperately, helplessly needy. “You,” he pants, grabbing for Makoto’s hips to try and pull him forward, “can do whatever you want to me. Fuck my mouth, I’m so _hungry_ , Yuukun…”

 

 _Someday_ , Makoto swears dimly to himself, _I’m going to ask him why he calls me that._

 

But how can he focus when Izumi loves the way he talks when he loses control, when it’s something they both want? Better is to pin Izumi’s head down, then slowly feed his cock back in, sliding his hand down as Izumi’s lips creep up farther. “You can take it this far, can’t you? You’re so good at this…”

 

Izumi’s response is little more than a muffled groan, wet and sloppy when he tries to swallow Makoto at this angle without gagging. He fails for a moment, inhaling sharply through his nose as he swallows rapidly, but that just makes his own cock harder. Izumi’s chest heaves, and his fingers grab and cling at Makoto’s hips as he swallows every drip that slides down his throat from Makoto’s slowly leaking cock.

 

“You’re the kind of person…who loves this, right?”

 

The words fall out of Makoto’s mouth, eager and hungry, as he thrusts in hard, driving his cock down into Izumi’s mouth, eyes dark as he watches it disappear into him. He pauses for a second when Izumi struggles, but if Izumi wants to be doing it (and he clearly does), who is Makoto to deny him? He licks his lips, shoving Izumi down harder into the floor, reaching back behind to fumble with Izumi’s cock. It seems like hundreds of years ago that they’d fumbled together by the side of the road, feeling like Izumi’s body was closer to home than he’d ever been.

 

It kind of still does, for him, though he doubts it does for Izumi.

 

“You’re the kind of guy that wants it in his mouth all the time, aren’t you?”

 

A wet attempt at affirmation follows, but that, and a weak, sort-of nod at his head, is all Izumi can manage when his mouth is stuffed full of cock. He tries to be more proactive—to lift his head up and suck and lick more, but each thrust of Makoto’s hips makes that impossible, and Makoto seems to have his own idea about what he wants—which is even better.

 

The hand on his own cock makes him inhale sharply, nearly gag again, and Izumi’s eyes roll back as his hips arch up into that touch, dripping over Makoto’s fingers, desperate to grind more against his palm—which is how he comes, a rush of trembling, overeager nerves leaving him nearly choking on Makoto’s cock as he spills, slick and messy. Izumi groans low in his throat, his face painfully hot, tear-streaked and overwhelmed.

 

Makoto takes a long, deep breath, trying to regain control of his body after spilling hard down Izumi’s throat. He pulls out slowly, resting his softening cock on Izumi’s chin, reaching down to pet his hair. “You’re the best at it,” he whispers, then winces. “Oh, man, that really took it out of the seal…I’m sorry, I messed up.”

 

“…Fix it later,” comes Izumi’s hoarse response as he splays out, panting open-mouthed towards the ceiling as his tongue snakes out to lick up a trickle of come that tries to escape. “That might…also’ve been my fault,” he admits, his eyes glittering brilliantly too-blue in the low light of the room. “I was hungry, and you’re…so…so good.”

 

Makoto squeaks, and scuttles backwards, off of Izumi and to the side. “Y-y-y-your eyes! They’re—ahh! Your teeth!”

 

“Mm?” Izumi’s tongue flicks out again, prodding at his fangs with an aggravated little sigh. “Ah. Yeah. That happens.” He slowly sits up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Come poke them, I’m not venomous.”

 

“I think I’m probably okay, actually?” But despite himself, Makoto shuffles slowly forward, reaching out a trembling hand. “Why does that happen?”

 

Izumi leans forward, curling his fingers about Makoto’s wrist to bring his fingers to his mouth—which he then promptly licks with a little grin. “When I’m starving, I sometimes get like this after,” he says. “And in the Academy, I’m _always_ hungry. Thanks for being delicious.”

 

That sends a shiver up the back of Makoto’s neck, and he rubs his arms, eyes fastened to Izumi’s fangs. “Is that because of…your, you know, your father?”

 

“Mmhm. Go on, you can touch them. Careful, though, they’re sharp.” Izumi obediently opens his mouth, baring the little points of his snake’s fangs for Makoto to prod at.

 

Makoto pokes the tooth, then jumps when it predictably pricks the tip of his finger. “Ah! Y-yeah, that’s pretty sharp. Do you chew up your tongue?”

 

“Did I chew up your cock?” Izumi teases, running his tongue over the tips of them as he watches Makoto’s tiny pinprick of a cut heal almost immediately. “Even if I did, it would probably heal right away—but no, they’ll go away in a minute.” He crawls forward on his hands and knees, beaming up at Makoto. “Do you want to fix my seal again? Or should we keep going?”

 

Makoto wavers, and prods at Izumi’s magic, then sighs. “Damn. It’s almost gone. I’m sorry I’m not stronger. I guess I should bathe again.”

 

“Boring. At least rub your cock on me again first.”

 

“…How important is it for you to not be found?”

 

Izumi’s mouth opens, then closes, and he sighs, flopping down onto the floor dramatically. “ _Some_.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Makoto groans, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry I’m not better, you deserve someone who is. I know when you’re done training you’re going to be so powerful, probably even a Nightcloak.”

 

“I’m three years behind because they keep sticking me in remedial classes because I’m starving,” Izumi says, voice muffled into the floor where he continues to sprawl. “Any time I try to feed, it makes my magic do stupid things, and that means I have to be held back until it calms down again. They don’t know how to train Icebreds. At all. So somehow, I doubt I’ll ever even be _cloaked_ , let alone a _Nightcloak_.”

 

“If they made even _me_ a Dawncloak, you’ll definitely get one,” Makoto says gloomily. “I took twelve years to pass. You’ll probably do it in one more year, you’re so strong, they’ll make an exception for you.”

 

“You’re perfectly competent, just…nervous. All the time.” Izumi extends a hand, wiggling his fingers. “I don’t want this, you know. If I could, I’d just give you my magic or something.”

 

“Eh? Milord, please don’t say that,” Makoto says, alarmed. “You’re going to hurt your magic if you say things like that, it can rot your powers.”

 

“Izumi,” comes the reflexive correction. “And I don’t believe in that kind of thing. My magic is still a bitch and I hate it, no matter how much I’ve tried to deal with it. I’d rather hit things with a sword.”

 

Makoto makes a despairing little sound in his throat. “Just think how much good you can do with it once you’re done training,” he urges. “But if it rots, it can poison you from the inside. It’s not just a belief, it’s happened before. You start losing your senses, haven’t you had that class yet?”

 

“Yes, and I still don’t believe it’s true.” Izumi props his chin up in one hand, peering up at him. “I have no problems with the stuff I was born with—the innate Icebred healing, whatever, that’s fine. But this intentional magic? No, thanks. I’m really not meant to be a wizard, it’s lost on me.”

 

Makoto slumps down, sighing deeply. “You don’t even want it, and you’re still better at it than I am. That feels about right.”

 

“Stop that.” Izumi frowns up at him, eyes narrowing. “That’s not fair. I’m really terrible at anything intentional, you know, so you’re an expert compared to me. And from the way I can see it, you just haven’t had a chance to really practice the kinds of things that higher level wizards do—and now’s your chance. You’re traveling with me, I’ll put you to good use.”

 

“And you won’t kill me if I have to seal you a couple of times a day?” Makoto asks guiltily. “Or if we have to not have sex the whole time?”

 

“I might kill you for that part, because if I don’t, _I’ll_ die.”

 

Makoto groans. “One of us is going to die.”

 

“You’re being overdramatic. I bet once we get stupidly far North, it won’t matter if my magic’s a little…eh. Leaky.”

 

“But won’t it be too cold to do things up there? If it’s farther north than even Sena, in _Winter_ …I mean, I never went outside between Midwinter and the spring Solstice.”

 

“If we’re sharing body heat, it will be much easier to survive,” Izumi points out. “You keep coming up with excuses to not fuck me, I want you to know.”

 

“No!”

 

Makoto hurries forward, smoothing his hair down, as if worried to touch Izumi. “I just…you said it’s important. And if I mess it up, and it _is_ hard for me, what if whoever you’re hiding from finds you, and you can’t do the thing you have to do? Then it’s my fault, just because I, I mean, because of how…I feel around you.”

 

“Shh. Shh, I’m just teasing you, Yuukun, come here.”

 

Izumi sits up, reaching out to grab Makoto’s hand, tugging him close again. “Do you want to know who I’m hiding from?” he forwardly offers. “Because it might scare you a bit, but it’s not as big of a deal as you think it is. It’s not a matter of life or death, just…a matter of getting this done or not.”

 

Makoto thunks his head against Izumi’s shoulder, all of the fight gone out of him. “Yeah. Tell me. I don’t…I don’t know what’s going on at all, or why you want to go up to those dumb little villages, in _winter_ , the passes won’t even be open! I can’t melt that much snow, even a Nightcloak would have problems with that, how are we going to get through?”

 

“I’m going up North because an entire village was attacked by Inglings…and experimented on as well. The reports said that some of them were in magically induced comas, just like the kind of coma that Mika seems to be in.”

 

Izumi strokes a hand slowly down Makoto’s back, careful and soothing. “Shu was going to come with me,” he quietly says. “But Rei wouldn’t allow it. So he smuggled me out of the Academy without telling him, more or less. That’s who I’m avoiding on my way up there, but…I have to go. The answer to fixing Mika might be up there.”

 

Makoto takes a deep breath, trying to get his emotions in order, which is always difficult when Izumi is around. “So…it’s the Emperor that’s going to be after us if I don’t seal you,” he says slowly. “But any Enhanced could sense you, if you’re unsealed, and they’d report to him, right? So you have to stay hidden, or they’ll try to bring you back, because you’re not trained yet. But if we make it…”

 

He swallows, and starts finger-sketching a map. “So we’d have to go inconspicuously, right? If you’re trying to avoid notice. So we’ll have to go up the coast, then up the Eastern horse trail…it’ll probably be blocked with snow already, though. If we get up there and it falls, we’ll die, your magic can’t feed us. But if it _is_ open and we can get up, then we have to find some little nomad village, even though they move around, right? So…what if we don’t find anything? Horses can’t get up there, so we’ll have to go on foot—it’ll probably take three or four months to get up there, it’ll be just about Midwinter, right? So even if the passes are open on our way up, they’ll definitely be closed, so we won’t be able to get down for at least three months after that. Um….how much food do you think we can carry on our backs?”

 

“A few facts to fill in,” Izumi says, holding up a hand before Makoto’s mind can start spinning further out of control. “I have a horse that can get us anywhere. She’s also carnivorous, and _will_ hunt for us in places that we can’t reach if necessary. Obviously the main issue that we have to deal with is the weather…and I _think_ I can protect us.” He chews on his lower lip slowly. “As far as getting up there and not finding anything…I have to find _something_. If for some reason we do end up stuck up there and you end up in danger, I have no qualms about kicking my seal to the curb. We’d be found easily enough; I’m willing to bet on that, especially if I’ve been gone for awhile.”

 

“You might be found earlier than you think,” Makoto points out. “I’m going to run out of herbs after a couple of days, and if I can’t bathe, I might mess it up at any point. Is Lord Rei powerful enough to magically snatch you down South?”

 

“Probably. Do you _have_ to bathe?” Izumi asks, curious.

 

“I mean…” Makoto sits up, shrugging a little. “I have focus problems. It helps cleanse my energies, so I don’t get magically distracted. It’s like…tying back your hair before you cook, For some people, they don’t shed much, right? But if your hair sheds a lot, it’s…pretty easy to mess up a dish. If I get a, um, hair in my spell, it ruins the whole thing immediately. It’s risky. It might just not work, or it might…hurt you. Or me.”

 

“Hmm. Interesting. You should just try fucking me beforehand, sex always clears my mind.”

 

Makoto stares at him for a minute, then throws up his hands. “Just go home. There’s no way we’re going to make it.”

 

“This is why you have focus problems,” Izumi mildly says, entirely unfazed. “You just want to quit right away. That’s not going to work when you’re around me.”

 

“It’s not going to work at _all_ , M—Izumi. You don’t listen to me.” Makoto shrugs, looking away. “You’re used to thinking of me as your stupid little friend, I think, and maybe I am, but I _do_ know more about being a wizard than you do. What you’re asking from me is impossible. And I’m probably going to die, because you _don’t_ have a real plan. I’m glad you have a scary horse, but it’s twenty feet deep snow up there. How are we getting there, or home? No horse can do that. Not even a demon.”

 

Izumi opens his mouth to immediately snap out a retort, then rocks back, sitting back firmly. “You’re right,” he says after a moment, clapping his hands down onto his thighs. “You know a lot more about being a wizard than me. I’m…used to thinking about things when it’s just me, these days, and as a knight that more or less can’t die, not…like this. Thinking about the magical requirements of things, having to be sealed, all of that kind of nonsense…” He trails off, frustrated. “There has to be a way, though. Maybe…if you just come all the way to Sena with me, I can go by myself from there. That might be good enough, and that’s much safer for you.”

 

“Is it the end of your mission if Rei finds out where you are?” Makoto asks seriously. “Because once you’re apart from me, I won’t be able to seal you. Sorry, I know I’m too…soft. Squishy. For this kind of thing.”

 

“Maybe once I’m really far North, I can try and get Ritsu to come with me,” Izumi murmurs, then shrugs, grabbing for Makoto’s hands again. “I don’t think of you as my stupid little friend,” he firmly says. “And I don’t think you’re too soft or squishy. I just don’t want you to die. I wouldn’t drag the king up North, either; it was ridiculous of me to think it would be feasible for a human. I’m sorry.”

 

“I just…” Makoto squeezes Izumi’s hands, looking frustrated. “I want to be able to help you, like you’ve always helped me, and…and I still feel guilty. For forgetting. So if there’s something I can do, I want to do it, I just want to be _able_ to do it. I don’t want to die for nothing.”

 

“The assumption I’d let you die is insane,” Izumi snorts, leaning in to stare directly into Makoto’s eyes. “I won’t put you in danger. If it’s something you can’t do, then I won’t ask it of you. That being said, I _am_ going to make you prove you know more about being a wizard than me until then, now that you’ve made a point of saying it.”

 

Makoto smiles shyly, looking away after the gaze becomes intense, reminding him of too-intimate moments where his soul had melded with the king’s lover. “No offense, but, ah, I don’t think it’ll be _too_ hard. I’ve been doing this for over a decade, and I actually tried to pay attention in class.”

 

“Then stop telling me that you’re terrible at magic and that you can’t do things. It creates a bad impression, you know.”

 

“But I know things! I know enough to know I’m really, really weak! Knowing things isn’t going to make me stronger!”

 

“It might. Only Nightcloaks have been able to seal me at all up until now, so what does that say?”

 

Makoto blinks. “Really? Who else has tried? I mean, I’ll get better at it, I’ve never done it before, so with practice I probably won’t need the bath!”

 

“Are you kidding? I’m the one to practice on in the Academy. With everything,” Izumi deadpans. “Because, as you know, and as everyone knows at this point, I don’t fucking _die_. Anyway, that’s the spirit, practice makes perfect. If we’re going to keep going to bed together, I suppose you’ll have to keep getting better at it.”

 

“Or maybe you should practice more at controlling yourself during sex,” Makoto says, hiding a shy little smile. “Your emotions are what keep breaking the seal. Also, um…is the king…you’re still with him?”

 

“What’s the point of sex if you can’t let go and enjoy yourself?” Izumi grumpily says, reaching up to poke Makoto’s cheek. “It’s easy for you to tell me something like that. I’ve made a career out of being a hardass—so I could still be with the king, no matter what.”

 

“Eh? How does that work?”

 

“It’s really adorable how clueless you are about politics. When you look like me,” Izumi says patiently, patting Makoto’s cheek, “the entire royal court thinks you’re a joke. I had two options when His Majesty took the throne—play up being a whore, or shape up and act like every politician’s—and veteran knight’s—worst nightmare. It was working, until this whole wizard thing happened.”

 

Makoto stares at him, head tilting to the side. “Ah…no offense, but I’m a little lost? What do you mean, looking like you? You’re so handsome, and strong. You’re the pride of the whole North.”

 

“Uh huh. And if I looked like a ‘real’ Northern man, I’d get a hell of a lot further in the Capital. Even _you’re_ taller than me.”

 

“What, with a full beard and a barrel chest?” Makoto laughs, hiding his mouth. “Your mother would be happy, wouldn’t she? But there’s a reason all the women wanted to bed you, and not them.”

 

“Being popular with women doesn’t land you a position in court, and it certainly doesn’t endear you to the men on the Kingsguard,” Izumi says with a huff, giving Makoto’s shoulder a light slap. “Don’t laugh! I know I’m beautiful! That doesn’t mean I’m not aware of how much easier it would be if I _was_ a gross, hairy man. And it gets _especially_ tricky when you’re publicly in a relationship with the king,” Izumi swiftly adds. “Where I _need_ to be the more feminine one, or _he_ looks bad. Even if I’m the one sticking it in.”

 

“Eh? Really? You?” Makoto lets out a snort, then tries to hide it. “I mean…ah. Yes. Of course. Of course you’re the one who puts it in.”

 

“Wow. Wow, to hell with you. You don’t believe me, do you?”

 

“I mean…no, no, of course, of course you can do it, I’m sure you’re, you’re fine at it!”

 

“Just because I _like_ being on my back doesn’t mean I’m not capable of doing it the other way. You’re still laughing.”

 

Makoto tries to stop laughing. Really. He does. “I just, ah…well. It’s not like I’m daring you to do it the other way, it’s—no, listen, it’s a compliment. You’re just so good at it,” he says hastily. “It’s hard to imagine you could be just as good the other way.”

 

“I take it back,” Izumi huffs. “I’m going up North by myself. Bye.”

 

“No, no, wait!” Makoto stifles his snickers, grabbing for Izumi’s hands. “I’m really intrigued, you know? But I also just…I don’t want you to, um, show me. Is that mean?”

 

“I didn’t say I wanted to put it in _you_ ,” Izumi grouses, swatting at Makoto’s hands. “I said I put it in the king. This is special knowledge. You should _appreciate_ that I’m allowing you to know. Also, think I’m sexy.”

 

“Izumi…” Makoto stares at him as if he’d said something utterly incomprehensible. “I’ve had a crush on you since I was, like, eleven? Or even before that? Of course I think you’re, you know.”

 

Izumi huffs again, but he looks mollified, more or less. “It wasn’t just you, you know,” he quietly says, poking Makoto’s cheek. “You were the only real friend I had in the North. It was a lot easier to leave once you bloomed and weren’t there to keep me company anymore.”

 

Makoto shifts closer, and hesitantly wraps an arm around Izumi’s shoulder, tugging him gently close, though not so hard Izumi couldn’t just refuse to lean in. “What do you think would have happened…if I hadn’t bloomed?”

 

“I would’ve stayed up North and been a proper scion, not some brat that insisted on going to the Capital and ‘doing something more’ with his life,” Izumi dryly says, scooting his way closer immediately and resting his head against Makoto’s shoulder. “Oh, and I definitely would’ve eaten you alive the first chance I got. You were the _only_ good-looking boy in the whole place.”

 

“Even though it was prohibited?” Makoto asks, amused by the idea no matter how unlikely it sounds, knowing how their lives had gone. “I never heard of you tumbling any low-class brats like I was.”

 

“I’m in charge, I can tumble whoever I want,” Izumi sniffs. “Besides, in the Capital, no one common-born is beautiful. You were the _only_ good one up North. Exceptions would be made.”

 

“You’re _really_ mean about the way your people look,” Makoto observes, stroking Izumi’s shoulder, just enjoying the warmth of him. “You don’t like the men, you don’t like the poor…”

 

“I’m like that with all people. I’m picky. I’m allowed to be, look at me.”

 

“Are you ever going back?” Makoto turns his head, blinking down at Izumi. “If your mother dies, I mean. Someone’s got to rule, and they’ll never accept someone from down South.”

 

“ _If_ my mother dies,” Izumi says with a snort of laughter. “Look at her, she’ll never die at this rate.”

 

He shakes out his head of hair, pushing himself off of Makoto’s shoulder. “In all seriousness—if I needed to step in, take over…of course I would. I’ve trained my whole life for that. But it’s still important for me to be in the Capital, or the North’s voice will be lost like it has been for so many years. I’d appoint a regent that I’d stay in contact with constantly, that sort of thing.”

 

“Who would you trust, though?” Makoto asks softly. “You don’t really know anyone at home, anymore. Neither do I, really. Ah, never mind, I’m just feeling homesick. Maybe we should go by Sena on the way after all.”

 

“The North has always been loyal to me,” Izumi quietly points out. “I don’t think it would be difficult to find someone that would answer to me on a regular basis. My mother’s council is a little outdated, but that’s not to say new additions couldn’t be made, when I take over. But you’re right, talking like this is kind of moot right now. I _do_ want to stop through Sena—if I don’t, I’ll never hear the end of it, anyway.”

 

“As long as your mother doesn’t try to feed me until I die,” Makoto says with a grin. “Not that her cooks aren’t the best in the North, I just know _my_ mother will beat me if I show up weighing that much again.”

 

“The best in the North doesn’t mean much. Let me drag you to the Capital at some point; that’s what _good_ food is like, though my mother won’t hear it.”

 

“Ah…I did go to the Capital once, when I was on my first, they called it a field trip? From the Academy? It was a long time ago, under the last Emperor,” Makoto reminisces. “All of us students went to dig up the old Palace gardens at the request of the old King. Didn’t eat anything, though.”

 

“…That sounds terrible. I’m glad I didn’t bloom as a child, I probably would’ve killed myself.”

 

“Don’t be dumb, if I could do it, you’d have been fantastic.” Makoto gives Izumi’s cheek a poke. “You’re so much smarter than me, you have to know that.”

 

“That’s not the point. I never wanted to be a wizard, I always wanted to be a knight,” Izumi complains, turning his head to snap gently at Makoto’s finger. “I still think it would be better if I was permanently sealed. What’s the point if no one can teach me properly?”

 

Makoto shrugs. “It takes me a hundred times longer to do anything a Nightcloak can do. But I still bother learning, because there aren’t enough of them, and what if I someday get into a position where I could help someone, and I didn’t learn what I needed?”

 

“It’s different when you’re completely human. I don’t expect you to understand it.”

 

Makoto stiffens, and draws his arm away. “Oh. All right, you’re probably right.”

 

“Don’t be like that,” Izumi exasperatedly says, grabbing for Makoto’s hand. “I just mean—it’s different, when you’re a half-blood. Especially when you’re a half-blood that no one has dealt with as a wizard for centuries. I’m going in blind all the time. No one knows how to teach me, not even the Emperor himself. My magic doesn’t _work_ like any book says it should.”

 

“So you’re giving up.” Makoto pulls his hand away, and scratches at the back of his neck. “I can’t really give you any advice about that. I can’t imagine having so many powers that I’d give _any_ of them up, but for you that must make sense, I guess. It must be hard to be a half-blood.”

 

“If it comes between being able to live the life I want to live with the people I care about, or being stuck in the Academy for centuries to try and train a craft I don’t want—yes, I’ll give up. Just like you’ve worked hard to be a decent wizard, _I’ve_ worked hard to be a knight, to be the Captain of the Kingsguard.”

 

“And you do a really good job,” Makoto assures him. “I mean, the king hasn’t died, right? So you’re…I’m sure you’re really good at it. I think you’re flattering me by calling me decent, I’m really much better at research than evocating anything on the spot.”

 

Izumi’s mouth twists. “He’d continue to not die if I was there,” he grouses, then pulls himself away, scrubbing a hand back through his hair. “Ugh. I _guess_ I should let you seal me again. I can _feel_ it leaking now, it’s getting cold in here.”

 

Makoto flushes. “Right, right, sorry. Stay naked, I’ll bathe quickly.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

“Stop following me. I mean it.”

 

Arashi glares at the weird, horrifying creature that he knows is his own damn fault. Every day, it looks at him with the same sad, creepy eyes, as if it knows it’s his fault, as if it blames him for the lovely, motionless wizard lying in the Academy’s tower right now.

 

It wouldn’t be wrong to blame Arashi, he thinks moodily, turning resolutely away as it follows at his heels, like it has every time he’s come near the Academy. He blames himself for not being able to protect Mika, after all.

 

But looking at that abomination isn’t why he’s here. He’s here to climb a few thousand damn stairs, then knock on the Emperor’s door, turning around to snap in the snog’s face while he waits. “Stop it. It’s not funny. Hanging around me won’t wake him up, go away!”

 

The snog stares sadly back at Arashi, tail swaying side to side like a very pathetic, strange dog. His tongue flicks out slowly, then he creeps forward to butt his head against Arashi’s ankle, as if he’s a cat, not something scaled and disturbing.

 

The door slowly creaks open, and Rei, the Demon King, Emperor of the Academy, muffles a yawn behind his hand as if he’s just risen from a very deep sleep. “Captain,” he greets languidly, his eyes lidded as they slide down to the snog rubbing on Arashi’s legs. “Ah. And a friend.”

 

“He won’t leave me alone.” The animal’s attention only _hurts_ , and Arashi gives it a nudge away with his boot, though Cupcake hasn’t tried to bite or attack him since Mika’s…

 

He turns away, firming his jaw. “Can we speak? Inside? I need advice.”

 

Rei’s eyebrows raise, and he takes a step back, leaning on the doorframe. “Certainly. Don’t bring your friend, though,” he mildly adds. “I really don’t like the smell of those things.”

 

“You hear him? Stay outside. I know you understand,” Arashi mutters, turning away and shutting the door in the snog’s face. “Creepy fucking thing. I wish it would leave me the hell alone, every time I see it…”

 

He shakes his head, trying to dismiss the thought. The weight of the Kingsguard Captain feels heavy on his lapel, the sword belted at his hip a constant reminder of something else he couldn’t help, couldn’t stop. “I’m sure you’ve been told, but Lord Shu has been settled at the Palace. He seems in terrible spirits, but quite healthy.”

 

“I’ve been told, though not explicitly by him,” Rei wryly says, collapsing back into a nearby chaise that looks like he’s more or less lived and slept upon it in the past week, judging by the number of overstuffed pillows and blankets piled upon it. “He’s rather cross with me right now, and not speaking to me.”

 

“If you made me interact with that _person_ , I’d do the same,” Arashi says bluntly. He’d been given a stern primer— _don’t say his name, some creatures can be summoned that way_ —and it makes him paranoid as hell. “He’s the worst.”

 

“I’d handle it myself, but I can’t be sure of what he is…and if he’s what I suspect, then he’ll know what I am immediately as well,” Rei wearily says, fluttering a hand. “Is he the worst in the most annoying of ways, or just…the worst? In general? Do I _need_ to intervene already?”

 

“The most annoying,” Arashi admits. “I know I should be afraid of what he could be, but I just kind of want to punch him in the gut. He propositioned me! Twice! And then he tried to sleep with the king!”

 

“…And you both turned him down, I’m desperately hoping.”

 

“I’d rather die than sleep with him,” Arashi says bluntly. “I haven’t…” He swallows, looking back at the door, where he knows it’s only a short walk to where Mika lies. “If I’m going to break that streak, it’s not going to be with something like that. No matter what he is, I can’t handle that personality.”

 

“Good.”

 

Rei drapes an arm over the back of the sofa, watching Arashi carefully. “But obviously, you wouldn’t be here just to complain about how annoying he is as a person,” he says. “Is he doing something you need my assistance with?”

 

Arashi shakes his head briskly, banishing the bad thoughts. He’s Captain, now. There’s no time to play around or have fun. “If it were just that, I wouldn’t have left the king alone to report in. The problem is, Izumi’s missing. And no one is telling me where he is.”

 

Rei’s smile tightens at the edges. “I have an idea,” he says, “but only a idea, because my lovely consort aided his escape and cloaked him for a time. Would you like to know?”

 

“Sure. Tell me, so I can go there and kill him.”

 

“North. Far further north than you’ve ever been, chasing down nomadic tribes close to the Western border.”

 

Arashi’s face tightens until his teeth are bared. “I’m going to kill him. I really am. I’m covering for him for _ten years_ , putting my life on hold for him for ten _fucking_ years, and he’s off doing whatever he wants? Is the Academy even going to take him back after this joyride? He’s not even _trying_ to get back to his responsibilities!” It _might_ be an argument they’ve had multiple times over the last few years, though not enough to strain their relationship…much.

 

Rei’s fingertips drum slowly against his own cheek. “I believe he heard about an attack that happened up there weeks ago, in which the entire village was reduced to magical comas.”

 

“Wh—“

 

Arashi’s hand clenches so hard his nails dig into his palm, and his face pales. “Why wouldn’t he tell me? Is this some kind of weird possessive thing?”

 

“My guess is he didn’t want you to die,” Rei bluntly says. “He’s heading straight into drake country. Humans can’t survive in that kind of cold.”

 

“But—I’ve survived things before,” Arashi protests. “I’ve been to Sena, that was really cold even in summer!”

 

“This is cold enough,” Rei gently says, “that even demons have trouble with it. _I_ wouldn’t want to go. And in winter, it would be impossible. That being said—I will _not_ say no to the idea of you attempting to track him down. My spies tell me he might be heading towards Sena.”

 

“Excellent,” Arashi says briskly, though the idea of _that_ much cold makes him want to shudder. “I’ll need one of those horrifying demon horses, and a protective detail from you for the king.”

 

“Certainly. That comes with the stipulation that you bring him back. _Immediately._ ”

 

“What? Back?” Arashi stares, as if Rei had started speaking in a different language. “I thought you were sending me to help him find answers.”

 

“Whatever answer he’s trying to find up there doesn’t exist,” Rei says, sitting up straighter even as he heaves a sigh. “Captain, he’s going to go all that way, and find an abandoned village at best,” he says. “The magic that was wrought—that’s gone. Wataru and Natsume are back on the Western border. Their work will be _much_ more likely to bring about success. Right now, all Izumi is doing is risking his own life as an untrained wizard.”

 

“Then what am I supposed to do about Mika?” Arashi asks, despair creeping into his voice. “I’ll never be able to convince him to come home if he thinks there’s hope. And I doubt I can hit him hard enough to keep him out long enough to get home. Damn healing factor. Hey, maybe with one of those magic nets?”

 

“Once Izumi is fully trained, it’s highly likely he will be the one able to actually bring Mika out of this.” Rei slowly picks himself up, drifting over to his writing desk. “So losing him to something so…ridiculous seems moot. I can give you a horse—and a net—but if you end up going North with him instead of bringing him back here, _I_ will be the one on your trail.” His eyebrows arch as he spins a single key about his finger, just shy of holding it out in offering. “Especially because that means you’re leaving my consort behind. Kuro might be lurking about, but I still have my preferences.”

 

Arashi grinds his teeth in frustration. “I can’t promise I won’t let him convince me,” he admits. “But if you could go after me, why not go after him yourself? I’m watching Shu, I’m watching the king, I’ve got the Capital. But if he’s already up there, why not just let him try? He’ll never stop if he thinks there’s something to be found.”

 

“Because if I go up North right now, it will stir things up even worse.”

 

Rei exhales a soft breath, and glances to the door. An unseen lock turns and clicks audibly, and sudden, thunderous silence falls over the room, cutting off even the sounds of wind outside of the seemingly open window. “It isn’t just Inglings up there. Forces from the Shadowlands are coming up from the cracks, and if I chase him down, his reaction might force me to use magic—which I do _not_ want to do when there are creatures up there that might latch onto that, and follow us back.”

 

Arashi stands at attention, his face tense, shoulders tenser. “You think there’s something bad coming. Those prophecies.”

 

“Yes. And I’ve been informed, in so many words, that if I go, I’ll only be fanning the fire.”

 

“So who’s being sent?” Arashi asks. “You obviously trust me, if you’re letting me know this much.”

 

“When I say Wataru and Natsume have returned to the ‘West’…I mean that they’re stationed up there to deal with whatever rears its ugly head. Aside from Shu, they’re the most suited for this sort of combat, and Wataru acts as an excellent lure.” Rei shrugs a shoulder. “I have no interest in losing fledgling wizards to this, or countless humans. That’s why I’m trusting they will handle it, and why I do _not_ want Izumi there.”

 

“You’re only using Nightcloaks?” Arashi asks, skeptical. “Nooncloaks and even Dawncloaks might not be as powerful as the rest of you, but they’re good at casting wide nets, keeping watch and directing Nightcloaks where they need to go. I’ve worked with wizards for a while, they have so much use.”

 

“Against Inglings,” Rei agrees. “But true Shadowland creatures are a different story. Please, tell me again how well even Nightcloaks fared against the previous Emperor.”

 

“Exactly,” Arashi says, pointing a finger at Rei’s chest. “You were all exactly as useful as regular Nooncloaks. So why not use them as spies, as alerts, as the first line of defense? My cavalry is worth twenty infantrymen each, that doesn’t mean I don’t need infantry.”

 

“Because,” Rei patiently says, “archdemons aren’t creeping out of the depths— _yet_. They’re sending their pets. These are creatures that haven’t breathed human air in several millenia. They’re far stronger than Inglings, and I need them to immediately be destroyed, with the ones that aren’t left to slink back to their masters with nothing but fear. Nooncloaks can’t do that. There are two Nooncloaks that can; my brother, doing exactly what you’re talking about in the Shadowlands proper, and _your_ lover, unconscious. You were spoiled, being gifted a Nightcloak and Nooncloak during your time in the West.”

 

“I wasn’t given them,” Arashi nearly growls. “I was their commander. And I made use of every single soldier under my command, including them. Just—there’s so much going on, I should be in the thick of it. Tell me there’s something I can do besides defend the king from threats that Shu is far, far better equipped to handle.”

 

“Bring me back my healer,” Rei simply replies instead of taking the bait of another argument. “Who might end up being the only thing that saves your lover, and saves our king, if something goes wrong in the Capital. Unless you’d like to lurk about in the Academy until your own heritage leaks out enough to be useful?”

 

“Don’t even joke about that.” Arashi rubs the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at Rei. “It’s been keeping me up at nights, that I’ll bloom and get dragged off for five years like he’s been, I still won’t have him back for another five, not to mention I do _not_ have the mind for all of that study.”

 

“I’m very much fucking with you,” Rei lightly says. “You’re an exceptional human, but that’s all, and far too old to bloom with that in mind. You don’t have an ounce of real magic in you. But you might survive in the cold—which is a task on the battlefield I might give you if you bring Izumi back first.”

 

“Battlefield?” Arashi brightens. “What battlefield? Something with a clear enemy, no lying, just physical action and fast command?” If he were a dog, his tail would be starting to wag.

 

“Yes, good boy, a battlefield. I’ll even give you a sword that kills demons if you’re very brisk. But you don’t get any details until you bring Izumi back, safe and sound.”

 

Arashi opens his mouth, then closes it again, head tilting to the side. “Did you just call me ‘good boy’?” he asks, perplexed.

 

“You suddenly reminded me of a dog. Like…a little fluffy golden one.”

 

“Your obsession with dogs is really too much,” Arashi says with a sigh. “And if you have a demon-killing sword, give that to me now, you never know when it’ll come in handy.”

 

“Dogs are superior creatures,” Rei mildly says, unfazed by the criticism as he flips the key he holds in Arashi’s direction. “That’s to the armory downstairs. You said you wanted a net, too, so why don’t you just take one. Every sword in there kills demons to some extent, so if you must, take one now—but if you take that thing beyond Sena, I’ll know, and I will not be happy.”

 

“He trusted me with the king.” It’s all Arashi can say, when that armory calls to him, the open road calls to him, the idea of _doing something_ calls to him so loudly it screams in his ear. “And the king is in danger, isn’t he?” _Tell me I’m wrong, that there’s no danger, that the king will be fine, that Shu is strong enough, I’m begging._

 

“If something happens, Shu can handle it—and if he can’t, he knows that it’s at a point to call me.” Rei cocks his head. “What can you do against an archdemon? That’s not meant to mock you; it’s an honest question. This is a task you’re far better suited to.”

 

_A task you’re better suited for._

 

When was the last time Arashi had had a task he was suited for?

 

He nods slowly. “I’m guessing there’s something you need Izumi to do, right? Otherwise, why not just let him go, realize there’s nothing and come back? Unless…” He trails off, not wanting to finish the sentence. _Unless there’s something up there you don’t want him finding out._

 

“Unless?” Rei archly retorts, spinning the key about his finger again before he sighs, tossing it up and catching it within his palm. “All right. If you don’t want to go, you don’t want to go. I understand that your loyalty to the king runs quite deep.”

 

“I’m not a toy, Lord Emperor,” Arashi says quietly. “I have a duty to my king, and a duty to my betrothed, and a duty to all those that I love. I know you like to play with people you don’t think are as smart as you. Try being honest. I’ll probably do what you want me to. But don’t dangle it in front of me like a carrot in front of a horse like you’re trying to trick me.”

 

“I’ve been more honest with you than I have been with my own consort. But if you aren’t interested in taking that at face value and doing something useful for a change, then I can’t help _you_.”

 

Arashi _wants_ to go.

 

Maybe that’s why he hesitates.

 

The trap is so easy. It’s everything he wants—promises of helping Mika, a way to get Izumi back, adventure, the open road, an enemy he can see—but the withheld information is so _much_.

 

“I…think I need to trust my instincts,” he says finally, letting his hand fall to his sword’s hilt, more out of habit than anything. “Thank you for your offer, Lord Emperor. But Izumi trusts me with the king. I’ll trust him with this.”

 

Rei shrugs, and tosses the key back into its drawer in his desk. “That’s your choice, of course,” he says. “You’re welcome to change your mind, though I suppose you won’t. Was there anything else you needed from me? You came all this way.”

 

“I am more than willing to change my mind,” Arashi snaps, “when you give me a good reason to, not maybes or threats. Izumi knows the North best, who’s to say he won’t find something? And why do you want him back fast? It’s not like he’s any _use_ here, locked up in the Academy.”

 

“If he goes up North the way he is now, there’s not a single other person available that could accompany him and survive—and what he needs is a wizard to keep sealing him, or he’ll attract every nasty little thing around, and you will _never_ see him again.”

 

Rei folds his arms across his chest. “He doesn’t know _this_ North. He doesn’t even know where exactly he’s going. I want him back here for his own safety as well as the possibility that we might need him here. But go on, continue to assume what you like. If you turn me down, I’ll send my brother, and have to end up leaving the Shadowlands unmonitored for a time.”

 

“Why was that so hard?” Arashi demands, crossing his arms over his chest. “I only wanted that kind of information. I have a condition. Someone you have to get to watch the king while I’m gone.”

 

“I’ve been saying the exact same thing for half an hour, it’s not my fault you choose not to read between the lines,” Rei bluntly says, his fingers drumming slowly against his arms. “Extrapolate on your condition.”

 

“Yes, well, I’m not as smart as you, whatever. But if you can convince this guy, I’ll go willingly. I’ll go today and not stop until I get there.” He uncrosses his arms, face serious. “The former Warden. Find him and ask him. You know who I mean.”

 

“You want him,” Rei slowly attempts, “to be around the king.”

 

Arashi shrugs. “He’d never work for anyone else and betray the king, would he? Can you think of anyone else you’d trust like that, to absolutely keep him safe?”

 

“Yes. Shu. And he’s already there.” Rei heaves a sigh, tilting his head back. “But I see your point. Fine, I’ll see that he’s appointed there.”

 

“Swear it and give me the key.”

 

“Would you like me to take a blood oath?” Rei asks with a smile, and plucks the key back out of its drawer, offering it out on his open palm.

 

Arashi considers for a moment, then snatches the key. “If you break it, you’ll have me _and_ Izumi after you,” he points out. “Because I’m not coming back alone. Where’s the horse?”

 

“Scary. Ah, you can find her in the Academy stables. You _really_ won’t be able to miss her.”

 

“Is her name Scary?”

 

“It can be, though I’ve been calling her Ritsu.”

 

“Oh god. She sounds terrifying.” Arashi grins. “See you in a few days, I guess.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

The Warden of the West is something of a mythological figure, for a man that absolutely exists. For a man that exists, he rarely makes it onto the plane of reality, which is certainly the excuse he gives whenever someone asks where he’s been, and why he hadn’t bothered intervening in any awful tragedies of the past several years.

 

But when his Name is invoked, by someone he’s considered a very small friend, he makes an exception.

 

When he shows up to the Academy (what an abomination), however, that little guy who’ssummoned him is nowhere to be found, leaving only a trail of demon saliva and hard steel on the spiritual plane. Well, that just figures. That little blond kid has certainly come far in the last several years.

 

Once summoned, though, there’s a long period of time before he can saunter properly off again, so he huffs, looking from the Academy’s Tower to the road to the Capitol. The king should still be fun, he thinks, though paying a visit to that Emperor should prove to be a good time-waster as anything. Besides, there should be a lot of cute little new wizards around to bother.

 

The wards around the Academy tickle a bit as the Warden walks through them, brushing them aside like cobwebs, leaving them a sticky, tangled mess behind himself. Oops. “Excuse me!” he calls, and sees some yellow-cloaked figure squeak, then run away. “Oi, don’t run away, I just ruined all your wards! Come fix…never mind, I guess!”

 

Maybe the wizards are too little. He heads up to the Emperor’s tower, and taps out a rhythm on the door. It isn’t a password or anything, just a song he’d heard, a long time ago. “Hey, Emperor. I’m bored, come entertain me.” That should strike annoyance into Eichi’s heart, at least, though fear would be just as good.

 

There’s a long pause before the door creaks open, and the face that greets the Warden of the West isn’t Eichi’s, but Rei’s, considerably sleepier, and decidedly annoyed about being roused. “I was hoping,” he slowly says, “that when Arashi said he wanted you…he’d summon you to the Capital.”

 

Madara’s face splits in a grin, eyes brightening with delight, and he lurches forward, grabbing Rei in a huge hug and lifting him off the ground with rib-cracking ferocity. “Rei! You’re the Emperor now? That’s the best! Ahahaha, how did you send that nasty bastard packing?”

 

Rei forces a smile, patting Madara’s back in a way that becomes increasingly ‘mercy, _mercy_ , put me down already’ instead of ‘how lovely to see you.’ “You’re as cheerful and loud as always,” he greets. “It’s a very long story, and unimportant, in the grand scheme of things. I’m glad you’re in good spirits, though.”

 

“Always!” Madara gives Rei another squeeze, then sets Rei down, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Well! I was summoned, yeah? So I guess _something’s_ falling apart, even if it isn’t that ass’s fault.”

 

“‘Falling apart’ is a bit harsh,” Rei mildly says, barely bothering to straighten his already rumpled clothes as he steps back into his chambers, waving for Madara to follow. “We’re trying to prevent that.”

 

“Boring,” Madara announces cheerfully, stooping a bit to enter the room. “Usually if things are bad enough to invoke my Name, everyone’s already dying. Well, maybe it’ll be a nice change of pace. Love what you’ve done with the place. Smells good, too, is that you?”

 

“It comes with the territory. Finally, I have my dream career as a gardener,” Rei says wryly, collapsing back onto his usual sofa and crossing his ankles. “I think you’ll still find this interesting. You see, the king himself needs a bodyguard.”

 

Madara’s smile fades, and he flops down onto the sofa just next to Rei, hooking his foot in a chair’s leg and dragging it close, propping up his legs. “The king has bodyguards, doesn’t he? Big fellows, that get paid quite a bit? Or have things changed so much since I’ve been away?”

 

“He has bodyguards, but his most trustworthy and capable ones have been taken away for various other missions,” Rei supplies. “And at the moment…there’s a creature lurking near him that I think warrants quite a bit of concern. A possible archdemon.”

 

“Archdemon, huh? That might be kind of interesting,” Madara says around a yawn. “Did he send the prince away for safety? Or does he not know?”

 

“I forget how long you’ve been away,” Rei says with a sigh, leaning to the side and plopping his head down in one hand. “Your prince is now the king.”

 

“Eh? Really?” Madara brightens immediately, suddenly full of boyish energy, grabbing at Rei’s hand. “Is he doin’ a good job? Is he being looked after? Sure, sure, I’ll watch the little booger, how old is he now?”

 

“Twenty-something…?” Rei’s eyebrows raise, and he tugs his hand away. “As a bodyguard, it would be good if you could remember to be professional.”

 

“Professional?” Madara grins. “Does that mean I’m getting paid?”

 

“You’re hilarious sometimes, you know that?”

 

“Ah, so an amateur position. For the love of the game, so to speak?” Madara wiggles his feet. “If you really want him safe, let me take him with me for a little while. I’ll return him safe and sound, and not a thing in any world can hurt him when he’s with me.”

 

“The country still needs to be run. I appreciate the suggestion, but…then it would be very obvious that there’s a threat.” Rei shakes his head. “No, unfortunately, he needs to remain in the Capital. I believe the problem is an old acquaintance of Eichi’s, actually.” 

 

“Aww, you’re no fun. We’d have real fun, you know. He likes me.”

 

“The point of this isn’t to have fun. This point of this is to actually protect him.” _This is a mistake,_ a voice in Rei’s mind warns him, and he bites down on the urge to call the whole damned thing off immediately. “My consort is there, too, attempting to keep an eye on the situation. Nothing needs to happen to him, either.”

 

“Ooh, wizards are allowed to be people now? I _have_ missed a lot.” Madara’s voice is wistful, and not chastised in the slightest. “One issue, not sure if it’s a problem. If whatever it is really is just like Eichi, it’ll know me. Bright side, I’ll know it. I can tell you for sure.”

 

“The insinuation I’d keep his rules in place after getting rid of him,” Rei sniffs, offering him a decidedly put out look. “I’m aware it’ll know you—but you might be enough to make it think twice about actually moving forward. Things tend to be a bit too…reactive, around me.”

 

“That’s because you feel—well—it’s because of how you feel, spiritually.” Madara bites his tongue, tossing out his hair, hearing it clink slightly against itself with all the tiny bones and scales braided into it. “Tempting.”

 

“Phrasing it like that sounds like you’re coming onto me, and you should tread carefully with that.”

 

Madara laughs. “Why, afraid you’ll accept? You weren’t all that discriminating, last time we met.”

 

“Are you calling me a slut?” Rei mildly asks. “How rude. No, mostly I’ll be annoyed with you for bringing it up and not following through. My consort’s away, and I’m starving. But to keep this on topic—this specific issue is also why I can’t be in the Capital. I’ve been accused of being too over-protective, of both Shu and the king, and that tends to cloud my judgement in dealing with these kinds of creatures.”

 

“Gotcha, gotcha,” Madara says, nodding slowly. “So. Go to the Capitol, protect the king, frighten away the archdemon. If it makes trouble, should I eat it?”

 

“If you can stomach it? The idea makes my skin crawl. But only if it’s _obvious_ trouble; I don’t want to make it call for its friends and cause even more problems.”

 

“So you’re trusting to my discretion and judgement.” Madara’s eyes twinkle. “Right, good to know. Anything else? Do I have a cover story, or should I just show up?”

 

“Mmm…blame it all on Arashi, he does seem to enjoy you and so this can be his fault.”

 

“He’s a good kid. I won’t be seeing him, I guess? Since he’s not here?” Madara stands, stretching out his arms, feeling a bit stiff already from the lack of motion, itching to get into wide open spaces to properly stretch like he never could in this tiny space. “Well, I’m off, then.”

 

“He’s off to the North, for one reason or another.” Rei’s eyes follow him too-closely, sharp and analytical. “Behave yourself, or I will be forced to show up.”

 

“I think I can keep a single instruction in my big dumb head,” Madara says with a grin. “Don’t let the king die. As long as that’s it, I’ve got it.”

 

“You forgot be professional while you’re doing it, but honestly, I don’t know who I can hold to that standard these days.”

 

“You said professional, but you also said you didn’t want to pay me,” Madara says, winking. “Which one is it?”

 

“You should _want_ to be professional, to pretty up that reputation of yours these days. You’re being rewarded with a fresh start with a new king,” Rei says, stifling another yawn behind his hand. “Ah, sorry. You woke me. No one around here understands a proper sleep schedule.”

 

Madara looks at Rei, as if trying to understand what Rei could _possibly_ be talking about. “Right…a reputation is something to care about,” he says, as if he, too, is in on the joke. Simply picking his little prince up, tossing him on his back, and flying off sounds like a vastly better option by the minute.

 

“You’re stressing me out the more you open your mouth,” Rei brightly settles upon. “Go on, get out of here.”

 

Madara stuffs his hands in his pockets with another grin, then starts whistling to himself on his way out of the Academy. This might be a pretty interesting Summoning indeed.

 

~

 

The human world, even at night, is much brighter, and much _crisper_ than anything else in the Shadowlands.

 

It’s so…still. In a way, Rei loves that. The Shadowlands is a constantly changing void, something so easily alterable even by the slightest thought, and the human world is a constant. It is what it is, and no matter how changeable it is by events, even _that_ is a permanent change—at least, for a little while.

 

The Academy, unfortunately, reminds him of the Shadowlands more than the rest of the human world. It’s why the mere idea of it makes his skin crawl, and Rei avoids it like the plague, rarely attending a single lesson. On this particular occasion, the moon has barely even begun to rise before he slinks into the woods surrounding the Academy, a stolen summoning book in hand.

 

There’s one thing wrong with the human world, and it’s that they _vastly_ underestimate him. For all that his blooming was the talk of the Academy (and still is, for better or for worse), that doesn’t mean they let him do _anything_. So, it’s up to him to do the extracurricular studying that he wants, and that’s how he ends up drawing out a summoning circle in the middle of the forest, stones laid at each point, torches left to burn at the edges.

 

Summoning Ritsu for a visit can’t be _that_ hard.

 

His power is heightened all the more in the middle of the woods like this, and the splash of his own blood added to the circle makes each stone spark and hiss. The final incantation leaves his lips, and the flare of magic and smoke that slowly rises seems—hmm. Far larger than it should be? Unless Ritsu has changed _drastically_ in the last few months, and maybe he has, demons can grow up in some interesting ways…

 

Ah. That’s a tail. And a leathery one at that.

 

“Demon child,” comes the rumble, as the giant serpent’s head forms from smoke into an enormous triangular shape, heat rising in ripples from his snout. “You’re far from home.”

 

He rises, the back of his neck nearly as high as most of the trees, faceted emerald eyes reflecting torchlight. A forked tongue flicks out, tasting the air as the great head sweeps from right to left. His tail lashes, both for balance and to guard, its spadelike tip slicing through long grasses and even saplings without any resistance.

 

 _Mistakes have been made_ , Rei nervously thinks, hastily climbing to his feet and taking a hurried step back. A dragon—he has definitely summoned a _dragon_ , which is decidedly a _turn_ that his magic decided to take at some point or another. What are dragons weak to? Oh. Wait, they _aren’t_ , the magic-impervious little bastards. _Shit._

 

“So I am,” Rei manages, pleased that his nerves don’t come through his voice. “Mind who you’re calling child; you’re in the presence of the Demon Prince.”

 

The dragon’s mouth gapes in a lizardlike grin, which is hardly encouraging. It lifts a claw, taking one step closer to Rei, towering down over him, batlike wings unfurling as much as they can in the small confines of the forest. “My lord,” it says, voice heavy with mockery. “Shall I do you the honor of eating you with your condiment of choice? Ah, but of course…as the Prince of all Demons…a title which means so much…you will have prepared me an appropriate sacrifice, for the audacity of invoking my Name.”

 

Ah. Yes. _Fuck_ , Rei cheerfully thinks. _This is how I die. Not blowing up the world like my mother would like, but in the teeth of a dragon._ “A, um, sacrifice?” Those are the nerves creeping out this time for sure. “Eating humans is a bit…antiquated, don’t you think?”

 

The dragon’s mouth gapes again, clearly amused. “Antiquated? Perhaps. But tasty. Where is my sacrifice?”

 

“There isn’t one. I…you were summoned by mistake. I’m going to send you home.”

 

Green fire sparkles around the dragon’s eyes, gathering and rippling over its scales, which ruffle up as if offended, then clink against each other as they lay down. “Very well. I like your boots, so I will even let you try. Once.”

 

Rei swallows hard. “…and if I don’t succeed?” he hazards to ask. “The human world isn’t meant for creatures like you any longer.”

 

“Or for your true form.” The dragon’s voice is deep, deeper than a human’s could possibly be, rumbling through lungs that are each larger than Rei’s entire body. “If you don’t succeed, I will take my tribute. Is that a fair agreement, from one who wields such power?”

 

 _I’m going to die_. _Sorry, Ritsu, you get to take over after all._

 

Rei shuts his eyes, breathing in a deep breath before he steels himself with a nod. “A fair agreement,” he softly agrees. “But I regretfully don’t know your name, so spellwork to send you home properly might be a bit…”

 

“Don’t worry,” the dragon assures him, finding himself quite amused by this little princeling. “I doubt your magic could hurt me if you did it improperly. Of course, if you prefer…you could find another way to entertain me.”

 

Rei frowns, rocking back onto his heels as he warily stares up at the creature, brow furrowed. “I’m not helping you set fire to a whole village,” he bluntly says. “I’m certain you could do that yourself. I am, however, an excellent violinist. Ah, that’s a joke, don’t make me run and get my violin. Are you sure you don’t want to just go home?”

 

The dragon gives Rei a look that is almost wounded. “I haven’t set fire to a village for a few centuries. Much more difficult, after they discovered building with ssssssstone.” His tongue flicks out, much closer to Rei this time. “Shame. I would have enjoyed…the violin.”

 

“If I try to sneak back in and they discover me—they’ll find _you_. A whole school of wizards,” Rei hastily says, his eyes following the flick of that tongue. “My guess is you’d rather not deal with that. I’ve never actually spoken to a dragon before, so I don’t…know what your kind favors.”

 

“I don’t favor my kind,” the dragon responds, lowering his head, letting one faceted eye sweep over Rei, less than a meter away. “I favor…music. Sssssssmiles. Festivals. And beauty.”

 

“…Yet you want sacrifices,” Rei wryly points out, lifting a hand hesitantly, and taking a step forward to gingerly place it on that massive snout, against all better judgement. “Huh. I expected you to feel much colder—and…harder,” he says, mystified.

 

The dragon blinks, one enormous eyelid flicking sideways in surprise. “You’ve never met a dragon before, little princeling? Are there so few of us left in your country? Or have you dwelt so long abroad?”

 

“The part of the Shadowlands I’m from, even humans can venture into, sometimes,” Rei admits, stroking a long finger down one of those glittering scales. Well, he hasn’t gotten his hand bitten off _yet_. Maybe he’ll come out of this unscathed yet—and maybe the human world will only have a tiny scar where he summoned this thing. “The kinds of creatures that live there are far more…human-like, even in the Shadowlands. Or at least, they like to pretend at it. I’ve only been here for a handful of years.”

 

“Humanlike?” That tongue flicks out in amusement. “Would you like to see how humanlike a dragon can be?”

 

Rei’s head tilts, the dark curls of his ponytail falling forward over his shoulder. “When you phrase it like that,” he says, slowly withdrawing his hand, “I, ah, can’t help but be curious, yes.”

 

“Step back, then, child.”

 

The dragon’s scales shiver, standing on end, then suddenly disappear, melting into rippling green skin that shrinks, as if squeezing all of that bulk down, twisting wildly until a young man stands in its place. He’s tall, with long brown hair, braided with bones and fragments of scales, with broad shoulders and a broad chest, and a startlingly dopey smile on his face. He wears a loose cloth wrapped around his body, tied at one shoulder and the waist, falling to knee-length. “Well?” he asks, tongue flicking out over his teeth, as if curious.

 

Rei’s mouth opens, then shuts, and he stares for a moment longer, attempting to reconcile this human with the dragon he’d dealt with moments before. Well—his mother certainly looks different when she appears human and when she looks like an abomination from the depths of the Abyss, so he supposes he shouldn’t be _too_ surprised. “…You’re still…very tall,” he manages, blinking up at him.

 

“Oh, good.” The man grins, a startlingly boyish expression and he pats his own cheeks, curious. “I have’t tried this one yet. Feels like a pretty good one, though. Not hideous? It’s easier to look at you this way. You look cute.”

 

“‘Cute’ hardly seems befitting for a Demon Prince,” Rei says without an ounce of concern about the compliment. “But thank you. ‘This one’?” he echoes on a second thought, reaching up to poke at one of the bones embedded in the dragon’s hair. “Do you have multiple human forms, like a shape shifter? It’s definitely not hideous. You’re handsome. Much less intimidating, too.”

 

“Ah, what a shame.” The man smiles, and shows glittering teeth, shining like something that doesn’t look quite like human bone. “I still want my sacrifice, princeling.”

 

“…I’m not letting you eat a human.” Rei’s hand drops, fingers curling into his own palm. “Perhaps you’ve been removed from this world for awhile, but—“

 

The man’s hand comes down, flat against Rei’s chest, and shoves, knocking him flat on his back with a burst of unresistable, unstoppable energy. “Mortal, do not think me less threatening because I’ve taken this form,” he says, voice crackling with power, eyes flashing green fire. “Refuse me again at your peril.”

 

The sudden force of that sharp, inhuman magic makes Rei’s teeth bare instinctively, his nails biting into the earth as he forces himself to sit up. The trees about them bow, groaning as they bend and creak as if the winds of a storm are beginning to sweep through. “I’m _not_ letting you have a human,” he repeats in a snap, his eyes glittering deep red in the torchlight. “If you want a sacrifice, take it from me at _your_ peril.”

 

“From you?” The man steps forward, and the air cracks as he does, reality warping around his body, as if he’s taking up a much larger space on the spiritual plane than on the physical one. “Are you giving yourself to me, then?”

 

“If it means you’ll refrain from taking a bite from a human.” Rei’s heart thumps in his chest, and he swallows, staring up at the dragon. “Though I imagine you’ll hear it from the Shadowlands, should you eat me.”

 

“If they can find me.” The man’s voice is a deep rumble, and he’s suddenly _down_ , crouched low over Rei, eyes glittering with inhuman fire, one hand resting on Rei’s chest, keeping him pinned down. “They’ve struggled with that in the past.” Then he drags one nail down Rei’s chest, and his clothes burn away, leaving no trace of cloth behind, just hot enough that Rei can feel it sear against his skin, without any of the damage.

 

Dragons, apparently, like to play with their food. That’s—something. Rei swallows again, audibly this time, and his mind rapid-fire searches for solutions—perhaps he has enough of his own, innate magic stored up to do something, or—or maybe it is better to just let this happen, because the risk runs too high of setting ablaze every human settlement nearby, and even if most of the humans that live near the Academy are Enhanced, they still wouldn’t be prepared, and they could die, which is exactly what he wants to prevent—

 

Maybe more troubling is how his own magic wants to _react._

 

Rei makes a split-second decision, and rolls with it. Truth be told, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s avoided death brought about by his own stupidity and arrogance like this—and so he lurches up against the hand on his chest, grabs a handful of the dragon’s clothing, and yanks him down, crushing their mouths together.

 

Oh.

 

 _Oh_.

 

The surge of potent, delicious energy from his meal is startling, giving the dragon pause. His head tilts, and he slides his hand down from where it rests on Rei’s chest. “You aren’t just a demon,” he murmurs, licking his lips, then licking Rei’s lips, tongue slightly forked at the end. “There’s something…incubus-like about you. Very tasty.”

 

Rei’s breath stutters, his own mouth parting as he tips his head up, tongue flicking out to drag against the dragon’s for a brief second. “Cambion,” he whispers, his eyes lidded. “And a sex wizard. Can you feed like that, too?”

 

“Never tried before.” The dragon’s eyes glitter, and he raises up slightly on his elbows. “For trying and entertaining me, I may let you live. Show me what the humans and Cambions of this age call entertaining.”

 

His own tunic disappears in fire, revealing a sculpted, muscular body, tapering down to a thick cock that twitches in interest, flared wide at the base, rippled all over with bumps and ridges and swirls, all in shades of silver and green, like his scales. The tip twitches up, as if intrigued, revealing a hint of a second shaft behind it.

 

This could be a _worse_ challenge.

 

Rei thinks less, reacts more, and finds himself unable to resist reaching down and wrapping his fingers around that strange (and huge, thanks) cock. “This _,_ ” he murmurs, squeezing, stroking his fingers up slowly to feel each bump and scale, “is very beautiful. Have you ever fucked an incubus before?” He pushes himself up further, reaching up with his other hand to pull the ribbon free from his hair, shaking it out over his shoulders. “Or did you just…eat one?”

 

“Neither,” the dragon muses, eyes fixed down on Rei’s pale, elegant hand. “I met one in school, you taste like she smelled. Is it humanlike enough, do you think? Or should I shift it?”

 

Rei snorts out a soft laugh at that. “Ah—sorry, it’s _definitely_ not humanlike, but you should keep it like this,” he says, head tilting as he runs his thumb up from the base of it. His tongue runs over his lower lip, contemplating. “Can I put it in my mouth?” Fancy, human-trained wizard magic might not be his strong suit at the moment, but this—he can absolutely survive by impressing a dragon sexually. Maybe.

 

“That’s a good question.” The dragon reaches out, tracing a finger over Rei’s mouth. “I’m sure you can put part of it in your mouth. Does your jaw unhinge, perhaps? Intriguing.”

 

“I…don’t think so,” Rei admits, a shiver running down his spine as he reflexively licks at the tip of the dragon’s finger, then sucks it into his mouth to the second knuckle. He releases it with a slick pop, fingers curling tighter about that thick cock. “But I’ll still taste it.”

 

The dragon stares down at his finger, as if he’s never seen it before, and certainly never felt anything like _this_ on the digit. He sits back, resting on his hands, letting his legs splay apart. “You don’t look afraid at all.”

 

“Should I be?” Rei shakes his hair out of his face, shifting to catapult himself forward, crawling onto his hands and knees. “I know what I’m doing.” He could have probably made his escape at this point—the dragon seems distracted and mystified by him enough that he might even make it back to the Shadowlands safely, never mind the Academy—but…

 

That’s a _huge_ cock, so help him.

 

Rei’s fingers curl back around the bottom of it, and his tongue immediately slides over the tip of it, running over the strange texture with a low groan in the back of his throat.

 

A shocked, sharp gasp comes from the dragon’s borrowed human throat, and his hands curl in the dirt, raking furrows through it when pleasure floods through his body, pooling in his abdomen. He swallows hard, and nods, though the demon won’t be able to see him. “You have a nice tongue,” he breathes. “Very human…”

 

The tip of his cock twitches again, curling, letting it slip more easily down Rei’s throat, even as the second shaft brushes against Rei’s cheek.

 

The strange, hot spark of pleasure that pools in Rei’s groin makes him that much more eager, and his grip adjusts, eagerly grasping at that second length of cock when the first slides down his throat on its own. The flat of his tongue rubs at the underside of that first cock, coaxing it down further as he swallows visibly, throat bobbing when he feels it slide down—whether he plans on it or not.

 

Rei’s mind briefly tries to compare this to tentacles (of which he has _some_ experience), but that’s not quite right. This is, more strictly summed up, just an orgy with two people, which is really delightful, and feeds the dull roar of his magic that thuds in his ears, leaving him to inhale through his nose as he tries to take more of that thick cock down his throat. Human forms have limits, but damn it, he’s going to try.

 

“So determined,” the dragon murmurs, fire sweeping over both of them as their magics meet, wash over each other…and _meld_ , something that makes the dragon gasp, his eyes rolling back, one hand coming up to thread through Rei’s hair. His fingernails rake against that scalp, before he senses a twitch and retracts those talons into more humanlike nails, retreating into a gentle pet instead of the urgent grab it had been. “If only you…had dual holes…”

 

Rei’s eyes flutter with the drag of those nails against his scalp, a shiver running down to his toes. The eager, thudding pulse of his own magic is distracting enough, but the dragon’s is so hot and constant that it makes him have to pull back, panting wetly and running his tongue over his swollen lip. “ _Honestly_ ,” he moans in agreement, fingers shaking a little as he squeezes one of those hard shafts. “I mean, hell, you can try to put them both in my ass at once, just, nnh, be nice…”

 

“Better,” the dragon breathes, heat washing over Rei as he loses control for a moment, “would be if I could fly with you. Imagine it, princeling…”

 

That thick cock pulses eagerly in Rei’s mouth, creamy fluid leaking out drop by drop, coating Rei’s throat. “I’d sink my talons into you, spiraling down over a volcano, the ground rushing towards us, the adrenaline flooding you as I drive us out towards the ocean…”

 

Rei sucks hungrily on that cock, swallowing it down again without complaint when the dragon’s magic more or less compels him to. The taste is _very_ different than any human or creature that Rei has ever had his mouth on before, almost sickly-sweet, but nothing could make him stop lapping and swallowing it down, choking for a moment when he tries to take too much, too fast.

 

It’s not a terrible proposition, to be stolen away off to the ocean, if his hasty, trembling fingers trying to stroke that second dick at the same time are any indication.

 

Gently, the dragon pulls him back, the heat radiating off of him less controlled now, less something he can stop, the hunger and _need_ in him building until it’s too much to bear. “It’s forceful,” he says through clenched teeth, dropping a hand to the shaft Rei had been sucking, squeezing and stroking quickly. “Don’t be—in the way—“

 

Listening to reason sounds ridiculous when he’s already been stupid enough to get into this situation, _and_ now he’s horny on top of that. Uncaringly, Rei pulls himself forward, throwing an arm around the dragon’s neck as his other hand strokes and palms along the bumps and knobs of the dragon’s cock. “I’m the Demon Prince,” he breathes, sharp teeth catching against the lobe of the dragon’s ear. “You don’t have to be so careful. Please, just enjoy yourself…”

 

Sparks fly from the dragon’s eyes, green light flashing in the darkness, brighter than any of the torches. He growls, a sound that should be coming from a far larger creature, loud enough to shake the ground, leaves trembling on the forest floor. “Too easy, with something sweet like you,” he breathes, and lets out a sudden roar, splitting the silence, spilling out against Rei’s hands with as much force as the spray from a waterfall, firebursts of liquid from one shaft, then another, then back to the first, alternating in rapid fire.

 

“Fuck,” Rei breathes, finally rocking back when the dragon’s orgasm seems to subside, his fingers coated and dripping as he forces himself to pull it away. There’s a spray up his stomach up to his chest as well, which is not only impressive, but more than enough to make him shiver anew. “Ah…I’m glad that wasn’t in my throat, but…I can’t say I _wouldn’t_ let you come in me elsewhere…” Carefully, he lifts his hand, licking a stripe up the palm of his hand, eyes lidding from the taste. “It’s so _sweet_.”

 

The dragon rumbles deep in his throat, reaching out to stroke a hand down Rei’s hair, a sated grin on his face. His form ripples, briefly showing the outlines of scales, before he masters himself. “Your debt is paid,” he finally says, stroking Rei’s hair again. “My name is Madara, Warden of the West. Should you ever desire to summon me for any reason, speak it into a still pool of water.”

 

“Even if it’s just for a bit of fun?” Rei purrs against all common sense, flopping both arms over those broad shoulders to drape himself entirely against the dragon Madara. “What was that bit about taking me away?”

 

Madara raises an eyebrow. “You want to go flying? When do you need to be home? Time may pass differently for us, in the skies.”

 

“Oh, to hell with it. I hate it here. At the Academy, specifically. They might try to chase you down if you steal me, though, but…I’m assuming you’re _quite_ fast.”

 

Madara grins, and in a second he’s changed, the immense green dragon looming down over Rei. He kneels, bending a wing. “Up on my back, then. I don’t have a saddle, so you’ll have to hang on, but…” He grins, giant teeth exposed. “I’m assuming you’re _quite_ strong.”

 

Rei stoops to scoop up his cloak before clambering his way up onto Madara’s back. “I’ve ridden a few demon horses—I hope it’s worse than that,” he cheerfully says. “Let’s go, before they start to figure out the havoc I’ve wrought upon the world.”

 

“Don’t worry so much,” Madara says, good cheer in his voice as he launches off of the ground, enormous wings beating so hard it shoots them into the air, rapidly gaining speed. “I slip between worlds better than most creatures. You’ll notice it when I leave, though, I promise you that!”

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

There’s a sentry on the road.

 

The way to Sena is already long and winding, and in fall weather, pleasant for him, but thoroughly unpleasant for Makoto. More and more, it’s incredibly apparent that there’s no way Makoto could make it further than this with him. With a sentry posted on the narrow passageway, Izumi only feels irritation, even though it probably means the roads aren’t clear, so they’ll have to find another way—yet again.

 

Except, as far as he can tell, the sentry isn’t human.

 

He feels it as soon as they round the corner, and his hand instinctively falls to his sword, back straight and tense. Bitch growls, tossing her head, stopping short on the icy pass, and Izumi bites back a curse. Why is there something inhuman here? If it was trying to threaten him, wouldn’t it have already killed him? Fuck—has he already been found by Rei?

 

“…We need to turn back,” Izumi quietly says over his shoulder to Makoto. “Sorry—I know you’re tired, but this way’s no good.”

 

Makoto bites back a groan, his shoulders drooping. His thighs are chafed, his magical energies nearly gone, his rump sore, his legs jelly—and above it all, the biting, horrible cold so strong he’s convinced Izumi has had to bring parts of him back from frostbite a few times.

 

He takes in a deep breath, trying not to whine. “Ah…another way, then? Is the pass blocked after all?”

 

“There’s a sentry posted.” Izumi tries to turn his mare around, and the horse snorts, tossing her head again, feet planted solidly in the ground. “Damn it, not right now,” he mutters. “The sentry—it’s not human. Bitch does not like them.”

 

“N-not human?” Makoto’s eyes are huge. “Like…like something like you, maybe? That wouldn’t be so bad…”

 

“No, like a demon. Shadowbred, maybe.” Izumi gives Bitch a sharp kick, and she still refuses to turn around, which makes his teeth immediately grind. “Fine, fuck it, we’re going, this way, just hold onto me,” Izumi mutters, wrapping the horse’s reins about his hand as he kicks her forward instead, and she snorts, shaking her head before taking a wary step forward.

 

The sentry looks as normal as any Northern man, seated atop a Northern horse, but the scent—it’s nothing like a human. He cocks his head, looking Izumi up and down before bowing his head, surprising Izumi into stopping short again. “Prince Ritsu said we should be expecting you.”

 

A shadow steps out of a crevice, as if night itself has been made into corporeal form. It looks vaguely human, then resolves itself a little more, into something vaguely shaped like Prince Ritsu of the Shadowlands. “Izumi,” he says, voice distorted, as if speaking from the bottom of a deep well. “How’s my horse?”

 

“What the…” Makoto makes a nervous holy sign with one finger, shifting further back behind Izumi.

 

In direct contrast to Makoto’s fear, relief immediately floods Izumi, leaving him to sag in the saddle. “Thank the gods—fuck you and your horse, you scared the hell out of me,” he scolds, loosening his grip on his sword. “What the hell is this about? I don’t remember asking you to safeguard my lands for me.”

 

“I know.” Ritsu’s eyes are hooded, face tight. “I wish I’d done it anyway. I’m sorry for what you’re about to find, my friend.”

 

Relief swiftly turns to dread, and Izumi’s mouth goes dry. “Don’t say shit like that,” he hisses, digging his heels into Bitch to spur her forward. “Tell your sentry to get the fuck out of my way. I don’t need an escort into my own country.”

 

“Go back. There’s nothing for you up there.” Ritsu’s shadow turns to face Izumi. “It was destroyed yesterday. Sena was destroyed.”

 

“I don’t believe you.” It _sounds_ like some kind of elaborate lie Rei would tell him, but when it comes out of Ritsu’s mouth, it’s that much more horrible. “If that happened—why didn’t you contact me before I got this far?”

 

“I tried. Are you sealed?”

 

Frustration twists Izumi’s face. “More or less. Damn it, why didn’t you come and find me yourself?”

 

“I can’t leave here.” Ritsu’s voice is flat, but pained at the same time, as if straining against something difficult. “My sending won’t last much longer. I have a few Shades up there, consider them at your disposal, including this servant. You should go back South.”

 

“No. Yuukun, hold on tight,” Izumi snaps, kicking Bitch forward no matter how she rears in protest, and forces her past the sentry’s horse in short order. “We’re going.”

 

Even Ritsu’s words weren’t enough to prepare him for what he sees.

 

The first sign of carnage is on the outskirts of the city, burnt crops and destroyed barns. The further he ventures in, the more obvious something is very, very wrong appears—it’s empty. Empty of people, of animals, of _sound_ , and Izumi’s heart remains in his throat, thudding there with every single breath that he takes.

 

His family manor is almost burnt to the ground, and Izumi’s hands tremble around the reins he holds.

 

“No.”

 

Makoto’s voice is shaken, breathless, lost in the awful silence of the carnage. There are bodies around, or at least parts of them, and Makoto’s arms clutch much more tightly around Izumi’s waist than he’d intended. “No, no, no, no, no…”

 

“Lord Izumi! It’s Lord Izumi!”

 

“Praise the gods, the King is here!”

 

One voice takes up the cry, hidden somewhere in the wreckage. Another voice echoes it, from across the valley.

 

“The King is here! We’re saved!”

 

Something moves, and Makoto’s head whips around, focusing on the single figure, scrambling out of the wreckage of the innermost keep. The man is rugged and bearded, with a new, festering burn scar blistering his exposed shoulder, extending under the rags still belted to him. Despite the horrific injuries, the man’s face just shows grim determination, and a hint of relief at the sight of Izumi. He bows, walking close enough that Makoto sucks in a breath, horrified at the scent of burned flesh. “Majesty. We were praying you’d come,” says Dayton, in a voice that’s little more than a wheeze, far from his usual cheerful bellow.

 

It’s the stuff of nightmares—the stuff Izumi has _had_ nightmares about, horrific stress dreams that summarize every single terrible thing that could happen to a lord’s country and people.

 

And he’s only just now learning of it.

 

Izumi slides wordlessly from his horse, thrusting the reins into Makoto’s hand, his heart pounding in his ears. “Dayton,” he manages, keeping the waver from his voice, but only barely. “My mother—where is she?”

 

“Taken.” Dayton wavers on his feet, indescribable pain in his eyes. “Two days ago. All the—Majesty, we should get inside, I’ll tell you everything. These Watchers, they could strike at any moment, they’re not proper humans.”

 

“Watchers?” Izumi hesitates, glancing about, half-expecting a swarm of Inglings to come out over the hills—but there’s nothing, and that makes him even warier. “Makoto—hop down, just leave the horse and come with me. She’ll kill anything dangerous. What do you mean, _taken?_ ” He swallows, almost too terrified to ask. “And my girls? Where are they?”

 

“…We should speak inside.”

 

Dayton turns, limping back towards the Keep.

 

Makoto slides clumsily off of the horse, looking numb. He hurries through the snow after Izumi, grabbing his hand. “Can you do anything for him?” he whispers. “Or does the seal stop you?”

 

“…I’m going to, but if I did it publicly, it would incite a mob,” Izumi mutters, grabbing Makoto’s hand back tightly to pull him along when he strides after Dayton. “Though I’m about to say fuck the seal. The Emperor can _try_ to drag me home from this, he’d fail.”

 

“Ask about my mother, when…when you can,” Makoto whispers, chewing on his lip as they follow, his feet stumbling over each other. In High Harbor he might be a Dawncloak, but up here, he’ll never feel like more than a kitchen maid’s son, startled to be in the company of the prince.

 

In the Keep, Dayton shuts the heavy door behind them, revealing twenty or thirty men, some dead, some dying, very few well enough to move around. Those that are conscious turn, and bow their heads, whispering amongst themselves. “Praise the gods, the King is here.”

 

Dayton turns, carefully sitting on a wooden stool, the motion making burned skin crackle and flake off of his shoulder, making him grunt. “Two days ago, Majesty. Two dozen or so drakes came down from the glaciers in their original forms. Took all the women and children.”

 

Izumi pulls off his cloak, tossing it over Makoto’s shoulders as he tucks him into the nearest empty corner, setting him down with a squeeze to his shoulder. “But drakes wouldn’t do this,” he softly says, and he reaches out, fingertips hovering an inch over Dayton’s burned shoulder. “So something else did. May I?”

 

Dayton hesitates, pain creasing every movement, then shakes his head. “There’s others that need it better, Majesty. Garrun, there, help him,” he says, pointing with an effort towards a man whose eyes are squeezed tightly shut, breathing labored. “All us men went after them. Up to Avalanche Valley, at this time of year, well, no surprise what happened. Couldn’t get any farther, and the glacier got half of us. When we got back, the creatures were waiting for us. They had a wizard with ‘em, one that liked fire. Against something like that…”

 

“A wizard. Not a wizard from the Academy, they wouldn’t harm you,” Izumi mutters, exhaling a frustrated sound before he turns away, striding towards Garrun instead. “I’ll get to each of you, in order of severity,” he promises as he crouches down, grimacing as he sets his hands to Garrun’s shoulders, feeling the heat of burns underneath, the crackle of his lungs every single time he breathes. This, at least, comes so effortlessly these days that Izumi is certain wasting his time in the Academy is just that—a waste of time. _If being away causes something like this, I’m never going back._ “The more details you can tell me, the better. I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with this alone.”

 

Dayton waves a hand. “I’m just sorry I haven’t done more. When spring comes, I’ll take the rest of the men back to the glaciers. We’ll find them, or die there. I swear it.”

 

“We can’t possibly wait that long,” Izumi snaps, turning his head to look at him. “Our women can’t survive that long. I’ll go myself if I have to—ah, don’t try to sit up just because you can breathe a little better, it’s going to take time,” he scolds, pushing Garrun back down.

 

“The men want to go,” Dayton says softly, watching Garrun’s struggles with pride. “But Majesty, it’s impassable. The glaciers come together this time of year, it’s a thousand feet of ice straight up.”

 

Izumi pulls his hands away, raking a hand back through his bangs as he straightens to his feet. “I’ll do more later, it has to be done in stages,” he quietly says to Garrun before looking back to Dayton. “I know it’s impassable—for humans. I…no, forget it, tell me more about this ‘wizard’ you saw.”

 

“Dunno if that’s what he was,” Dayton admits, stretching out one leg, the pain easing slightly now that he’s not trying to move. “Wasn’t dressed like any of them I’ve ever seen. Real tall. Pale. His fire was silver, I never saw anything like it before. He came with creatures, the ones they’ve got over in the West, dunno the name. Creepy shits, with spines.”

 

 _Snogs_ , Izumi thinks reflexively, but doesn’t say it. He looks around the room, taking stock, and moves to the next man with worse burns, not bothering to wake him from his fever dreams when he sets his hands to his chest. “He sounds like a demon, not a wizard,” he quietly says. “Or something like it. What were the Watchers you were talking about? My friend, he posted several…sentries about, that’s not what you meant, right?”

 

“The birds.”

 

At the word, all the men still conscious mutter, spit on the floor, or make a sign of warding. “The carrion birds, from the Shadowlands. They’re thick these days. Look like humans, in the silhouette, but they’re nothing like humans. Swoop down when they smell weakness. They’ve been here since the second the drakes arrived.”

 

Izumi curses underneath his breath, and shakes out the cold from his hands when his fingertips start to tingle, the sudden overuse of magic making them go numb. “What do you have in the way of rations in this place?” he asks, glancing back over his shoulder. “I know it’s only been a couple of days, but if you’re trying to stay safe…is this it? Are there other survivors?” He doesn’t want to know the answer to that, and just asking it makes dread twist in his stomach.

 

“We have the cellars,” Dayton says, closing his eyes in gratitude. “They didn’t get down that far. They went after the fresh storage and the upper pantries, but didn’t get the cellar. With as few us as there are, it’s plenty until spring. As for more…gods. I hope so. We’ve got the last ones who can ride out looking for survivors now.”

 

“Lord…ah, Your Majesty,” Makoto says softly, and discreetly taps his teeth.

 

“Shit,” Izumi mutters, shoving his tongue against the tips of his fangs as if that’ll make them go away. The sharp prick of pain at least makes him more aware of them, for whatever that’s worth. “After I finish up in here, I’ll go riding out myself. Just…to make sure I can do everything I can. And I know none of you want to leave Sena, but I strongly encourage heading South, assuming I can get the reinforcements to help make that safer.”

 

“Order me,” Dayton says patiently. “I won’t leave here for anything short of a Royal command from you, Majesty. This is our home. And our families are out there.”

 

“I know that—but—“ Izumi exhales a frustrated breath through his teeth, and turns away for a moment, wiping a hand down his face. “I’m not going to order you to leave. I’m…right now, I’m just going to fix everything I can, and then contact who I can to come help. If keeping you all safe until spring is what I have to do, I’ll do that. Calling me ‘Majesty’ when your Lady is up in the glaciers, however—“ Izumi swallows thickly as he shoves his attention back down into another man—less burned than the last, but still unconscious from the pain. “She’ll have your head for it. Rightfully so.”

 

Dayton nods, closing his eyes. “Rightfully so,” he agrees. “All the same, I’ll keep doing it, as long as you’re the last one of the blood in Sena. And Majesty…you don’t need to hide your eyes and teeth. Your men love you.”

 

“I think they make me considerably less beautiful, so I’ll keep hiding them, thank you,” Izumi only half-jokes, keeping himself firmly bent over the man that he’s healing. “I’m already letting you all see me after too many weeks of travel, that’s my limit.”

 

Dayton grins, the ghost of his old self, though his eyes stay closed. “Kallen!” he calls, and a young man, in his late teens and still beardless, comes running up from his post watching out the window. “Majesty, Kallen’s probably in the best shape of any of us. Use him for anything you need, he’s a good lad.”

 

“I brought some oatcakes from the cellar,” the young man offers, setting a small cloth bag on a low oaken table. “They’re no fare fit for a king, but…none of us know how to cook, see…”

 

“Don’t worry yourself with me, I’ll eat when you’re all in fighting shape again.” Izumi straightens, turns towards Makoto, and grabs him over by a hand on his wrist. “It’s going to start leaking, I know,” he quietly says, “but just let it happen. The worst it’ll do is start healing everyone faster, and by that point, I’ll probably be done anyway. Also…I know there’s a wizard’s outpost up here. Is there away to contact the Academy directly from it?” It hurts to even suggest that, but—his people _need_ him to think like that right now.

 

Makoto blinks down at him—it’s still so strange that he’s taller than Izumi, it just feels wrong somehow—and nods hesitantly. “If you want to speak face to face with someone, sure,” he says, frowning. “But if you just want to send a message, I can do that much.”

 

“I need it to not be intercepted by whatever’s up here. Can you guarantee that?”

 

“I mean…I’d say yes?” Makoto’s voice turns into a squeak. “But only if it’s a wizard, I don’t know that much about Shadowlands creatures, I never took that elective…”

 

“If it’s a wizard, it’s _also_ something else, judging by the description.” Izumi chews at his lower lip, thinking. “Fuck it, I trust you. Better than not letting them know. I’ll write something up for you later, thank you. Right—those seem to be the worst of the burns, hands up for anyone that has trouble breathing,” he says more loudly, leaning away again. “Even a cough counts. Dayton, if you lie, I’ll just freeze you solid.”

 

Dayton sighs, then raises his hand to the height of his head, wiggling the fingers. “I wouldn’t mind being frozen right now, to be honest. It’d feel plenty better than the burns.” His voice wheezes as he talks, and his smile is more of a grimace. “I’d appreciate being able to help more, Majesty.”

 

“You’ll feel as good as new by the time I’m done with you, for better or for worse,” Izumi grouses, stalking over to take care of him first, hating the wheeze in his voice. The busier he keeps, the less he has to think about where his mother and daughters are, and if they’re even still _alive_. _Damn it, damn it, how am I supposed to fix all of this?_

 

An hour or so later, Izumi teeters on the edge of exhaustion—but at least no one is _dying_ anymore, as far as he can tell. Hands trembling, he snatches up an oatcake, shoving it mindlessly into his mouth as if that’ll help, and collapses down next to Makoto, shutting his eyes. “Don’t send it directly to the Emperor…if you can help it,” he says. “But if there’s no other way, fine. Let them know something…maybe something from the Shadowlands razed the North. If they want to send wizards, I won’t say no. Don’t mention my name. If they show up here and try to drag me back, they can kiss my ass.”

 

Makoto’s hand comes up, immediately petting Izumi’s hair, as if it’s something they’ve done a thousand times. Sometimes, he remembers things vaguely about Izumi’s soul, from the time they were bonded, things that he’d have no way of knowing. One of them is how much contact like this _helps_ , and he strokes gently, trying to have some skin to skin contact, even if he’s all-too-conscious of the eyes on him. _Let them hate me for it. As long as it helps him, it’s worth it._

 

“I’ll tell them. The Academy has a designated receiver, the note will probably show up on his office desk. I don’t know who it is personally, though? Ah, if there’s anything I can do…if there’s anything, just…I’ll do it.”

 

Izumi shivers down to his bones, resisting for a moment longer before he slumps slowly to the side, resting his head against Makoto’s shoulder. “Take your clothes off and let me just lay on you naked,” he says, only sort of joking. “Maybe then I’ll recharge.”

 

“Can we move somewhere private?” Makoto whispers, feeling the weight of eyes on him, his stomach clenching with nerves.

 

“What, you don’t want to compete with Dayton for my affections?” Izumi deadpans, but he pauses before adding, “You get to help me up. My legs feel like goo.”

 

Makoto wriggles out from under Izumi, carefully standing and getting Izumi’s arm around his shoulders. “Oof,” he grunts, flushing when everyone else is dealing with so much more, but he’s still struggling. “S-sorry. I’m really sore from the ride. I’ve never been in the Keep…”

 

“Majesty,” Dayton cuts in, voice far stronger now. “There’s a room, your mother’s safe room. That’s the best we have.”

 

“I can show you, Majesty,” Kallen says, offering another oatcake lamely, clearly feeling as useless as the rest of the men.

 

“That’s more than enough, thank you,” Izumi exhales, dangling from Makoto’s shoulder for a moment long before he forces himself to get his feet underneath himself, no matter how it feels as if his knees will buckle at any moment. He takes the oatcake, because he’s polite, but the idea of eating makes him want to die. “Just let me rest, and then I can think more clearly.”

 

Makoto takes the oatcake from him, palming it so Izumi doesn’t have to deal with it. The Keep’s innermost sanctum is sort of a bedroom, though with considerably more weapons on the wall, and thicker doors. It takes all of Kallen’s effort to shut it, after assuring them that he’ll be right outside, accessible by the ringing of the bell.

 

“You don’t like to eat much, right?” Makoto asks, taking a bite of the oatcake before shucking his robes, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You can…you can have whatever you want from me, though.”

 

Izumi immediately shucks his own shirt, then kicks his boots off before he launches himself at Makoto, plastering himself to his chest. “Just let me lay on you for a minute.” He buries his face into Makoto’s neck, inhaling slowly, shakily. “I don’t know what to do.”

 

Makoto slowly strokes Izumi’s hair and neck, turning his face to give his temple a soft kiss. “You just saved a lot of lives. Whatever you do…it’s going to be better than whatever was here before we came.”

 

Izumi’s head shakes slowly, arms trembling as he loops them around Makoto’s waist. “I don’t even know what’s out there,” he miserably says. “And I already failed—if I had been here, I would’ve been able to…do _something._ My mother’s out there, and my daughters, andeveryone else’s wives and children, I don’t…I don’t know how to fix that. I can survive the cold, sure, but getting into those glaciers, I don’t even know where to start. Sorry. I’m not asking for input, I’m just—venting. I hate this.”

 

Makoto frowns, then thinks for a moment, an idea taking form in his mind. “Um…I know you’re not asking for input, but…well, just an idea, maybe? But when I was young, I heard that your mother had an ever-frozen piece of the oldest glacier in the Keep somewhere, was that true?”

 

“I don’t know,” Izumi admits, his head thunking down against Makoto’s chest. “She was always so vague about it, I think she used to make up stories just to freak us all out. Why?”

 

“Ah…well…” Makoto shrugs. “I’m not very good at a lot of things, but I’m pretty good at scrying, if I have a physical link…it’d be hard, but if it’s a part of the oldest glacier…isn’t that where the drakes are supposed to live?”

 

“…That’s a good idea.” Izumi exhales a slow breath, and nods, rubbing his cheek against Makoto’s skin. “A very good idea. We can try to find it later, yeah? But you’re going to let me lie here and you’re going to pet me in the meantime or I’m going to pass out.”

 

Makoto closes his eyes, arms around Izumi’s waist, petting his lower back. “You can do anything you want,” he whispers. “Anything that would help.”

 

“I want a lot,” Izumi says with a wet laugh, shutting his eyes. “But I’m too tired, and I don’t want to make you redo the seal again right now…you need to conserve your own strength. Just let me pass out, and then you can contact the Academy, and…maybe something useful will come out of that, too.”

 

Makoto nods, hoping he seems comforting in any way. “Try to sleep well. We all need you. If you weren’t here…I’d have died a long time ago, you know. Take whatever you can. I’ll do my best.”

 

It’s nearly three days before Izumi is completely rested up, and another two before Makoto feels like he can get an actual read on anything north of Sena. It’s more difficult when he’s never been to the place he’s gazing on, and the piece of glacier, kept everfrozen by some ancient magic he isn’t even close to understanding, tries to resist him. Maybe it’s the magic itself that’s interfering with him, driving him to severe frustration day in and day out, until he has to be forced to eat and rest in the evenings. Finally, on the fifth day of frantically scanning mysterious blocks of ice until his eyes blur, he starts to make out moving shapes. He leans in, excited, bringing all of his focus to bear—

 

And the great horn of alarm sounds, breaking the silence, and the vision shatters.

 

“Damn!” Makoto curses, standing and scrubbing at his face, rubbing the heels of his hands over his bleary eyes. “Damn, damn, damn! What? What is it?”

 

Kallen runs up, eyes sweeping the Keep. “Majesty! An attack, we need your orders! There’s an assassin with one of those demons!”

 

Izumi bolts up to his feet, immediately grabbing for his sword. A chance to actually face whatever has been terrorizing his people—never mind if it’s a demon, or some kind of strange creature that he’s never seen before—makes his heart thud. “Stay back near the Keep,” he flatly orders, stalking his way to the door. “I need to see this for myself. Understood?”

 

He shoves the door open, fingers curled about his sword hilt. Bitch, lingering near the doorway, snorts and tosses her head, the remains of something bloody dangling from her teeth. He smells the snog before he actually sees it, and it makes his stomach churn. “Show yourself, or my sword will find you!”

 

An answering snort echoes first, followed by the sound of sharp hooves on ice. Then, a deep male voice calls, “Izumi? Is that you?”

 

Immediate recognition makes Izumi falter. “…Arashi?” he manages, grabbing Bitch’s bridle when she reflexively thinks of lunging forward, clearly contemplating going on the hunt again. “Arashi, is that really you?”

 

Arashi’s horse sidles, flaming red eyes on Bitch. “Stop it,” he grunts, rapping her between the ears. “Gods, I thought I’d missed you and you’d be gone by now.” His eyes flick around, the glint of the pin on his lapel catching the light, still in his most masculine persona.

 

Izumi’s lower lip wobbles. Instinctively, he wants to bolt forward and climb up the side of that horse to be _close_ to Arashi, but the last shred of reservation makes him hold back. “Tell me something only you’d know,” he says, voice wavering.

 

Arashi’s mouth tightens, and he looks from side to side, wary. “Damn, I hate questions like this,” he complains. “They make me feel so dumb.” His hands tighten on the reins, and he says quietly, “Artan. Goran. Eris.”

 

“That’ll do,” Izumi manages before he strides forward, then runs the last few steps, avoiding the snapping teeth of Arashi’s freshly acquired demon horse to pull himself up into the saddle, arms thrown about his neck. One inhale of Arashi’s scent makes his knees weak, and he struggles not to just burst into tears right then and there. “What the hell are you _doing_ here—did someone tell you, or send you, o-or—“

 

Arashi squeezes hard enough to nearly break a rib, feeling his eyes sting as he buries his face in Izumi’s shoulder. “You look like shit,” he says through tears, slapping Izumi’s back for good measure. “Complicated answer, is it safe to talk out—get away, he doesn’t want to smell you,” he hisses to Cupcake, though his hand comes down to rest on the creature’s head, rather than kicking it away the way he would have a week ago.

 

“T-that thing smells terrible, let me hug it,” Izumi sniffles, though he doesn’t pull away from clinging to Arashi, holding so tightly to him that his arms start to go numb. “You can’t bring it inside, my men hate those things. Leave it, and your horse, and let’s go in the Keep, t-then we can talk.” His breath hiccups, and he lifts his head to stare up at Arashi, all of the stress and insecurity and fear he refuses to let his men see written plain as day across his face. “They’re all gone,” he whispers. “Every woman, every child—and so, _so_ many men are dead, Arashi.”

 

“All—gone?” Arashi’s eyes widen in horror. “What? What—I heard there was an attack, that’s why Rei wanted me to come, but…” His mental image of Sena, the bustling, cheerful, overly-affectionate place it had been last time he’d visited, barely looks like this wasteland. “Cupcake can’t wait outside by himself, he’ll be lonely, I’ll take responsibility for him.”

 

Izumi eyes the snog, who stares back at him, tail slowly wagging. “…Fine, but let me warn them first,” he says, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “They’ll want to kill him, seriously. Just come inside and cuddle me, I’m suffering. I don’t want to hear about Rei’s bullshit.”

 

“The king is safe, just so you know,” Arashi says, and lifts the snog, tucking it into his coat the way they’d done every night on the cold road. “My condition for coming up here was that he had to get the Warden to watch him, you know he’ll be safe.”

 

“Fuck—some kingsguard I am, I h-haven’t even had time to think about him,” Izumi whispers, guilt washing over him at that. He forces himself to release Arashi, brushing himself off, trying to pull himself together as much as possible. “But that’s…that’s good. Thank you. Just come inside, it’s not safe out here.”

 

He strides ahead of Arashi, shoving open the door with his shoulder. “It’s clear,” he announces, hoping his red eyes and flushed skin isn’t too incriminating. “The Lord of the West is here—and before any of you try to kill it, he has a _tame_ creature with him that serves him, do not stab it. I’ll make sure it’s locked up all the same.”

 

At the sight of the snog, Dayton’s frown turns puzzled, and his head tilts. “It don’t look like the rest of ‘em,” he says at last, sheathing his sword. “No spines. And I never seen one of them act like that, all cuddly. Ah, greetings, Milord. Sorry our hospitality isn’t what it should be.”

 

Arashi gives him a nod, as regal as he can when there’s a snog trying to look out of his collar. “I don’t need hospitality, sir. Just a moment to talk to your Lord.”

 

“My King,” Dayton corrects immediately.

 

“Come with me,” Izumi says, deciding not to go into a debate on titles, and grabs Arashi’s hand to drag him forward. “We need to discuss all of this.”

 

He knocks once on the private safe room’s door before heaving it open with a grunt of effort. “Arashi, you remember Yuukun,” he says by way of greeting. “Arashi, please put your manstrength to use and close this damn door, I feel like a noodle.”

 

Cupcake the snog promptly wiggles his way out of Arashi’s shirt, hopping up onto the bed as if he owns the place. He circles twice, then flops down, tail flopping slowly back and forth.

 

Arashi shuts the door, looking as if he’s shutting one of the light wooden ones in the Capital, one-handed and careless. “Excellency, nice to see you again. Izumi, I was wondering who you’d kidnapped to keep you sealed, I’m surprised it was so literal. A joke, only a joke.”

 

“It’s my home, too,” Makoto replies, rubbing his temples fiercely, too tired and annoyed for his usual nerves. “You…have a pet snog.”

 

“It was Mika’s.” Izumi’s mouth twists, and he strides over to Makoto, touching his temple with tingling fingertips. “Take a nap. I need to chat with Arashi, and you aren’t going to accomplish anything when you’re this exhausted, idiot.”

 

“I _had_ it,” Makoto grumbles, flopping down grumpily on his side, the lines around his eyes relaxing under Izumi’s touch. “I saw people moving in the ice. I’ll try again when I get up.”

 

“People in the ice?” Arashi asks quietly.

 

“You’ll get it again later,” Izumi reassures him, stroking a hand down Makoto’s back as he throws a blanket up and over him. “Just rest.”

 

He turns away, folding his arms over his chest to grip his own arms anxiously. “He’s trying to scry where everyone was taken,” he quietly says. “Dayton told me that the drakes came and did it before… _something_ attacked. I know they were just trying to protect the women and children here, but…winter is starting, and there’s no way I can get up there to bring them back, let alone make sure that they’ll survive.”

 

Arashi turns that over in his mind for a moment, thinking, trying to process all of this awful tragedy at once. “If they took them to keep them safe,” he says slowly, “maybe it would be better to let them…have them? Don’t get mad, I just mean, isn’t it better if they’re safe?”

 

“I don’t _know_ ,” Izumi bemoans. “That’s the problem. If I could just— _talk_ to one of the drakes, maybe that would settle it? Then I could let them protect half my country, and I can do the rest, but not knowing is the worst. It’s my mother, Arashi.” His lower lip wobbles. “My mother, my kids, they’re gone, a-and all I can keep doing is _nothing_. Fuck, I’m so glad to see you, I don’t know why you’re here, but I’m so fucking glad.”

 

“I’m here because Rei gave me a stupid tiny excuse to come and find you,” Arashi admits, yanking Izumi into his lap, wrapping his arms around his waist. “And I grabbed it, because I miss you so fucking much.”

 

“Fuck Rei,” Izumi says, his voice muffled when he buries his face down into Arashi’s neck, swiftly latching onto him. _Arashi_ smells like home, far more than anything in this place right now, and that makes him shudder in relief. “But I’ll thank him later anyway, I guess. I thought maybe Shu gave you my letter. I was inviting you to head me off here for a quickie.”

 

Arashi laughs, relief strong in the sound. “I thought you’d hate me for showing up,” he admits. “Because he wants me to bring you back. But if he finds out what’s going on here, I doubt he’d want me to.” He pauses, then adds, quietly, “No change, by the way. I checked on him just before I left.”

 

“It’s not like I can _hurt_ much of anything if my magic gets weird—I hate the Academy so much, I always want to leeeeave,” Izumi groans, slumping into Arashi’s chest. “I want to know why I can’t just stab everything with a sword, thanks. I still want to keep going further North, to track down…anything, I don’t know. I’m sorry this is all slowing me down.”

 

“That’s not why he sent me,” Arashi says quietly, gathering Izumi to him harder, as if terrified he’ll disappear if he doesn’t squeeze tight. “He says there’s a bunch of creatures up here who would be attracted to the taste of your magic, or something, that you could attract them to you.”

 

He looks down at Izumi, and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. “You should go back down. I’ll stay here, I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

 

“I _can’t_.” Izumi swallows, even as he butts his head firmly against Arashi’s touch, leaning into his hand like a cat starved for touch. “I appreciate it. I really do. But if I leave, I’m abandoning the North. These men need me. What could I possibly attract that’s worse?”

 

“But what if you being here makes things—look, I don’t want to have to say any of this,” Arashi mutters, resting his forehead against Izumi’s, closing his eyes. “I love you so much, I just wanted to be with you, but gods, I’m _worried_. This is all…way too big even for you.”

 

“No one else is going to do anything,” Izumi whispers, lacing his fingers around the back of Arashi’s neck, his breath escaping shakily. “No one else cares about the North. If I step away, you can’t stay up here until Spring. You’ve already done so much, I can’t ask you to _keep_ doing things.”

 

“I can stay up here as long as I want,” Arashi says, giving Izumi’s back a light tap of reproof. “If the Warden is watching the King, he’s safe. If you’re back in the Capitol, you’re safe. Mika…” He swallows. “I can say a lot of things, but he’s safe. And my Regent is doing a fine job in my Dominance, so yes, if you need me here, I can absolutely be here. I care about it because…it’s yours. And you think I wouldn’t do anything in the world to get Elia and Kinsley back?”

 

Izumi’s eyes water, and he lurches up, sealing his mouth to Arashi’s. “ _Stop it_ ,” he vehemently huffs, yanking on a handful of Arashi’s hair. “Stop it, I want to kick you out and n-not let you keep _doing_ things.”

 

“Ehhh? Why?” Arashi asks, a smile on his face as he brushes the hair away from Izumi’s face, letting himself be yanked around and kissed. “I…I just…” He tries to maintain his good humor and fails, eyes stinging again. “Dammit. I love those kids. And I—I couldn’t—I’ve never been able to do a damn thing for M-Mika, at least let me do this for you.”

 

“Stupid, you’ve always done a million and one things for him,” Izumi mumbles, pulling Arashi’s hair over his shoulders, anxiously petting and smoothing it. “I’m not leaving. I c-can’t. I…I _want_ to go back to the Capital so badly,” he admits, his voice wet at the edges. “But I wouldn’t be able to go there, I’d get stuck in the Academy again, and I hate it _so much…_ I’m not a wizard, damn it. Maybe that’s what magic says I am, but it’s not…who I am,and I kind of…pointedly refuse to deal with it, you know? I’m a knight, I worked my whole life to _be_ a knight, and n-no one in the Academy gets why I’d want that more. Being a knight has protected a lot more people than being a goddamn wizard.”

 

Arashi strokes Izumi’s hair for a long moment, just listening, letting him vent. “This sucks,” he finally says, cuddling Izumi to his chest. “This sucks so much. I hate that it happened to you, I know you never asked for it. But darling…at this point…it’s not about needing to learn to use it, is it? It’s just about getting to the point where it doesn’t mess you up. Because you’ve got to do that, right? You have to learn to control it, so it can’t be used against you.”

 

“I don’t like sucking at this,” Izumi crossly says. “At _anything_. But I’d settle for passing if I _could_. No one in the Academy knows what they’re doing. So I’m staying up here, and if I explode a little, fuck it. Maybe it’ll kill something bad.”

 

“And if you bring more bad things down up here?” Arashi asks quietly. “I swear, I swear I’m on your side, don’t get mad at me for asking.”

 

“What if I bring down something that can help?” Izumi huffs, scowling up at him without any real vitriol. “I know, it’s a risk, but what other choice do we have at this point? I _know_ something bad is going around Leo, too, I don’t know all the details, but I know it’s bad, and so I’m just not willing to sit around here and wait. I need things to _move_ so I can get back to him, too.”

 

“Don’t make stuff up,” Arashi says gently. “I told you, he’s with the Warden. He’s annoying, but you can’t deny Leo’s safer than anyone else in the country right now. What the hell good thing could you bring in?”

 

“Drakes.” Izumi’s lips purse. “Screw you, I’m not making anything up. I think the Warden’s full of shit. Maybe Leo’s safe, but I still don’t have to _like_ that guy.”

 

“No one _likes_ him,” Arashi says with a sigh. “But he’s more powerful than anyone who’d try to hurt the king. Anyway, you think you can summon a drake? How?”

 

“I don’t know. By existing?” Izumi figurative feathers are now visibly ruffled. “I don’t like going into this blind, but I’ll figure it out. Stop talking about that guy, it makes me feel even more useless.”

 

“You ever summon a drake before?” Arashi asks, eyebrow raised. “What makes you think this is going to work, darling? What if a bunch of demons show up and kill the rest of us? Just let me handle it, go back to the Capitol like you obviously want to.”

 

“I’m gonna hit you. I _can’t_ go back, I’ll just get tossed back into the Academy and blocked off from everything.”

 

“That’s where you’re supposed to be, though!” Frustration creeps into Arashi’s voice, though not at Izumi, not with the way he tries to pull him even closer. “You can’t just leave because you don’t like it, not if it’s going to mean you stay locked down and attracting monsters all the time! Stop throwing a tantrum!”

 

“How the fuck is it a tantrum when I’m trying to save my country? When I’m trying to help _Mika?_ ” Izumi shoves away, too frustrated. “I don’t _want_ someone else to cover my ass all the time. Fuck you for thinking I’m just ‘leaving because I don’t like it’, I’m leaving because I’m useless there! Rei just wants me back because he likes having someone around to fix his papercuts. At least up here, my people respect me—and they’re _my_ people, not anyone else’s, damn it!”

 

“So what?” Arashi demands, standing up, facing Izumi down. “So, what’s the plan? Tell me what to do, and we’ll do it, but if your only idea is to summon the creatures that just abducted your people, _maybe we should do what the Emperor says!_ ”

 

“Fuck the Emperor! He’s lying through his teeth to you, no matter what he told you,” Izumi snaps back, digging his heels in. “The creatures that abducted my people are doing more than he is, which is protecting them! Makoto is trying to find out where exactly they are, and from there, I can maybe contact them—or find a safe pathway there to get them _back_. Those same drake were probably at that village that was slaughtered; they might know what happened, what kinds of magic, and maybe I can kill two birds with one stone and help Mika! It’s not without risk, but fuck it, I’d rather risk something than sit in the Academy and be told what to do for the rest of my life by someone I don’t want to follow!”

 

Arashi exhales heavily, running his hands back through his hair. “Rei said if I don’t bring you back, he’ll come up here and drag us--“

 

“I’ll ask him,” Makoto interrupts, sitting up at the sounds of raised voices. “The water’s calling me. It’s him. Izumi…what do you want me to say?”

 

“Tell him to go fuck himself.”

 

Izumi throws himself down onto the bed, grabs a pillow, and holds it over his own face in the event he needs to _scream_.

 

“I don’t mind being the one who talks to him,” Arashi says hastily. “Can you do that?”

 

Makoto nods, giving Izumi a worried look before pulling out his water-filled mirror. He summons the spell, taking a full ten minutes to make sure he’s doing it properly. Finally, he opens his eyes, seeing the form of the Emperor in the mirror, quailing slightly at the sight of such an important person. “U-um, hello, Excellency, sir, Milord. Sorry to bother—I mean, you’re the one who summoned me, but with my note, I’m s-sorry to bother you?”

 

Rei’s long, painted fingers drum slowly against his own cheek, his expression thoroughly unfazed. “Calm yourself, little one. You aren’t a bother. I’m extremely interested in the news you have to offer, however, about the state of the North.” He pauses, and cocks his head. “Is that Captain Arashi back there?”

 

“Hello,” Arashi says neutrally, stepping forward to lean down over Makoto’s shoulder. “So, the situation has changed, Excellency. I just arrived, but things are…weird. I think you’ll want to hear about it.”

 

“Weird,” Rei echoes, eyebrows raising. “I do indeed want to hear about how weird it is. Is Izumi lurking about there as well?”

 

“Yes, he says to go fuck yourself,” Arashi says briskly. “Sena has been attacked. The women and children are all missing, somewhere in the glaciers. The men were attacked by demons. There are fewer than two hundred survivors in most of the North. The ones left will not survive the winter without significant assistance from the Capitol, and there could be another attack at any time.”

 

Silence reigns for a moment, and Rei slowly leans back, his expression unreadable. “I see. Unfortunately, this is the exact sort of thing I was hoping to avoid. It sounds to me as if the threat in the West is making its way to the North. Wataru and Natsume should be close; it shouldn’t be an issue to ask them to come that way and investigate further. When are you heading back?”

 

“As expected, he doesn’t want to come back,” Arashi says, shooting Izumi’s huddled form a glare. “But I think it’s unreasonable to expect him to abandon his mother and daughters in danger. The situation is undeniably different from what you’d told me.”

 

“His presence up there will only attract more of the same.” Rei pauses, looking contemplative. “Actually. Never mind, stay up there.”

 

Izumi sits up at that, eyes narrowed. “That,” he says accusingly. “That’s what I’m talking about. Suspicious. Whatever, I’m not complaining, I’m _absolutely_ staying.”

 

Arashi’s shoulders relax in sudden relief. Having to drag an unhappy Izumi home was _not_ his idea of a good time. “Great. We’ll find a way to get North to the drakes, he thinks that’s the best option, now that we’ve stabilized Sena.”

 

“Is that what he thinks.” Rei shrugs one shoulder, face impassive. “What you’re dealing with—well. If you head North, you’ll probably draw out more of these creatures. No, you definitely will. Is that a risk you’re willing to take?”

 

“If I have help, it wouldn’t be so difficult,” Izumi presses, crushing his pillow to his chest. “Send Wataru—or Natsume would be even better.”

 

“Ah…well, if you _are_ staying up there, along with Makoto, I don’t want to stretch resources even further, and your Captain there has always praised the use of wizards that are _not_ Nightcloaks on the front lines.”

 

“Good to know you care so much about proving a point instead of rescuing a bunch of innocent citizens,” Arashi snaps. “Makoto, contact the king instead. His Excellency isn’t my commander.”

 

“Stop being so defensive,” Rei sharply cuts him off. “I’m giving you the opportunity to fix this without bringing in Nightcloaks, and drawing _more_ attention to the area first. Contact the king if you wish, but if he sends human reinforcements—by the sound of it, you’ll see more casualties.”

 

“…That is a reason why I didn’t contact Leo immediately,” Izumi admits to Arashi, setting his chin onto his knees. “Most soldiers are useless here. The Watchers alone can take down a horse.”

 

“I don’t know what a Watcher is,” Arashi snaps. “Fine. Me and Izumi and Makoto will do this. Is the Warden behaving himself?”

 

“We had a conversation…” Rei airily supplies. “He seems to be adjusting well. I don’t think you need to worry about the king.”

 

“Not that I get to know anything about that situation, anyway,” Izumi mutters, trying not to let his hackles raise too much when ultimately, he’s getting what he wants. “Arashi. I can tell you the rest of the details later. Stop snarling at the Emperor, he likes it too much.”

 

Arashi huffs, and turns away from the mirror, flopping down next to Izumi. “Cool. Let’s plan what we’re going to do, then. What’s the terrain like? Could Bitch and Ritsu get up there?”

 

“Get rid of the Emperor, I’m done talking to him,” Izumi huffs over to Makoto, rolling away as well to sprawl out on the bed completely. Cupcake rouses, making a strange, chirpy, croaky noise as he wallows up between them. “Um…can you move him? I still don’t like touching him.”

 

Arashi looks down at the animal, then lifts it around the waist, setting him down on his other side, laying a hand on his scaly head. “He’s changed a lot since Mika…since he hasn’t been around anymore. I tried to get him to go home, but…look at his eyes. They’re so sad, I felt really bad.”

 

“You’re getting weird in your old age,” Izumi tells him, wrinkling his nose at the snog. “Wash your hands before you touch me if you keep petting that thing. Right, but to your question—um, you know Ritsu can’t come, right? He’s busy in the Shadowlands.”

 

“Huh? No, I rode him here. Oh! Oh, right, the horse the Emperor gave me is named Ritsu,” Arashi says with a laugh, absently petting the snog behind its earholes.

 

“It’s…it’s named Ritsu. The _Emperor’s_ horse is named Ritsu.”

 

“It’s _mean_ ,” Arashi says solemnly. “I think he might be different with the Emperor than he is with us.”

 

“Ah…sure. Anyway,” Izumi settles upon, pulling the leather thong out of his hair. “Back to the question, properly this time. Basically, North of here, barely twenty minutes away—it turns to glaciers.” He arranges the strip of leather out onto the coverlet. “Assume that’s the glacier barrier. Everything North of it—“ He flutters a hand up the entire rest of the bed. “Is ice. When Winter rolls in, it becomes impenetrable for normal humans. _I_ think the horses can go, and I think I can go…but I worry about anyone else,” he admits, glancing up to catch Arashi’s eyes. “Maybe someone like you could do it. You’re a lot easier to keep alive.”

 

“But the wizard can’t,” Arashi finishes for him. “Do we need him? I mean, there _must_ be supplies and stuff that you folks have up here for just this kind of thing, right? If people live in villages up there, someone must know how to scale these pieces of icy shit.”

 

“The kinds of people that live up there never come down here, so they don’t have to bother. Honestly, I don’t know much about them—if Northerners are hicks compared to anyone from the Capital, these people are hicks to _us_ ,” Izumi admits. “And even if we could scale the glaciers…if we can’t come back down, we’re fucked. Or so I’m told, whatever. I think we can do it, because I’m desperate, heh.”

 

Arashi snorts. “Coming down is the easy part. Listen, darling. I’ve never even seen a glacier up close, so I’m not an expert, sort of, but I _did_ grow up playing on the hills of the Sharps, and a lot of them are made of obsidian. They’re slippery, cold, and steep as hell. Getting down is easy, all you need is a good rope, good gloves, and good boots.”

 

“Consider we find lots of women and less-than-robust children, though. I mean—I guess at that point, I can try to beg a Nightcloak over for help,” Izumi hazards, chewing on his lower lip and watching that _weird_ snog try to purr as it rubs against Arashi’s hand. “Or hope the drakes are friendly and want to help. Why does that thing love you so much now?”

 

“He’s sad, be nice to him,” Arashi says, pouting. “Look, he misses Mika, how can I be mean to him? He…huh.”

 

Arashi frowns, looking down at the snog, then leans down to touch one of its feet. “You know, these are really sharp. I bet this thing could scamper up and down the ice like crazy. If we could tie a rope around it, this could get _easy_.”

 

“You can’t be serious.” Izumi gingerly reaches forward, remembering how much it hurt to be bit and scratched by a snog in the past, and examines one of Cupcake’s feet. The thing just lies there, as placid as an old dog. “Can it survive cold like that? Can it lift us? I mean, I know it can lift _me_ , buuut…”

 

“Can you do it?” Arashi asks, as if the thing can understand him. “Heh, ignore me, I’m being really…look, don’t judge, it was just the two of us on the road for a while.”

 

“You’ve really been on the road for awhile. I just called you fat and you ignored me for a snog.” 

 

“You didn’t call me fat,” Arashi informs him. “I know that, because if you did, I’d have to cry, and we’re busy.” He rubs the snog’s belly, contemplative. “Sometimes it’s like he really can understand me.”

 

“I haven’t been allowed to see you in almost a _year_ ,” Izumi slowly says, his eyes narrowing to slits as the snog turns over with a happy gurgle, “and you’re going to keep petting a smelly snake dog when I’m _right_ here.”

 

“If I start,” Arashi says immediately, giving him a sly look out of the corner of his eye, “do you think we’ll ever be able to stop? I thought this was important.”

 

Izumi pouts, not matter how he tries not to. “I just healed dozens of men that were on the verge of death or burned to the point of uselessness, then slept for three days. Be nice to me, or I’m not going to be able to climb a single fucking glacier.”

 

“I just rode a very scary demon horse for a week with no company except a smelly snog,” Arashi protests, “and all of it was for _you_. At least try to kiss this lapel pin off of me.”

 

“I’d love to, but that smelly snog is between us, and you’re still petting it, not _me_.”

 

“U-um,” Makoto squeaks, “should I…leave the room?”

 

Izumi grimaces, and pushes himself up onto an elbow to look over his shoulder at Makoto. “Sorry—you don’t have to. I know there’s not really anywhere else private for you to work. I…can hold off, I guess.” _That_ takes more self-control than Izumi can ever remember having before in his life.

 

Arashi looks from Izumi to Makoto, and holds his tongue. With anyone else, he’d suggest a threesome, and cheerfully, but he isn’t exactly clear on where he stands with this kid, or where Izumi does. “Izumi, take me outside to look at this glacier, yeah? C’mon, Cupcake, I want to see how climby you are.”

 

Izumi tries not to look too pathetic as he forces himself out of bed, grabbing up his cloak and sword. “It’s not sleeping in the bed at night,” he says, side-eyeing Cupcake with disdain. The creature doesn’t seem to mind, what with how infatuated it is with rubbing against Arashi at every single turn. “Gross. Ah, Yuukun, we’ll be back in a bit. Try to get some sleep again, without Emperors interrupting this time.”

 

Makoto tries to cover a yawn, and fails horribly, flopping down onto his side. “Sorry to be a party-murderer,” he says drowsily. “Don’t take too long, and wake me in the morning. Otherwise I’ll…sleep all…” His soft snore echoes through the room before Arashi snorts, grabbing Izumi’s hand to tug him out of the room, opening and shutting the great door with ease.

 

“Everyone around here is so…serious,” Arashi whispers, eyeing a couple of broad-shouldered, heavily-bearded men as they pass. “And, you know, kind of…what’s the word…”

 

“Hideous?” Izumi hisses underneath his breath, clinging to Arashi’s hand. He’s exceedingly grateful that he has someone _else_ to grab onto, because as lovely as Makoto is, he’s not anywhere near the hurricane force of a person that is _Arashi_. “Don’t ever let me leave again. Tie me to your hip or something. I’ll die in this kind of atmosphere, I need beauty.”

 

“Ah, but there’s all this…nice…ice,” Arashi says lamely, trying not to giggle until they’re out of the Keep, squeezing Izumi’s hand right back. “Oh, is this allowed, here? Or do we not care because everyone’s gone?”

 

“Remember that summer…oh, seven years back?” Izumi dryly says, lacing their fingers together more thoroughly. “When you and Mika came up here? Yeah, so does everyone else. Dayton’s being polite, but I think he wants to fight you for my affections.”

 

Arashi’s eyes glint. “Cool. Is he any good with a blade? That could be kind of fun, I’m just saying. Definitely more fun than scaling an ice mountain.”

 

“Stooop. Do not fight Dayton for my hand in marriage. If he kicks your ass, I’ll kill myself. He has a _beard_ , Arashi. And _chest hair._ ”

 

“But it sounds like so much fun,” Arashi protests. “I won’t lose, that’s so rude! And if I do, you can braid his chest hair.”

 

Izumi gags. “I’m going to puke on you,” he threatens. “Right on those polished boots. I’m hungry, but I’m not _that_ hungry. Okay, I am, and I absolutely considered it and might have flirted with him when I was half-asleep and delirious, but only because I think I freak Yuukun out when I come onto him.”

 

“Hey, what’s wrong with a little, mm, thicker meat?” Arashi teases, poking Izumi in the side. “So, are you going to have to marry him now? Some kind of rite of succession? He seemed pretty zeroed in.”

 

“ _You_ are as manly as I am interested in, thanks, and that should tell you something,” Izumi growls, swatting at Arashi’s hands. Cupcake trots through the iced over snow before disappearing into a bank of it, flopping tail following suit. “I definitely do not have to marry him. And I wouldn’t, besides. I think I’ve actually become _less_ attracted to masculinity as time as has passed; I blame Shu. I’ve spent a great deal of my time recently with my tongue down his throat, if you’d believe it.”

 

“Not only do I believe it, I seriously want to watch it sometime,” Arashi says with a leer. “That’s the prettiest sounding thing I’ve heard in a long time. He always smells so good, but he’s a little, ah, breakable, for me. Aww, look at him go, I think he’s happy in this weather. See, they’re really dangerous up in the Sharps, I figured…”

 

He trails off, eyes suddenly misty as they walk, boots crunching down through the snow. “Things were so stupid back then,” he says abruptly, “but they were so good, too. I thought nothing could be worse than having Mika with me all the time, under my command, but not being able to touch him. God, you were such an arrogant little prick when I first saw you in that courtroom.”

 

“I’m still an arrogant little prick,” Izumi snidely retorts, yanking his cloak more securely about his shoulders as he watches the snog bound through snow as easily as any Northern horse could. Which reminds him—“I miss riding normal horses,” he says suddenly. “So _fucking_ much. I know Leo says Vale is happy in retirement in the Capital, but I call bullshit. Demon horses are mean and I really hate that they’re carnivores. Ah, look up. That’s a Watcher.”

 

In the grey sky, the enormous bird circles slowly, raggedly feathered wings beating occasionally as it surveys over the land. “I’d never seen one before,” Izumi admits. “They cast a human-like shadow, too, when the light’s right. Fucking creepy, right? Let’s go back to talking about how good Shu smells.”

 

Arashi shudders, looking at that shadow as if it’s about to try to consume him. “The North is creepy,” he mutters, pulling his cloak more tightly around his shoulders. “How does Shu get that scent? Is it a bath product, or an oil or something? I’d think it had something to do with the flowers Rei’s always growing him, but he smells like that when they’re apart, too. In all the times he worked for me, I never saw him put lotion on.”

 

“Those things aren’t normally in the North! My country’s beautiful, be nice,” Izumi grouses, trudging forward through the snow as Cupcake continues to more or less blaze a path for them with that swishy tail of his. That’s helpful, at least. “Maybe it’s a glamour or something. You would’ve died—I told him I wanted him to boss me around and that I’d be his sex slave, and the _face_ he made…”

 

Arashi barks out a laugh. “Isn’t he, like, the world’s biggest bottom? How are you two even supposed to function together?”

 

He grabs Izumi around the waist, yanking him close, and breathes in his ear, “That wizard can’t be taking care of you properly,” his voice low, heated. “Get us a room together alone tonight. I’ll have you so hard you won’t be able to get your heels down below your ears for hours.”

 

Izumi’s mouth goes dry, his knees buckle, and it’s a miracle he doesn’t hit the ground even with Arashi holding him up, what with how all of his bones melt. This is ideal—melting into Arashi feels _right_ , feels _familiar_ , and the flush of arousal that immediately colors his cheeks is tell-tale. “ _That’s_ the private room,” he groans, grabbing at the front of Arashi’s shirt. “The one we were in. Fuck, I _guess_ we could hide in the cellars, like when I was a fucking _kid_ …fuck me over a sack of flour, I don’t care, I’m _dying_.”

 

“Maybe I should just take you out here,” Arashi challenges, though the idea of exposing any of his parts to the biting wind and chill of the outdoors makes him rethink that really quickly. “…Can’t you send that wizard kid away? Or let him watch, we’re both pretty, I love being watched. It’s that or flour.”

 

“You’re going to freeze your dick off if we do it out here,” Izumi whines, eagerly stretching up onto the balls of his feet, “and I need you to _use it_ , not destroy it. If we went back in quietly, I doubt we’d even wake him up…and if we did, he’d probably just jerk off…but let it be known that I do _not_ mind flour, or whatever else is down there. Lumpy potato bags might be a stretch though.”

 

“I think I’d have you even if my back were against a bed of nails,” Arashi admits, his hands digging into the curve of Izumi’s ass, or as much as he can see of it beneath all their furs. “Shit, shit. Is it all right? Your magic seal or whatever, is it…I mean, I’ve broken that exact law before, also up here, so I don’t _really_ care, but I don’t want to mess you up.”

 

Izumi exhales a breath that comes out hot and white in the freezing air, his head thunking down against Arashi’s shoulder. “Yuukun can fix it later, if it starts fraying,” he says, his voice hoarse. “I _have_ to feed either way, so it’s stupid to talk about not doing it at all. Fuck, now I’m _so_ hard, I haaate you. I was going to actually show you those fucking glaciers, damn it.”

 

Arashi looks around, then raises an eyebrow. “I can reach a hand under all of that, maybe? I _do_ want to see the glacier, and your wizard looked exhausted. Handie now and the rest later?”

 

“As long as you don’t wipe your hand on my cloak, Shu made it and it’s _nice_ ,” Izumi mutters, arms latched firmly about Arashi’s neck. “One question, though.”

 

“Mm?” Arashi turns them, shoving Izumi’s back into a stone outcropping, his hand already tugging its way through layers. “What question, love?”

 

Words jumble up in Izumi’s head. “I—ah—um—“ He fumbles, clinging to Arashi’s shoulders for a moment before he forces himself to hop up, thighs clamping their way around Arashi’s waist like two puzzle pieces fitting together. The stone and ice is cold against his back, but to him, it’s comfortable instead of searingly uncomfortable. “I just—wanted to know if you’ve fucked Leo, while I’m away,” he admits with a breathless laugh. “Either answer is good. Fuck, _you_ smell good…”

 

Arashi grins, and finally finds the last layer of clothing, thrusting his hand in to wrap around Izumi’s familiar length. It’s hot and thick and so _familiar_ that Arashi groans, pressing a hot, wet kiss to the side of Izumi’s neck. “Yeah,” he admits, teeth grazing the skin. “Just a couple times. When he asked for it. He gets _so_ worked up, you know…the first time, it was because he was about to ride out to the Academy to climb in through your window. I had to distract him somehow.”

 

Izumi melts back with a low, throaty groan, his head rolling back as his hips thrust up against Arashi’s hand. He can imagine each familiar callous through the leather of Arashi’s gloves, but like this, it’s almost better, still taunting him for what will happen later when they’re alone, warm, and completely stripped down. “Let him show up next time, I’m soo horny all the time,” he gasps, his fingers bunching up against Arashi’s back, fisting into the layers of fur and clinging there as he ruts against Arashi’s hand. “Ritsu shows up—sometimes—but it’s not…not enough, and Shu won’t _fuck me_ , I miss you, I miss you so _much_ …”

 

“I miss you, too.” Arashi’s voice comes out in a rush, hungry and needy and ready to throw Izumi _through_ the nearest wall. He’d been a little afraid, at first, that Izumi would only want to talk about Leo the whole time. That would have been fun, but this is better, with Izumi hungry for just _him_. “I want to make you scream into a sack of flour,” he groans, tightening his gloved fingers, movements urgent. “Then anyone who thinks they’re good enough will know what’s required of them, hmm? That they have to make their prince scream for hours, how does that sound?”

 

Izumi arches up with a gasp and a ragged cry, not even bothering to clamp a hand over his mouth or bite into something when there’s no one around to overhear them, anyway. He comes hard, spilling with a desperate jerk of his hips, his cock pulsing in Arashi’s grasp, hot and aching and with his thighs now trembling as they clamp about Arashi’s hips. “Fuuuck,” he moans, his fingers shaking as he tries to maintain his grip. “Fuck…f-fuck, this is…kinda our tradition up here now, isn’t it? You shove me into the nearest wall, jerk me off, make me a wobbly fucking mess…gods, _please_ fuck me into a sack of flour.”

 

Arashi slowly withdraws his gloved hand, holding his leather-clad fingers to Izumi’s lips, all dripping and sticky. “I will, I can promise you that,” he says lowly. “And if you want, I can tell you more stories about your king, and how much of a slut he can be when you’re gone…or I can just spoil you. _After_ the glacier.”

 

Izumi’s eyes flutter as he leans forward, teeth catching against the tip of Arashi’s finger before he sucks one into his mouth, licking it clean with a thorough lave of his tongue. “Maybe both,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue up a second finger with a shudder. “But spoil me first, I deserve it.”

 

“You do, darling, you so do,” Arashi assures him, stroking his hair. “You deserve every part of it, I’m sorry I snapped earlier. I was upset, not mad at you.” _I should have asked you to marry me when I had the chance,_ he nearly says, as he’s nearly said it a dozen times in the last five years, and always been able to stop himself from doing.

 

“I know.” Izumi cracks a smile, and presses a last kiss to Arashi’s gloved hand before leaning up to kiss him on the mouth instead. “Sorry for…being me, I guess. I know I’m trying to dive in too fast, but I feel like if I’m not in a hurry, I’m fucking up even more. I hate not being able to fix everything _right now._ ”

 

Arashi tugs a strand of Izumi’s hair, then tugs him up by the hand, following in the pinprick-small footprints of Cupcake the Snog. “So let’s go find them, yeah? I’m in just as much of a hurry, those boogers are my nieces.”

 

Tears prick at Izumi’s eyes, and he blinks rapidly at the sting of them. “Don’t talk about them, I’ll get upset and tears freeze fast out here,” Izumi mutters, slapping at Arashi’s arm. “I don’t like thinking about them all alone out there. My mother will kick everything’s ass, but my kids…”

 

“Kinsley is old enough to kick ass on her own,” Arashi says gently, picking up his feet high each time, grimacing as his thighs start to complain from the weird motion. “And Elia will follow her lead, you know that.”

 

“They got kidnapped by drakes, Arashi. Kinsley’s about as old as my mother was when that happened.”

 

“Eh? What do you—“

 

Arashi’s mouth shuts, and his eyes go wide as his stomach sinks. Wordlessly, he starts walking faster, feet crunching in the snow as he lengthens his strides.

 

“Exactly,” Izumi mutters, lengthening his own strides to follow in the pathway that Arashi churns up. “I’d like to not have that be a family tradition. Anyway,” he briskly transitions, grabbing at the back of Arashi’s cloak. “The snog seems to be heading the right way. Past the treeline, there? That’s where the glacier hills start. I told you it was close. These are the smaller ones, but you can still get an idea.”

 

“It takes so fucking long to walk in this snow,” Arashi grumbles, sweating so hard he feels the desire to take off his coat, though he knows better than to do that. Twenty more steps, and he forgets, stripping off that thick fur coat, tossing it down into the snow. “Remind me to get that on the way back.”

 

“It’ll be gone,” Izumi says with a roll of his eyes, scooping it up and throwing it over his shoulder. “And you’re going to die. Put it back on, I’ll lick the sweat off you later.”

 

“But I’m hot,” Arashi complains, though he shrugs the coat back on, and just in time, for a few minutes later, snow starts to fall in thick, fat flakes. Once they get to the treeline, the wind starts to pick up, blurring the flakes around, stinging Arashi’s eyes, forcing him to keep a hand at his face to protect it. “I can’t see,” he calls, blinking rapidly. “Is this weather normal? It came out of nowhere!”

 

“This is winter up here.Here, I’ll go in front, I can see, just hold onto my cloak.”

 

Izumi trudges up ahead of him, pushing the end of his cloak into Arashi’s hand when it’s apparent how little Arashi can really see, and strides ahead, leading the way. The snow continues falling just as fast, just as hard, and once past the treeline, there’s nothing to even block it, which makes it even more obnoxious. “So much for being able to show you this mess,” he calls back, and turns around, grabbing Arashi’s hand. “Do you want to go back? It’s really easy to get disoriented out here.”

 

Arashi hesitates. “We’re not going to be able to do anything today, are we?” he asks, sounding defeated. “Even if we could see it. How long do storms like this last?”

 

“It completely depends,” Izumi admits, and jumps when something nudges at his leg. It’s Cupcake, climbing up his leg, and Izumi grimaces, hoisting the thing up to thrust it against Arashi’s chest. “It could be a day, or it could be a week.”

 

Arashi takes the snog, wrapping his outer cloak around it. “Aw, you cold? Come in, come in. Ugh, what if it’s a long one? Can we still climb up there in this? We’ve got to get to them, maybe there’s something the wizard can do? Like, banish it?”

 

“Wizards have surprisingly little control over the weather, and typically just make it worse,” Izumi says with a sigh. “We can try to climb it, but you can’t even see your hand in front of your face.”

 

Arashi huffs. “How far is this glacier from the one where the drakes are? Is it possible they’re still traveling, and not back there yet?”

 

“I have no idea if they’re there yet,” Izumi says, wiping a frustrated hand down his face that dislodges the ice that starts trying to cling to his eyelashes. “But I do know it’s easily a week’s travel during the summer—in winter, maybe a month? The North is _big_. Come on, we need to start walking back. I’m going to pick Makoto’s brain about a few spells when he wakes up.”

 

Arashi stumbles in the steadily-rising snow, squinting as the tracks in front of them start disappearing, Sena already wiped out of the horizon. “What the fuck…it can’t be more. than a thirty minute walk, where did it go? Shit, this stings, how are you supposed to move in this?”

 

“Just keep moving,” Izumi firmly says, holding tight to Arashi’s hand now to pull him along, surefooted in the show as any Northern horse. It takes effort when he’s pulling someone else along with him, but it isn’t like it’s the first time he’s done it. “This isn’t the worst of it. This happens every other week up here in winter,” he tosses back. “Sometimes, it’s so bad that it nearly covers the houses. Just shut your eyes and cover your face, I can get us back.”

 

All of Arashi’s grand ideas about scaling the glaciers with nothing but his gloves and his snog evaporate, and he follows dumbly in Izumi’s wake, stomping through the snow. “I didn’t get it,” he admits, once the ground underneath them starts to level off. “I thought everyone was being dramatic about winter.”

 

“Yeah, that happens,” Izumi wryly says, and five minutes later, the snow is at least shallow enough underfoot that guiding Arashi becomes much easier. “I grew up in this, but even I’m an anomaly to being able to handle it. I forget that sometimes.”

 

The overhang of the Keep looms ahead, much clearer as the snow starts to slow. “Here, it’s clearer back this way. Can you feel your fingers all right?”

 

“My fingers are fine,” Arashi assures him, squeezing Izumi’s hand back in proof. “I’m pretty hardy with cold, you know? It’s just…ugh, I feel like I can’t move, this is the worst? My eyes hurt, I didn’t know eyes could hurt…”

 

“That’s how most people die out here,” Izumi says, blinking a few times to clear the ice from his own eyelids again. “They don’t realize how bad it is, and then end up stuck because they just can’t _move_. Here, here, into the alcove, shake it off, put that stupid snog down.”

 

“No, he’s chilly,” Arashi protests, cuddling Cupcake to his chest. He’s shivering uncontrollably, knees wobbling like jelly, slumping down against the wall, gasping for air. “It’s—it’s like my lungs even locked up, the wind is like _knives_ , I’m usually pretty hardy!”

 

Izumi’s mouth twists, and he shimmies underneath one of Arashi’s arms, getting it around his shoulders to bodily drag him back into the Keep. “It’s warm in here, idiot, remember how to breathe for me, would you?” _So much for going further North._

 

“S-stop laughing at me,” Arashi groans, his limbs slowly starting to thaw. “B-bastard.”

 

“Winter’s nothin’ to laugh at,” Dayton says gruffly. “Nothin’ at all. Majesty, there’s hot mead, come have a mug with the men.”

 

“I’m not laughing! All right, I am, a little,” Izumi snorts, plucking off his own cloak and tucking it around Arashi. “Dumbass,” he murmurs. “Warm up, don’t make me do it for you. Do you want a drink?”

 

“Gods, yes.” Arashi grabs the mead as if it’s the only thing keeping him alive, cuddling firmly around it as he drinks. Slowly, the warmth from the enormous fires and the hot drink start to relax him, and his limbs stop shaking. He strokes Cupcake’s snout absently then shakes his head. “That’s awful,” he says bluntly. “You’re all insane for living where there’s weather like this.”

 

Cupcake gurgles, low and weird and sort of menacing, Izumi thinks, as he snuggles further against Arashi’s side. “I don’t know—I much prefer this to the Sandlands. Heat like that makes me want to die,” Izumi says, dropping down next to him, barely looking as if the cold has touched him. “I start melting.”

 

Dayton grins, passing over another mug. The mood in the Keep is still somber, and his cheer looks a little forced. “That’s our King. Ice runs in your veins, Majesty. Just like the Northern kings of old.”

 

Izumi’s own expression is less than enthused, but he takes the mug all the same. “Too bad it’s just me that’s like that. The chance of getting up past the glaciers right now…” He trails off, annoyed, and drinks.

 

“The only good thing about this,” one man says suddenly, a dark-bearded, older man called Tarlon, “is that next summer, we’ll have more immortal kids ready to scale glaciers with their bare hands. We’ll be a gods-damned army to be reckoned with, even from those bastards in the Capital.”

 

“Shut your fucking mouth,” one man snarls, standing so fast his chair falls over backwards. “My wife is out there!”

 

“So’s mine!” Tarlon roars, standing up to face him, face red. “And my daughter, and her two girls! Is it better to think of them bein’ tortured all fucking winter?”

 

“No, but thinking of it like that is something you can keep to yourself,” Izumi sharply interrupts, not an ounce of humor in his voice. “We aren’t striving to build an army of bastards here, and lest you forget, talking about the Capital like that is treason, so shut your mouth.”

 

“Where are they, then?” Tarlon demands, his blood up, swaying slightly on his feet, eyes focusing, then unfocusing. “Where’s the Capital in our time of need? We send our men off to die in their swamps and deserts, but if all of us die, no one gives a shit!”

 

Dayton stands, slapping a hand on Tarlon’s shoulder, forcing him down in his chair. “You’re drunk, man,” he growls, low in his chest. “Speak to your king like that again, and I’ll toss you out to become a popsicle.”

 

Izumi doesn’t react except to throw back half of his mug in one long swallow. “If I thought Capital soldiers could’ve done something, they would’ve been here. Do you think it’s fine for more people to die just because we have? I don’t. Arashi, get up,” he says, climbing to his own feet. “We need to go talk and reevaluate our plans.”

 

Arashi stands, still holding Cupcake to his chest, setting down a now-empty mug. He casts Tarlon a glare as they leave the room, and he shuts the door behind them, giving a little grunt. It feels a lot heavier now. “Go sleep or something,” he says to Cupcake, then grabs Izumi and topples down to the pallet Izumi had been sleeping on, cuddling up to him. “Don’t feel good,” he mutters. “That’s a whole other kind of cold. Gets into your bones.”

 

“I know,” Izumi quietly says, wrapping his arms and legs about him before dragging up one of the heavy, if not kind of scratchy, blankets. “Cuddle up properly, I’ll warm you up. You just need to get your blood flowing properly again.”

 

Arashi fairly melts against Izumi, eyes closed, face smushed against his shoulder. “Your men are pretty unhappy,” he says softly. “I want to be able to tell them something.”

 

“Me too,” Izumi quietly says, nuzzling his face into Arashi’s hair. “I might have to go by myself after all. The idea of you dying out there makes _me_ want to die, and the storm out there is nowhere near as bad as it gets.”

 

“I found them.”

 

Makoto’s voice is hoarse, his eyes sunken as he emerges from the cocoon of blankets he’s been sequestered in. “Izumi. I found them. My…my head hurts.”

 

Izumi shoves himself up, dislodging himself from Arashi in a heartbeat. “I thought I told you to get some sleep, you idiot,” he scolds in a hiss, but his expression is eager, and his hands immediately reach out to crush Makoto in a hug. “Where? As far as we thought? Tell me, please.”

 

“There’s tunnels, Izumi.” Makoto can hardly speak, voice shaking, feeling as if he’ll never be able to scrub that much magic out of his mind. “They go all the way under the glaciers, _all_ the glaciers. Even under Sena. That’s how they’re moving around, not overland.”

 

“…Tunnels,” Izumi echoes, sitting back with his hands still on Makoto’s shoulders, blinking back at him. “Then—where? Where can I get access to them? Did you see that?”

 

Makoto shakes his head, eyes shaking side to side, pupils expanding and contracting before he squeezes them shut. “There’s an entrance, it’s close to here. I, I think it’s closer than Avalanche Valley, maybe on the Eastern side of the hills? They’ve got all the women and, and I saw your children. They’re still moving with them, walking North.”

 

Izumi holds his breath for a moment, resisting the urge to leap to his feet and immediately head that way. His fingers squeeze Makoto’s shoulders again. “Good—that’s good. Thank you, you did well, you did _everything_ perfectly, please try to rest now, I can do the rest from here, I’m sure of it.” Izumi turns around, looking back over to Arashi. “You hear that? As soon as the storm clears out, we can go. _This_ we can make work, don’t you think?”

 

Arashi sighs in relief, and before he can breathe in again, passes out from utter bodily exhaustion.

 

Makoto smiles, keeping his eyes closed. “I remember how much it hurts after, to be out in a storm like that. Do you mind if I just…sort of…” he slumps down, as if he’s made of liquid.

 

“Both of you,” Izumi mutters, shaking his head as he drags Makoto over to his bed, wrapping him up in a bundle of blankets before flopping down between both of them. He still feels like he’s vibrating, ready to go, _needing_ to go—but a couple of hours of rest can’t hurt.

 

Cupcake slowly wriggles his way up against Arashi’s back, more or less spooning him, and looking entirely too happy about it. “At least someone’s happy,” Izumi mutters, and shuts his eyes.

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

“It’s not often that noblemen bloom; the last I recall was that Himemiya boy, and, well, the special treatment _he_ received…”

 

Izumi can feel his eyes nearly roll out of his skull. “He was a boy that had absolutely nothing to do with his house, and barely even knew how to spell his family name. I think my circumstances are a _bit_ different.”

 

The Emperor, at least, is a fairly reasonable man that understands the need to stay in touch with one’s noble house, even if he doesn’t want to do it himself. That is how, ultimately, Izumi’s mother makes her way down from the North, a procession that Izumi can’t say he’s exactly _pleased_ to see, if only because he knows his mother’s views on coming South for _any_ reason.

 

“No weapons within the Academy,” Rei reminds him—which prevents his mother’s guard from doing much other than lingering outside of the Academy’s front gates. Izumi waits. None of this is ideal—hopefully, his mother will take that under consideration.

 

“So, this is the hole they’ve given you to die in.”

 

Sena Maya surveys the Academy with her hands on her hips, eyes sharp as she gazes around, finally letting them linger on her only son. “This isn’t quite as terrible as I’d imagined. I suppose you being here for a few months won’t be the end of the North as we know it.”

 

“They haven’t brought me here to die,” Izumi patiently says, rising to step over to his mother, who looks as fierce and put out about the world as ever. “That’s not how it works. Believe me, I don’t want to be here anymore than you want me to be. I’ve missed you, Mama.”

 

The tough exterior melts, and Maya rushes forward, engulfing him in a hug so strong his ribs creak. “Oh, my boy. When I heard about the Sandlands…I feared the worst. Why didn’t you send a messenger? I had to hear it from some _wizard?_ ”

 

“Because believe it or not, your son has been more or less unconscious for the past month,” Izumi grunts, effectively squashed in her arms. Her embrace is enough to make tears prick to his eyes, and Izumi sucks in a sharp breath, his own arms coming around her to squeeze back. “As soon as I could, I asked for you,” he quietly says. “I’m sorry. The Sandlands really are cursed, I think.”

 

“The only good thing about them is that sweet boy of yours,” she says firmly, face buried in his hair. “Do you both a favor, bring the dark one and the red one and the golden one too, bring them all up North for a while.”

 

“I can’t leave for awhile, Mama, or I would,” Izumi softly says, drawing back and gripping her arms. “I wish I could. If you ask me, this wizard crap is just that—crap. I didn’t train for years to have to train for another thing, you know? But they won’t hear it, so—you’ll have to put up with me being here for a bit. At least it’s closer than the Capital, even if it’s only by a day or two.”

 

“I hope they don’t think they can force you to give up your land and titles,” she says, taking his face in her hands, squeezing his cheeks. “I’ll steal you back right now if they do.”

 

“I don’t think that’s a law anymore—and even if it was, the king would have something to say about it,” Izumi snorts, gently slapping her hands away. “I’m still your son and heir. Now tell me about the North so I can stop being worried all the time.”

 

She folds her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow. “I am the Lady of the Northern Dominance. Am I to be received in a drafty, boring foyer? Where are your chambers?”

 

Izumi heaves a sigh. “Nonwizards…aren’t allowed to be further than this, unless they’re seeing the Emperor,” he admits, reaching for her hands. “There’s a sitting room, at least. I know, I know, don’t scold me, I didn’t invent this stupid policy or any of this stupid place.”

 

Maya mutters something under her breath that sounds like she’s invoking Old Gods from times long past, in more of a curse than a blessing. “Take me to this…sitting room, then. And I’ll judge it.”

 

“Please do not curse the Emperor…in his own home,” Izumi tiredly says, guiding her along through a short hall, then to the sitting room in question. “You’ve become very particular in your old age, Mama. Do your men tell you that?”

 

“No, they tell me they miss when my beautiful young son was leading them,” she returns immediately, and gives him a smile. “And they tell me they love you for sending them the girls.”

 

“I seriously doubt they tell you that,” Izumi says, guiding her to a well-stuffed chair and sitting down across from her. “Well, the former—not the latter. Anyone would be grateful for those girls. I assume they’re doing well?”

 

“You should come see them,” she says immediately, sitting slowly, sinking down into the chair, sitting upon it as if it’s a throne. “They miss you. Kinsley has developed a taste for using a spear, she’s already the best ice-fisher of any under twenty in the North. Maybe because she’s like as not to jump in after the fish if she doesn’t catch one. Elia, you’ll need to build a fence around her before long, I’ve already had nine suits for her hand. Twenty for Kinsley.”

 

“Good, give me the names of those men, I’ll make them fight me to the death.”

 

“You wouldn’t need the names if you were at home, with your family. Are you planning to keep them celibate all their lives?” She raises an eyebrow. “How would that have worked if I’d tried it with you? They’ve got the blood too, you know.”

 

“I don’t know how to else to explain to you that I’m not _allowed_ to leave,” Izumi irritably snaps, leaning forward. “Besides, it was a joke, _Mother._ I can’t die, that’s the punchline.”

 

Maya’s eyes narrow. “You make a lot of jokes about how much you dislike your own people, child. Do it again and I’ll take your inheritance and give it to Kinsley. Maybe we aren’t as fancy as the perfumed lords and ladies down here, and maybe our men have full beards and don’t fall down if you breathe on them sideways, but they’re good people, they’re _your_ people, and I won’t give them to you if you won’t fight for them.”

 

“Why are you hassling me about this now? Do you think I _want_ to be locked up in this place?” Izumi growls. “I know they’re my people. I would be with them now if I was needed. Have you come to me to tell me that I should be traveling North as we speak because of some great need? What do you need me to fight?”

 

“I’m telling you, every time I mention your people all you can say is that they’re ugly, they’re fat, they’re not good enough for your daughters, they’re not as good as your precious Southern lovers.” Her lips purse unhappily. “Do you talk about your people like that when I’m not here? To these soft Southerners who don’t know anything about our struggles? About how hard we work to carve a living from the ice, to keep this place free from the Shadowlands?”

 

“What have I said today that any man wouldn’t say about his daughters? I didn’t criticize our men, I just said I wanted to fight them, you’re putting words in my mouth,” Izumi snaps, folding his arms tightly across his chest. “It almost sounds like you _want_ me to hate the North so you can be rid of me. I’ll have you know, I defend our land and name every chance I have. Otherwise, we’d be _nothing_ in the Capital.”

 

She throws up her hands, slapping them down on her thighs. “Well! Thank the Cold Ones that we have _you_ , you’re the only thing that’s ever made the North anything, eh? Before Lord Izumi, there might as well not have been a North! Good thing you’re my only son and heir, eh? You can speak to me when you don’t slander good men of the North who have the bad taste to ask you for a kiss, the way you _talk_ to them, honestly…”

 

“Fucking hell, is this about Dayton _again?_ ” Izumi exasperatedly snaps back. “I’ve told you a dozen times, I don’t want to marry him! If you like him so much, you marry him!”

 

“You think the men don’t talk up there? And the women too?” she demands, eyes flashing. “They say you think you’re too good for them, that you scorn them, you think you deserve better, then you parade your Southern boys in front of them, like you’re showing off what you think all of them should try to be. They need a leader that _loves them_ , son. Not one who wants them to be like other people.”

 

“What would you have me do, then? Suddenly develop an affinity for fucking enormous hairy men?” Izumi shoves himself to his feet, too restless to remain seated. “I love my people, Mother, but I’m not going to say that I want to marry one of them or be in their bed if I don’t have to! I don’t see what’s so damned wrong with wanting to fuck who I’m actually interested in—wouldn’t it be worse if I faked it and led him on? Or is this just the tip of the iceberg to you? What do you _want_ from me?”

 

“I want you to swear you’ll come home!” Maya squeezes her own thighs, inhaling and exhaling deeply, trying to calm herself. “I wasn’t going to say anything today. And I only want you to fuck someone you love. But you haven’t been home in years. You didn’t _ask_ before taking a position in the Kingsguard, even though it’s supposed to be a lifelong position. You didn’t arrange another heir before you stopped coming home for years at a time. And when I asked you if you wanted me to train Kinsley, you said you wanted her to have more choice, that she’d be better off ‘seeing what’s out there’ before she committed, like you’re so sure she’ll find something better than being _stuck_ in your homeland.”

 

Izumi exhales loudly, turning away to collect himself. “You _knew_ I was aiming to be on the Kingsguard,” he finally says, frustration still seeping through his voice. “You _knew_ I wanted to serve this king more than anything. I _swear_ I’ll come home, as soon as I can, but—Mama, he—he _proposed_ to me.”

 

Maya inhales deeply, eyes fixed on her son. “You told me that wasn’t possible in the Capitol. Were you lying, or have things changed?”

 

“He’s…he’s changed it. He wrote the law allowing it. Like he promised me he would.” Izumi swallows, and turns to partially face her again. “And he doesn’t have any heirs, so he’d claim mine. That means Kinsley and Elia would be princesses—one of them maybe Queen some day.”

 

Maya thins her lips, mind working furiously. “Why not tell me?” she asks at last, pained lines creasing the area around her eyes. “If this is true, wouldn’t you have told me right away? You told me there was almost an armed rebellion just because you were his lover, but now they’ll take you as his husband? I—love, I _want_ to believe this, I do.”

 

“Because a million other things happened, and I had to deal with everything else first, and—not for nothing, I _knew_ you’d come up with these exact reasons as to why it was a bad idea, and you’d try to talk me out of it!” Izumi throws himself back down into his chair, lower lip trembling. “It’s not fair—if I were a girl, you’d have married me off to him years ago. But like this, as a man—yes, the Capital hates me, what of it? They’ve hated me for years, they’ll keep hating me if I marry him or stay in the North! I’m…I’m used to it by now, so to hell with it.”

 

“But if you’re in the North, it won’t _matter_ what they think of you,” Maya insists. “Yes, if you were a girl, I’d have demanded he marry you years ago, but only because you love him, I think. So? Will you do it?”

 

“Considering I have to have my mother’s blessing, and I think it’s fairly apparent I don’t have it, I can’t answer that question,” Izumi stiffly says, looking pointedly to the side. “The reason I wanted to go to the Capital in the first place was to _prove_ how good the North was, you know. No one from the North has ever been in the Kingsguard—on the King’s _council_ —it’s no small wonder we’re forgotten and taken advantage of.”

 

“So you want my blessing.” Maya spreads her skirts, brushing them off. “To what? To marry the king? Or to abandon the North forever? Ask me properly.”

 

“Why does marrying him mean I’m abandoning the North?”

 

“You can’t be Lord of a Dominance _and_ Consort to the King,” she says, as gently as she can. “And you shouldn’t. Being in charge of the country means never favoring one Dominance over another. Being in charge of the North means you _only_ speak for us. Someone has to, as you said.”

 

“But the Capital doesn’t _need_ any more help—at least, not in the same way the North does. If I’m by the king’s side, aren’t I even more suited to speak for the North? Directly into his ear?”

 

“The North needs someone in the North. I won’t be around forever, I’ve no fancy blood in me, and I’m getting older.” She smoothes her hair back behind her ears, speckled with far more grey now than the last time they’d seen each other. “Down here, you’ll know nothing of the struggles our people face. And they will forget you, after a time.”

 

“Who’s to say I won’t be visiting? What’s wrong with having a regent? Mama, you’re not even that old, you’re just being dramatic,” Izumi says, exasperated. “But you clearly have opinions—what would you have me do, in your ideal world?”

 

“Come home,” she says promptly. “Bring whatever lover you’d like, marry him, raise your daughters, and speak for your people. Be an example to your freeholders and your steadfasters. Let me retire in peace, have a few bastards with local widows and lightskirts to raise our numbers. That’s my ideal world.”

 

Izumi’s lips purse, and his fingers drum irritably over his knees. “I’d have to give up my post—the post I fought and nearly died for. You’re also forgetting that I don’t fuck women anymore, and that my lovers include the king, and the Lord of the West, neither of which I can bring North.”

 

“I’m sorry that you can’t have everything,” she snaps, feeling suddenly weary, rubbing at her temples. “I’m sorry that polite society frowns on young men having three lovers. I’m sorry that you can’t be Queen and King and Lord and Wizard and Northerner and Kingsguard all at once. I’m sorry that I’m inconveniently mortal, I know your ideal world features me ruling the North for another several decades. I’m sorry that I apparently raised you to believe that you deserve every single damn thing you want, all at once, and that life is fair to everyone. Clearly, I’ve failed you.”

 

“You’re asking me to give up _everything_ , and you’re not even listening to a word I’m saying, besides!”

 

Izumi falls silent for a moment, stewing, teeth gritted. “It’s moot, anyway,” he mutters. “All of this talk. I’m stuck here for the next decade whether I like it or not, whether _you_ like it or not. You’ll have to deal with me ruling the North from afar all the same.”

 

Maya’s mouth opens in shock. “A—a decade? It can’t be. You’re already a man, surely they can’t keep you so long. What of your fine positions, what of your fine plans, your fine proposal?”

 

“Fucked, all of it. Yell in the Emperor’s ear if you don’t believe me. I’d rather kill myself than sit here on my ass twiddling my thumbs.”

 

Maya stands, adjusts her skirts, and nods to a door. “His room is this way?”

 

“I didn’t mean _literally_ —“ Izumi sighs, slumping back into his chair. “You’re not allowed back that way, but go on, it isn’t going to change anything.”

 

“Unlike that attitude, which I’m sure solves all problems,” she says with a snort. “You’re a fool, my boy. But you’re a good boy.” She pauses, hand on the door’s latch, and adds, “And for the record, you’ve got my blessing to marry that idiot redhead—as soon as you declare an heir to the North. That’s my one condition.”

 

“It’s not an attitude problem, Mama. It’s how wizards work, it’s the law.” Izumi’s mouth twists, and he looks away. “I’m not going to marry him. I just…wanted to see what you’d say.”

 

“Eh?” Maya’s hand flashes out, slapping him upside the head, no matter how far away she’d been a moment earlier, a mother’s prerogative to bend time and space. “You put me through all of that for nothing? Did I raise you so badly?”'

 

“It’s not like he didn’t ask me!” Izumi snaps out, rubbing at the side of his head. “And I haven’t _told him_ yet, but it’s…it’s _assumed_ , at this point, that it can’t happen.”

 

“What am I even supposed to do with you?” Maya demands. “Am I supposed to tell you all of my worries, knowing you’re holding information back to mock me? Or ask you for help, only to have you tell me right after that I’m being foolish, because you’ve solved it, only you wanted me to make an idiot of myself first? You love making a fool of your mother?”

 

“I’m not _mocking_ you! When have I told you that you’re an idiot? Damn it, I was _going_ to come home! I was sick and tired of the Capital, of the politics, of the _bullshit_ , but I stayed because I _loved him_ , and then he finally asked me to marry him and now I _can’t!_ I can’t be in the Capital with him _and_ I can’t go home—don’t you think I hate every bit of this as much as you do?”

 

Izumi twists away again, struggling to force his expression into something sullen and not just purely upset. “Go talk to the Emperor if you must. You’ll see. I’m scared for the North, too, and I wanted to go home, but he won’t let me.”

 

Maya hesitates a moment, then crushes Izumi in a fierce hug from behind, face tucked into the nape of his neck. “If you want to fuck off all of this nonsense,” she whispers, “just say the word. I’ll take you home, safe and sound, and no Emperor in his fancy castle will be able to pry you away. I swear you that. Any time this training is too long or stupid, you will _always_ be safe in my keep.”

 

“But our men won’t,” Izumi miserably replies, reaching up to grasp at his mother’s hands all the same. “If I’m untrained—my magic might do things that could hurt them. Or worse, it could attract things that could do even worse things. I wish they’d just rip it out, but they won’t.”

 

“That sounds like snog shit,” she mutters, squeezing him tighter. “Sounds like something a boring, lowland child would do with power all of a sudden. That’s not you. You’ve hidden your talents for so long, I’m sure you’d be better at it than most. Never mind, never mind, I’ll keep my tongue in my mouth, spare an old woman her pride in her son.”

 

“It’s not the same power that I grew up with, Mama. If it was, I doubt it’d be such a problem.”

 

Izumi twists in her arms, his head thunking down against her shoulder. “I don’t _want_ to be a wizard,” he mumbles. “I _want_ to hit things with a sword. I’m good at that.”

 

She presses a kiss to his forehead, then looks kindly down at him. “And I wanted to be a singer. Life changes us, doesn’t it?”

 

“This change means you won’t have a son to rule in the North. Don’t brush it aside so flippantly after scolding me for an hour.”

 

“Give me Kinsley, then.” She lets him go, then tousles his hair. “Declare for her. Or Elia, if you’re so set on Kinsley seeing the world. Give the people someone to believe in, if you’ll be gone at least ten years.”

 

“…I’ll think about it. And I’ll warn you in advance if I commit suicide.”

 

“Of course, of course,” she says, with the same benevolent smile she’s worn every day since hearing his first threat of such a thing, since her son was old enough to be bounced on her knee.

 

_I’m scared for the North, too._

 

And for good reason.

 

Izumi wakes to the cold Keep, his room’s fire turned to ash, and Arashi and Makoto alike shivering where they sandwich him.

 

He feels his bones creak as he rises, leaving a warm indentation onto the pallet that the two of them roll towards instinctively. He wraps himself up in his cloak as he slinks out of the room, unfazed by the cold, even as he blinks bleary-eyed at the sleeping masses of men about the Keep, huddled up in front of dying fires.

 

His mother really was right, wasn’t she? He’s always needed to be here, and to _stay_ here—or this is what happens. Izumi sighs, and crouches to stoke one of the fires before it can go completely out. His men might as well be warm now, before he starts to drag them out in the cold.

 

“It’s early still, Ma—Milord. You should be sleeping.”

 

Dayton’s bulk rises from the shadows, his voice a soft, lilting burr in the quiet morning. His shoulders are swathed with furs, blue eyes twinkling beneath shaggy dark hair, above a shaggy black beard. He walks close, standing a pace away from Izumi, tossing a thick cured log onto the fire. “There’ll be enough to do once the sun comes up.”

 

“Can’t sleep.” Izumi rocks back onto his heels where he crouches, glancing up through the sleep-mussed fall of his bangs. _I_ guess _I could get used to this,_ he begrudgingly thinks. That _has_ to be his lizard-brain hyperfocusing; Arashi’s promises not coming to fruition the night prior is…not helpful. “My wizard brought news late last night. Do you want to hear it?”

 

“Good news makes for good sleeps, so I don’t doubt it’s awful,” Dayton says with a half-shrug. “Go on, then. Did he find something bad, or nothing at all?”

 

“Any news makes me anxious, so…” Izumi shrugs as he straightens to his feet. “Privately? Unless you think you can keep your voice down and not wake the whole Keep.”

 

Dayton mutters a curse, then gestures with his chin. “There are a few private rooms left standing. I know the men in the eastern room are on watch tonight. Follow me, sir, if it please you.”

 

Izumi nods, shrugging up his cloak before following, carefully weaving around the sleeping bodies of men.

 

The door shuts behind them as they reach the room in question, and Izumi sags back against it, briefly shutting his eyes. “Makoto saw them,” he finally says. “He found out where they’re being taken, and how. Apparently, there are tunnels.”

 

Dayton’s eyes widen, and he bristles, fingers clearly itching to grab weapons. “We’ll go after them, then. Tunnels mean _not climbing the glaciers_. Every man jack’ll go, you know it. None of us is a coward.”

 

Izumi holds up a hand. “Understand my hesitation before you immediately decide you have to go. If we go, and drag them back—what then? We still run the risk of whatever else is out there killing them. The drakes obviously took them away for a reason. It might be best…if just a few of us go, and speak to them instead. If they intend to hurt our women and children, obviously, we can do something about that. If they _are_ protecting them, however, it might be better for them to stay put until we can take care of this threat.”

 

Dayton stares at him for a long moment, then subsides, leaning back against the wall. “It’s a good idea,” he admits, “but it’s dangerous. You’d think of going yourself, I’m sure, and I’ll not speak against it, but who rules in your stead? Someone’s got to protect those left behind, just in case.”

 

“You, obviously.” Izumi folds his arms over his chest, eyebrows raising. “You were already doing as much until I showed my pathetic face, weren’t you?”

 

“Milord!” Dayton’s face changes, into something like horror. “Milord, I’m going with you, no question!”

 

“I’ve noticed I’m only ‘Milord’ when you think it will please me and mine and you’re trying to get your way, and ‘Majesty’ when it suits you otherwise. You’re not coming with me.”

 

“I’m the strongest fighter you have, Milord or Majesty or whatever makes you see sense!”

 

“Which is why you’ll stay back here, and protect our people, and my wizard! I’ll be taking Arashi with me, and I trust him as much as I would you.”

 

Dayton grits his teeth, and smashes his fist into the nearest wall, and even the stone shivers from the force of it. Then, slowly, he draws his shoulders back, standing upright. “As his Majesty commands,” he says, only a hint of mockery in his little bow. “Watch your back. The yellow-haired one is too pretty.”

 

Izumi’s mouth twists. “Jealousy doesn’t become you,” he shortly says, fingers curling about the door’s handle. “If you have something to say, say it.”

 

“Aye, I will.” Dayton grins, his beard bristling, bloody knuckles dripping slowly to the floor. “He’s not taking care of you properly, Milord. Anyone can see that you’re…craving.”

 

“I don’t—what, do you watch me and take notes to figure out if I’m like a cat in heat?” Izumi incredulously shoots back, a flush rising to his cheeks in spite of himself. “Did it maybe occur to you that I have more to focus on than…than _that?_ Damn it. Give me your hand, you’ve undoubtedly broken _something._ ”

 

“Aye, I don’t always think before I speak or act,” Dayton agrees, holding out his hand. “I’ll just say what I told your mother, long ago. I wouldn’t mind if you found a pretty Southern lord, as long as he was good to you, as long as he was worthy of you. Not that I ever thought myself worthy of you or anything, I just…” A flush creeps up to the top of his beard, and he looks away. “Every man up here wants nothing but good things for you. You’re the hope of our Dominance.”

 

“A lot of good that’s done for you lot,” Izumi mutters, reaching out to close his fingers around Dayton’s hand, the low pulse of his magic piecing his hand back together carefully. “What other nonsense has my mother been breathing into your ear? I’m a fairly worthless son, if I’m to go by everything she’s told me.”

 

“Eh, my mother thinks I’m a great useless bastard, too,” Dayton says cheerfully, refusing to grit his teeth at the feel of his bones shifting around. “Not the same kind of bastard, of course. Just useless. Ahh, that’s better. Thank you, Milord.”

 

“Thank me by not punching walls. I don’t fancy wasting my energy on men that are otherwise healthy idiots,” Izumi grouses, releasing Dayton’s hand after another moment. “It’s not finite, you know. _Especially_ when you do it in some jealous fit. Real men—“ He cuts himself off, flustered, annoyed that he’s flustered. That’s definitely that shit lizard-brain. “Well, never mind.”

 

“Real men?” Dayton laughs, and reaches up, brushing his newly-healed fingertips under Izumi’s chin. “You sure you’ve ever known any?”

 

“Careful,” Izumi quietly says, his eyes lidding. “You’re talking shit about the King.”

 

Dayton inclines his head, then retracts his hand. “Well. Can’t blame a man for trying, when he sees someone so beautiful looking so…” He shrugs, with a little smile. “Or maybe you can blame a man for trying. Is that what you learn, down South?”

 

Izumi sags back with a scarcely suppressed groan. “In the South, I learned I can be much more subtle with men and still get laid,” he crossly says, in spite of all good sense. He’s lost his good sense. “Well—if you aren’t going to throw me around, I’ll go find someone who will. Don’t spread knowledge about those tunnels around, not until I’m gone and the men start asking about me.”

 

“Wait,” Dayton protests, and grabs Izumi by the shoulder, slamming him back against the wall. “Don’t leave without taking some of them, most of them even. You’ve never met a drake, not a real one.” His eyes flash with a deep hunger, but he steps back, nodding to the door. “Subtle I may not be, but I’ve never been accused of taking anyone to bed that didn’t want me. And I never will be. Good luck.”

 

Izumi swallows loudly, and says nothing as he fumbles for the door handle, yanks open the door, and leaves with only a huffy exhale of breath left in his wake.

 

His private room is just as he’d left it, and Izumi locks the door behind him before he shucks his cloak and clambers back into bed, immediately diving underneath the covers. “Wake up, or _I’ll_ wake you up,” Izumi mutters, mouth on Arashi’s neck as he wriggles up next to him and slides a hand directly down to his cock. “I’m _dying_ you ass, keep your promise.”

 

Arashi lets out a yelp, slapping frantically at Izumi’s hand, curling up on himself. “Your hand is _cold_ ,” he hisses, grabbing Izumi by the hair and yanking him away, just before crushing his mouth in a hard, possessive kiss. “You’ll pay for that,” he mutters against his mouth, shoving him down onto his back.

 

Izumi groans, melting immediately down and wrapping all four limbs against Arashi as his hips roll up against him. “So warm it up in me instead,” he breathes, his eyes lidded and glassy, need rolling off of him in waves as he clings to Arashi’s back. “I was good, I waited _all night_.”

 

“Your Dominance is awful,” Arashi groans, kicking Izumi’s legs apart, biting his neck, shoving him down into the bedroll. “Where’s the oil? You smell good, but I could spread you open like a ripe peach, doesn’t that sound nice?”

 

Izumi fumbles half-heartedly for his discarded belt from the night before, then rips a skin of oil off of it and thrusts it into Arashi’s grasp. His cock twitches with every word that leaves Arashi’s mouth, his toes curling as he feels Arashi’s own cock pressing and rubbing against him. “Fuck me until I pass out,” he rasps, breath hiccuping when Arashi bites at him. “And bite me again. Mark me up, I’ll make it stick.”

 

Arashi dumps a pulse of oil over his fingers, stuffing it as far inside Izumi as he can manage, cursing under his breath. “How long has it been, darling? How many months, without anyone—I can’t wait any longer, you get more pretty words later,” he mutters, thrusting in deep, burying his face in Izumi’s shoulder, biting the flesh there hard enough to bleed.

 

Izumi stuffs his own fist against his teeth, biting down hard to muffle the half-shriek, half-groan that escapes, low and throaty as he ruts down onto Arashi’s cock like he really is a stupid, horny cat in heat. The sound stays guttural and desperate as he clenches down, his eyes rolling back into his head as his thighs clamp about Arashi’s waist. “Fuck pretty words,” he whispers when he pulls his hand back from his own mouth. His fingers are red, his lips red, the sharp tips of his teeth red, all from his own blood, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care. “Fuck it—fuck _me_ , gods, your cock feels so _good_ …”

 

“Enjoy it,” Arashi breathes, one hand on Izumi’s shoulder, shoving him down, hand squeezing hard enough to leave bruises on any normal man, cock grinding in deep, harder with every thrust. “I see you loving it, tell me you love it, you can’t get off unless there’s a big cock in you, hmm? Fine Prince of the North, getting off on my big cock in his ass…”

 

Perhaps too late, Izumi clamps a hand back over his own mouth to muffle his cries and moans when he spills over his own stomach with another one, two thrusts. It does little to sate him or slow him down, considering he rides down just as hungrily, gasping and arching when Arashi’s cock strikes so deeply inside of him that it makes his cheeks color a deep pink, fingers trembling as they scrabble against Arashi’s back. “D…don’t…stop,” he pants out. “I f-fucking love it, you have the best cock, don’t stop, don’t stop…”

 

“This is what—what a real Northern man likes, hmm?” Arashi slams into Izumi without mercy, hands coming up to tweak his nipples, then down to squeeze his ass with strong hands, yanking him up and down with every thrust of his cock. “Don’t be shy, don’t be shy—let them hear how _good_ —the Lord of the West—is at making—you—beg—“

 

Never, _ever_ has Izumi been more grateful for Arashi’s stamina.

 

After so many weeks without—after so few things that were _almost_ enough but not quite—this is the first _proper_ fuck Izumi is sure he’s had in ages, and every thrust and shove of Arashi’s cock inside of him makes Izumi yelp and gasp, his legs trembling from the effort it takes to keep clinging to Arashi’s waist. He gives up after another moment, when he’s too tense, too overstimulated, and just lets his legs fall open, his nails clawing into Arashi’s back to keep hold of him _somehow_ when he’s fucked into the floor. “No one… _no one_ fucks m-me like you do,” he groans, his head lolling back, sweat dripping down from his hairline. “Fuuuck…fuck, Arashi, right there, right _there_ …” His voice trails off into a low, throaty rumble, obviously deeply _pleased_ when his hips grind down onto that thick cock.

 

“That’s _right_ no one does,” Arashi grunts, slamming in deep, forcing more squeaks and yelps out of Izumi’s throat, driving into him so hard his head falls over the edge of the bed, eyes alight as he does. Heat builds in him, urgency rising, liquid hunger racing up his spine with every hard thrust, until he’s buried in as deep as possible, teeth sinking in again, a primal growl rising from his throat as he spills in hard, hot pulses, deep into Izumi’s belly. “And no one…breeds you like me.”

 

Izumi doesn’t _feel_ himself come this time; he just knows it _must_ have happened, judging by the fresh, hot splatter mixing with the mess already on his stomach, and the way he shakes and shudders with every single breath as he clings to Arashi for dear life. Arashi’s words, his teeth in his neck, his cock in his ass, spreading him open and stuffing him _full_ —it leaves him gasping for a full breath, head and hair still tumbling off the side of the bed as he trembles no matter the sweat that drips from him head to toe. “You…have the best cock…in any Dominance, in _any_ fucking country,” he dreamily declares, hands sliding limply from Arashi’s back. “Why do you make me _work_ so hard for it, huh?”

 

“Uh…I was tired,” Arashi says, sweat beading his hairline even as he grins. “And I like to make you work for it, someone as pretty as you should have to, sometimes.”

 

“No,” Izumi immediately, brattily declares, encircling his arms around Arashi’s neck again to pull him down, even though it takes _effort_ to haul himself up when he feels limp and floppy and sated for the first time in years. “That’s mean. You know I’m the best fuck, you _know it_. You’re so fucking hot,” he mutters, surging up to kiss him. “And beautiful. And _not_ hairy, thank the bloody fucking gods…”

 

“Izumi,” Makoto’s voice wobbles, thready and exhausted, “Ah…I need to seal you again, immediately. I’ll bathe.”

 

Arashi shrugs, unconcerned. “Oops.”

 

“Hold off, I’m busy,” Izumi murmurs, nuzzling into Arashi’s neck again to breathe in his scent mixed with sweat and sex. “And you still sound exhausted. Arashiii, pet me, you’re nice and warm now, and I feel like a real person again…”

 

“I’ll do that as many times as I need to,” Arashi promises, though both of them know full well that he’ll break that promise, and quickly. “Mm, I forget how _nice_ it is to have you like that, when we’re both so worked up. It’s just so nice to not have to worry about hurting someone—you know what I mean, no offense.”

 

“Mmhm, I know. I love it when you throw me around and fuck me like you’re going to break me in two,” Izumi lowly breathes, kissing up behind Arashi’s ear as if that’ll do something. Maybe it will, maybe it won’t; worth a shot, and he’s now decidedly well-fed, so it doesn’t matter much either way. “I’ve been worked up since you sent me that letter. Fuck you, by the way, that was _not_ nice.”

 

Arashi blinks, faux-innocent as he nuzzles into Izumi’s kisses. “I thought I was being quite cute, sending you a letter. Am I not sweet?”

 

“No, you’re a hellbeast,” Izumi bemoans, flopping back down after another moment, his muscles giving out. “Pull me back on the bed properly, I’m tired of dangling. You made me so damned horny I almost climbed Dayton like a tree this morning.”

 

“Ooh, that’s a choice,” Arashi teases, yanking Izumi back into the bed. “Did you rile him up, then leave him…raising a proud flag? While you came to find me?”

 

“I don’t knooow, I didn’t exactly check,” Izumi groans, wincing as all of the shifting and moving makes Arashi slip out, and leaves him grumbling at the slick mess. “I told him I was taking you with me to the tunnels, he got pissed, punched a wall, and I told him jealousy wasn’t cute and a real man would—well. You know. Do something about it. He asked me if I’d ever had a real man before, which I’ll admit, was hot, but I’ll also admit I was too embarrassed by _thinking_ it was hot to even do anything about it myself. So here we are.” Izumi nuzzles up underneath Arashi’s chin. “My mother can never know I even considered it.”

 

“If you hadn’t come to the Capitol,” Arashi muses, stroking Izumi’s hair, rolling onto his side to better cuddle Izumi to his chest, “and you hadn’t met me and Leo, and you’d stayed up here…what do you think your life would have been like?”

 

“Considering I was a dreadful brat of a child and needed to get the piss knocked out of me, uhh…” Izumi snorts, snuggling up into Arashi’s chest firmly. He drags a blanket up and over them, just in case. “I would’ve just been another Northern hick lord, I guess. Not that I think going to the Capital’s made me better than my men or anything, ugh, I just…when you grow up here, everyone’s so set in their ways, and so superstitious, and so…” He trails off, frustrated. “Boring. You know what I mean.”

 

“I do,” Arashi says softly, burrowing down into that blanket immediately, though the only exposed part of himself is his cock, pressed against Izumi’s ass. “It was the same where I grew up. Mm, but I do think I’m better than most of the men I grew up with.”

 

“I mean, same,” Izumi lowly agrees, snuggling back against Arashi and contemplating the easiest way to get his dick hard again. It’s moot point, but it’s still nice to think about. “But…I don’t know. They’re still my people. I used to not…get it, and wanted nothing more than to be away from here. If this stupid wizard mess hadn’t happened—no, more like, if Leo hadn’t proposed to me, because my mother would’ve stolen me away, wizard or not—I think I would’ve fucked off from the Capital for good. It’s a lot, you know?”

 

“…Yeah.”

 

Arashi shuts his eyes, nuzzling into Izumi’s hair, breathing in the scent of him, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. “Neither of our proposals…exactly went the way we planned, huh? I should have just married you after all.”

 

“You still can, but I doubt you want to live up here,” Izumi wryly says, reaching down for one of Arashi’s hands. “Not after this mess.”

 

“More like, after seeing it in winter,” Arashi admits. “And you hate all my people, so I doubt we’d be happy there.”

 

“My mother wouldn’t allow it anyway. She barely considered the idea of me marrying the king.” Izumi tilts his head back, looking back at Arashi. “She wants me to marry a Northern man. Says then I’ll be able to go wherever I want, because a Northerner’s holding the fort down up here. Apparently, _that’s_ respectful to my people, but marrying the king—or you—and having more influence for the North in the Capital isn’t.”

 

Arashi shrugs. “I see where she’s coming from. If I found out the Regent I left in place when I went off to the Kingsguard had started living somewhere else, I’d fire him immediately, probably prosecute him. You can’t rule a place if you don’t live there.”

 

“I guess I just…figured it wouldn’t happen so soon, but I suppose I’m getting old, even if I don’t feel like it,” Izumi mutters. “It’s also hard to convince my mother that me being consort to the king is a good idea when he’s never even visited the North—so I didn’t really try. I told her I’m going to turn him down.”

 

“Bullshit you are.”

 

“I am. I promised her I would years ago.” Izumi swallows hard, shrugging in an attempt to mitigate the sudden, stressful rush of emotions. “It’s even more important that I do now—look at this place, look at what happens when I’m not here. I…I can’t be by the king’s side and rule this place, no matter how much I want to be there.”

 

“And the West is going to shit without me,” Arashi says bluntly. “We do what we have to, for our King. I named a Regent, you can, too. You think you could have fought all those shadow creatures by yourself?”

 

“My mother’s made herself very clear. The only Regent I’m allowed to name is a husband or wife, and they have to be Northern.” Frustration tinges his voice, and Izumi twists in Arashi’s arms, turning to face him. “I think I would’ve recognized them as shadow creatures and kept my men away, at the very least.”

 

“So?” Arashi asks, tracing a pattern on his arm, looking into his eyes. “What will you do, once we get them back? We will get them back, no matter what I have to do, I’ll promise that.”

 

Izumi’s mouth turns down as he glances away, his eyes lidded. “If I don’t come home, she’ll declare another heir—then I’m untitled, and I can’t marry the king, anyway,” he finally says. “Say what you will about my mother, but…when she wants something, she’ll get it, and she _does_ want me home. I can’t even say I don’t want to stay here. I know I haven’t been to the Capital in years, but…I bet it’s the same, isn’t it? I might _be_ a slut, but I get a little sick of having it yelled at me in council meetings.”

 

“It’s…worse, now,” Arashi admits, fingers walking up Izumi’s arm, then trailing down his back. “Remember, they all think I’m just like them, that I’m…like that man I was pretending to be, when you and I met. They’re not shy about stating their opinions, ugh.”

 

“Ah. So they must be thrilled that there’s a real man acting as Captain of the Kingsguard now, huh.”

 

“And they’re not shy about telling me that,” Arashi agrees sourly. “More than once, I’ve had to stop them from going too far about slandering the King by insulting you. It’s a nasty Boy’s Club now, if I hadn’t sworn to take the post for you, I’d have run away screaming to have my hair done a hundred times by now.”

 

“Your hair still looks good,” Izumi sympathetically says, reaching up to gently tug on a long, golden strand. “If you need to step down,” he quietly says, “I won’t fault you for it. Kuro’s there. I trust him.”

 

Arashi shrugs, looking uncomfortable to be talking so much about himself. “It’s fine. I don’t have much to go back to, with you in the Academy and Mika…also in the Academy.”

 

“Doesn’t mean you should have to suffer through that bullshit. I was hoping—“ Izumi’s mouth twists unhappily. “I was really, desperately hoping that…when Leo passed that law, it would be taken in the same way it’s taken up here, not with the Capital’s people acting like it’s an _insult_ to all marriage. It’s not like he can even drive the point home when I’m in the Academy; what’s the point of announcing an engagement to the Capital when I’m not there? I still wish Rei would rip my magic out and sell it to the highest bidder, if that’s even such a thing.”

 

“It’s not just you, you know,” Arashi says, ignoring that last complaint the way he always does, pressing an absent little kiss to Izumi’s shoulder. “They’re just being reactionary. Now that Leo passed the law, they have someone special to bitch about. It’s not mostly about you, that Sandlands prince scooped the king and took most of it on himself.”

 

“Excellent. More young, intelligent, beautiful men shunned and ostracized by society because they take male lovers,” Izumi wearily says, throwing himself more firmly into Arashi’s chest. “What will they do when they realize we’re _all_ like that? Everyone in power.”

 

“He didn’t take a lover,” Arashi says, toying with a strand of Izumi’s hair. “He took a husband. Quite the scandal, but they’re just turning up their noses, no one’s actually _doing_ anything, because the king sanctioned it. And they’ve got quite a bit of support among the younger set, our age or less. It’s just the mean old ones that are growling.”

 

“But you see, I’m very sick of mean old men growling at me,” Izumi whispers against Arashi’s chest. “I know that sounds pathetic. I know. But I’m good at what I do and I’m _very_ beautiful and I do not deserve being growled at just because I’m in bed with the king.”

 

“…sometimes I forget you grew up noble, with people that kept cruel whispers away from your ears,” Arashi says with a sigh, hugging Izumi close. “Then you say something sweet like that, and I remember.”

 

“Shut up.” Izumi buries his face firmly into Arashi’s chest all the same. “Not everyone can be a thick-skinned brute from the West. I don’t even know how you fake it, I’d rather die.”

 

“Uh, because I got beat for _not_ faking it every day when I was a kid,” Arashi says with a crooked smile. “By my father, more often than not. You know, I’m jealous of you, for not having to deal with that. Sorry, but it’s true.”

 

“I would’ve killed myself. Honestly, I would’ve. Look at me, I can’t hide anything like that.” Izumi bites down onto the curve of Arashi’s shoulder in frustration, then releases him with a huff of breath. “We should get going soon. Otherwise, we’ll never be able to leave without a herd of my men trailing behind.”

 

“We’re leaving without them?” Arashi asks, startled. “Just us? Against…how many drakes?”

 

“We’re not going to _fight_ them.”

 

Izumi slowly forces himself to sit up, untangling the now-useless tie from his thoroughly mussed hair. “We’re going to talk to them. If we show up with an army, that’s just going to piss them off, and I personally don’t want to fight a bunch of immortal creatures.”

 

“Ah, yeah. Me neither. Are you sure we can talk to them?” Arashi asks dubiously, shivering as he stands, rubbing briskly at his arms and legs. “I’ve never met a drake before, except you.”

 

“Neither have I,” Izumi wryly says, shaking out his hair before he fingercombs it back, and ties it. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to. My mother said…well, she’s said a lot of things, but she told me the drake that fathered me spoke the Common Tongue. I don’t know if it’s a rare thing or not, but what else am I going to do but try?” He pauses, then adds, “Ritsu said I’m a prince to them. Apparently I would’ve been a good match for him, if I wanted to live in the Shadowlands. Maybe that counts for something.”

 

“Marry the prince of the Shadowlands, marry the King, marry the Lord of the West,” Arashi says with a sigh, shrugging on leggings, stockings, thick woolen socks, trousers, a muffler, an undershirt, a shirt, an overshirt, a sweater, boots, a hat, and a thick, furred, hooded cloak. “You do have a lot of choices. Well, I can barely move, but at least I’m bloody warm.”

 

“Having options is certainly a good thing, isn’t it?” Izumi mildly says, shrugging on his own traveling clothes—far fewer layers, save for the heavy, furred cloak that he tosses about his shoulders. “You forgot Dayton. He’s a lord…sort of. You look like a pile of laundry.”

 

“A _warm_ pile of laundry.”

 

“We’re going to find the tunnels, and I’m going to laugh if they’re heated by the springs. Makoto? Did you fall back asleep?” Izumi idly asks, hopping out of bed and toeing on his boots.

 

Makoto gives off a huge, fake-sounding yawn, stretching out his arms and legs, looking over at them. “Oh, hello, are you awake? I hope I didn’t wake you with my snoring. Since I’ve been asleep until now.”

 

“Uh huh. Don’t worry about sealing me. I’d rather have access to my magic in this case, thanks.” Izumi bends down over him, eyebrows raised. “Was it good for you, too?”

 

Makoto’s eyes lid, and he nods shyly. “Y-yeah. Be safe, all right? And don’t forget, the entrance is between two dead rowans, just over Selwyn’s Crest. Then about three kilometers north through the tunnels. Don’t get lost, there isn’t much…down there.”

 

“I won’t forget. Thank you for working so hard—and get some _proper_ rest now, all right?” Izumi gives his hair an absent ruffle before he straightens, glancing over to Arashi. “You ready to brave the cold? And by that, I mean the cold, accusing stares of my men as we take the walk of shame to the front door?”

 

“You think you were that noisy?” Arashi asks with a laugh, wrapping an arm around Izumi’s waist. “Or is it just that you’re supposed to be the one laying your icy seed in me?”

 

“No one cares about that up here,” Izumi scoffs, but he leans into Arashi’s side all the same. “I _know_ I was that noisy. Your cock was in me, and I liked it.” 

 

“You’re talking really quietly for someone who isn’t embarrassed, sweetheart.”

 

“Fuck you, I’m not a lowborn mongrel like you.”

 

“Hey, I’m the Lord of my own very profitable Dominance, you’re just a trainee wizard.”

 

“I think we can all see that I’m defecting from the Academy, so I’ll accept my titles again, thank you. Want to know who else did that?”

 

“You don’t have a title yet,” Arashi reminds him. “Your mother is still Lady, so you’re just an heir. But go on, who else did that?”

 

“Our very own Emperor,” Izumi says rather than continue to argue with Arashi and potentially be proven wrong. He shoves open the door with some effort, growling about it along the way. “Perks of fucking his little brother—I hear about _all_ the shit Rei doesn’t tell anyone else.”

 

“I guess when you’re more powerful than everyone else,” Arashi says, amused, “you’re pretty much allowed to do what you want. That’s not surprising. Ugh, fuck, that wind is _awful_.”

 

“He never even _graduated_ , which means he’s an honorary Nightcloak, not an actually tested one. Shu doesn’t know, and I think that’s funny. Cover your face, imbecile, it’s not going to stay pretty unless you do,” Izumi grunts, kicking the door shut as he gathers his own cloak about himself. “I don’t want to kiss someone with frostbite.”

 

Arashi winds his scarf around his face, which lessens the chill quite a bit, though he still squints his eyes under his thick hood as he steps out into the wind, feeling it so strong he’s buffetted this way and that, no matter how strong his footing. “These tunnels better not be far,” he growls. “This is—so—fucking—awful—“

 

“Grab onto my cloak and I’ll drag your ass there,” Izumi says, swaying underneath the wind’s ebb and flow, but otherwise looking entirely unfazed by the cold. “It’s at least a half hour walk. Don’t quit on me, Captain.”

 

“Give me a proper mountain to climb,” Arashi complains, grabbing the end of Izumi’s cloak, stomping after him and not slowing him down, despite his protests. “Give me a proper grappling hook, give me a pair of spiked gloves, give me cleats, give me a good rope and my bare feet even, and I’ll go kiss the sky before nighttime.”

 

“The mountains might be your calling, but this, for better or for worse, is mine,” Izumi tosses back, striding straight through the piles of snow, swerving only when the wind topples his slight weight sideways. “See that pair of huge dead trees up ahead? Well, maybe you can’t, the snow’s too thick—but they’re definitely there. That’s where we’re headed.”

 

Arashi squints at the wind and snow, then shakes his head, clinging to the edge of Izumi’s cloak like it’s the only thing keeping him upright—and it sort of is. “I believe you,” he calls, head bowed down against the wind as they walk.

 

Between years and years of wading through ice and snow and his own natural inclinations, the ‘trek’ for Izumi is no more than what he used to do in the past as a child, being one of few capable of making it out to the stables in the dead of winter, or (as his mother always used to like telling the stories of) being the one to constantly scoop up animals left for dead in the enormous mounds of snow. The only indication that he’s as much as touched by the snow are his own flushed cheeks and nose as they crest one of the hills, where two enormous, dead-looking trees sway in the harsh winds. “You alive back there?” he calls, pulling off his hood to look back at Arashi. “The entrance is apparently…around here, somewhere. If I break a leg falling through a hole or something, I’m gonna be pissed.”

 

“Better you than me!” Arashi forces a smile, and even hums a tune as he stomps through the snow. “You know, it’s not even that cold? It’s just the fucking _wind_ , the wind is the problem. I’m, ah, it’s hard work on the thighs to keep raising your feet up so much, no wonder you’ve got such strong legs! And a great ass!”

 

“Good man, complimenting my greatest assets,” Izumi tosses back, kicking at the snow as if it will reveal its secrets to him sooner. “Ugh, I hate this. I’ve lived here my whole damned life, you’d _think_ I’d know where something like this is…”

 

Izumi trails off, squinting as his eyes catch a peculiar twist of smoky air, billowing up slowly from the ground. “I _bet_ that’s steam from the springs underground. What if it’s fucking balmy underneath there?” he calls back, diving down into the enormous snowbank without any hesitation.

 

“That…that would be really good, I think,” Arashi decides. “As long as you let me take off all these layers, I really hate wearing any more than I have to. Ah, fuck, as long as it’s out of these winds, I don’t give a shit what it’s like, is my nose all right? It feels like it’s going to fall off.”

 

“I don’t know, get over here and let me stare at it. _Or_ , you could help me dig with your big man arms,” Izumi growls, coming up with snow blending into the silver of his hair, and a pair of rocks tossed aside. “The more of those move, the more steam there is. We’re either going to find a warming stone, or a tunnel. Either way, you should be happy.”

 

“Both sound good,” Arashi agrees after a moment, and slides down after Izumi, grabbing rocks with gloved hands, tossing them over his shoulders like they weigh nothing at all.

 

Several minutes of moving rocks later, Izumi leaps back as the ground seems to open up, a few smaller rocks toppling down into what looks to be an only reasonably sized hole in the side of the hill, steam billowing out of it as white clouds in the freezing air. “I have a hard time believing drakes took every single woman and child down this thing, but all right,” Izumi exhales, and glances up to Arashi, eyebrows lifting. “Ladies first?”

 

“They could have gone down a different passage, right?” Arashi asks, his teeth finally unclenching as he steps close, shucking his outer cloak and leaving it by the ground. He grabs the edges of the hole, then lowers himself down, dangling by his hands for a moment. “It’s, uh…I’m gonna drop and hope that I hit the bottom soon,” he calls up, trying to see anything in the darkness after the blinding light of the ice. “If I break my legs, fix me up fast, yeah?”

 

Then he drops, hitting the ground with a sharp yip of surprise. “Never mind! It’s only a foot or so! Ah, yeah, it’s really warm down here. Come on, I’ll catch you.” His voice echoes in the tunnel, which slowly starts to resolve itself into something more than blackness.

 

Izumi hesitates only for a moment before slithering down the hole, and dropping down easily into Arashi’s waiting arms. “It’s as humid as High Harbor in here,” he murmurs, his eyes visibly dilating in the dim light to adjust to it. “All of the hot springs must be under this mess…I guess you can start stripping now.”

 

Arashi starts immediately, tossing his extra clothes into a pile. “I’m staying down here until spring, you realize. Ah, I’m glad I brought these,” he says with relief, tapping his cleated feet against the icy floor. “Otherwise I’d be slipping all around.”

 

“Keep taking it all off, I want to see your back,” Izumi only half-jokes, striding across the slick ice floor without hesitation. “Mm, it gets slushy up ahead. Even a wobbly-legged beast like you should be fine.”

 

“I’m known at home for being very surefooted!” Arashi complains, stomping off after him. “Humans aren’t meant to walk on ice, you know!”

 

“Stay up here with me for more than a summer, you’ll learn to walk on ice,” Izumi says, peering warily around a corner of the tunnel’s stone walls when it suddenly seems to go dark again. He hesitates, then begrudgingly holds up a hand, palm-up, where a small, flickering blue flame springs to life. Doing any sort of magic around Arashi other than healing isn’t exactly what he wants, but…needs must. “It’s even warmer up here. Stick close, though, I don’t want to light the whole place up.”

 

Arashi’s eyes light up like the blue flame, and he clings to Izumi’s elbow, shuffling quickly to keep up with him. “That’s _incredible_ , you’re going to be the Emperor of the whole Academy soon, I knew you were really powerful!”

 

“…You’re just saying that because Mika used to explode everything when he tried to light a candle,” Izumi scolds, tugging Arashi along the slushier path near the walls. The rock walls are warm, radiating enough heat to melt the ice closest to them. “I’ll never be the Emperor. I’ll just be stuck in the Academy forever, if Rei has his way.”

 

“You’re being paranoid,” Arashi sing-songs. “Darling, just because you’re being cruelly forced to obey the rules that everyone else has to follow doesn’t mean you’re being persecuted.”

 

“Uh huh. They’re starving me. On purpose, I’m pretty sure.”

 

“Ah, yes, they clearly invented that rule for just you, too.”

 

“What they don’t tell you,” Izumi flatly says, “is that while you’re perfectly allowed to have sex these days, if you’re a wizard—it’s when you’re done with your training. I’m expected to be celibate. For _ten years_ —probably more, because they don’t know how to train me properly. The last time they had a wizard with drake’s blood was before Rei’s time.”

 

“Eh?” Arashi cocks his head. “Does that mean I’m going to be in trouble for fucking you this morning? I assumed you were doing it in secret a lot.”

 

“Ritsu would show up once every three months, if I was _lucky_ ,” Izumi darkly says, glowering back over his shoulder. “You won’t get in trouble, because I’m not going back. Rei can bandage up the holes his rose thorns leave in his hands like every other normal man.”

 

“He should stop grabbing roses, then,” Arashi says tartly. He squints into the darkness, as they come to a fork in the tunnels. “Any suggestions? I don’t suppose you can, I don’t know, sense them or something?”

 

“I don’t…” Izumi bites his lip, cutting himself off as he focuses before answering outright. At least Arashi didn’t shy away from him when he used magic, like Izumi half-expected him to. They’d always talked about good it was to be _normal_ , how good it was to not be a crazy, mental wizard… _but I’m not Mika or Shu, and if I can just use this shit to make our lives easier, that’s fine…right?_

 

“…to the left,” Izumi quietly says, pulling Arashi that way. “It’s noisy, all the energy.”

 

“Now that was properly cool,” Arashi says, grinning as he follows Izumi. “How far away are we, do you think? Farther than we walked yesterday, I’ll bet.”

 

“Yesterday, we were maybe a five minute’s walk in summer away from the keep. You’re just useless in the snow.” Izumi pauses. “It doesn’t freak you out?”

 

“It freaks me _right_ the hell out,” Arashi says immediately, scowling and kicking one of his cleats at the icy wall. “Any of these tunnels could collapse at any time, I’m totally turned around, and the snow? No snow should ever get that high! It’s not right, living in a place like this, and here _we_ are, chasing monsters in it! Like idiots!”

 

“You’re as dumb as a sack of hammers, you know that? Who gives a fuck about the snow, I know what I’m doing. I was talking about me using magic, dipshit. But don’t kick the wall, it could very well fall down on you.”

 

“Yeep!” Arashi squeaks, skittering away from the wall as if it had poked him. “You do flashier magic now, so what? You’re still you, and your magic was always…I don’t know. Good. I like wizards quite a bit, you know. Proposed to one and everything.”

 

“And we used to talk shit about how loony wizards were,” Izumi mildly points out, steadying Arashi when he skitters out across the icier floor. It’s colder down this fork of the tunnel, which probably proves him right. “And you told me how much magic freaked you out. Don’t act surprised that I’m asking you about this.”

 

“Yeah,” Arashi agrees, flashing a grin. “But I’m doing an awesome job of getting over it, I think. Besides, your magic isn’t…like theirs. Shu and Mika were the only ones I ever knew well, and Shu used to blow up trees whenever he saw a spider, and I saw Mika once kill a whole city with the cursed spirits of the dead. So yeah, a little blue light isn’t going to make me clutch my skirts.”

 

“…For what it’s worth,” Izumi begrudgingly admits, “I’ve failed every single beginning and remedial class on offensive magic that I’ve ever been forced to take. I doubt I’ll be blowing up anything any time soon. But you are doing an excellent job of getting over it. Thank you.”

 

Arashi shrugs. “Look, it’s one thing when it’s a few people in my life are creepy, but still good. But when it’s just about everyone I know, it’s time to get past it, for good.”

 

“Good boy. I’ll make a decent husband out of you yet.”

 

“Stop iiiiit, my heart hurts, I fucking love you.”

 

“Every time you say that, it makes me want to kiss you stupid, but we’re busy right now,” Izumi sweetly says. “No matter how much I hate it. Ah—fuck, it’s very dark here.”

 

The flame flares brighter between his fingertips, emanating no heat, only light. “If we do find them,” he quietly says, “follow my lead, all right? I think I’ve dealt with more strange Shadow creatures than you at this point.” 

 

“Just step on my foot with your cleats if I start acting up,” Arashi murmurs, huddling close to Izumi as if he’s a blushing maiden, not a tall, broad soldier. “Nnh, how much further? It’s going to be a hell of a walk back.”

 

“It hasn’t been _that_ far. You’re just tired from the walk in the cold.”

 

The ice starts to seize up on the walls again instead of dripping slowly, and Izumi pauses, unbuckling his cloak and passing it back to Arashi. “It’s going to get chilly again.”

 

Arashi shakes his head. “Keep it. Now that we’re out of the wind, I’m plenty warm. See, I don’t give a shit about cold, but that wind…that wind knows my mother’s maiden name, you know what I mean?”

 

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before,” Izumi mutters, feeling the hair raise on the back of his neck in spite of there not being anything…there. “Put it on. Just…put it on.”

 

“Eh? But I’m really not cold,” Arashi protests. “It’s not so—“

 

“Step forward, if you are Lord,” comes a whispering, fluted voice, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere, echoing through the tunnels, not quite human. “If you would see them, be you known to us.”

 

Arashi’s hand drops to his dagger, eyes scanning the darkness, immediately stepping to the side, covering more distance on his own, letting Izumi do the same.

 

Instinctively, Izumi’s gaze flicks to Arashi, then forward again. Hackles raised, he takes a step forward in front of Arashi, swinging out an arm to block him from striding forward at his side. “Back,” he quietly says, the fire fluttering before disappearing from his hand, leaving them in nearly pitch black darkness. “I am Lord Izumi of the North,” he says, voice loud enough to echo on the icy walls. “You have my mother, my daughters. I’ve come to claim them.”

 

A hiss of relief comes from the darkness, and two tiny pinpricks of white light flicker into visibility, deep in the tunnel. The voice speaks again, less a hiss, more lilting, sounding like the blowing of wind across cave mouths. “Bleed on the ice.”

 

Izumi hesitates, but he extends his wrist, rolling up his sleeve to drag his dagger across it. His blood splatters down onto the ice before the wound almost immediately heals, closing up even faster than usual in the cold air. “The human with me is my mate,” he swiftly adds, glancing back to Arashi and sternly mouthing the words, _Put on the damn cloak._

 

Arashi whips the cloak around his shoulders, looking down at the ice, which melts as if Izumi had poured a crock of boiling water on it, rather than a few drops of blood. Then the ice heals itself, just as Izumi’s flesh had, without any pitting or scarring.

 

A creature emerges from the darkness. Taller than a tall man by half again, it stoops in the tunnel, beaded all over with pearlescent nodes, the color of its skin rippling and changing from second to second, like clear ice in the sun, flickering deep greens and blues and whites. A long, thin tail swishes slowly back and forth, and round, large eyes blink slowly down at Izumi. Then, between eyeblinks, the creature seamlessly shifts into a tall human, with silver hair spilling down his back, shirtless and unconcerned about the cold, lean and lithe, with slit-pupiled eyes. “Your mother,” the creature says, in a slightly hollow-toned voice that nevertheless sounds like pleasant music, “is waiting for you, boy. Follow. Take your mate’s weapon.”

 

“That’s so fucking disturbing,” Izumi mutters underneath his breath, turning partially back towards Arashi with an outstretched hand. His fingers tremble slightly. “Hand it over.” _Sorry, I hate this, too._

 

Arashi bears his teeth, then hands over his dagger silently. _You’d better be able to do what I would with it._

 

“Follow me,” the drake says with a slight bow. “And we will take you to your people. Among them are many women and girls.” He turns, striding confidently down the tunnel, adding over his shoulder, “Since you don’t seem to be able to discern them from men.”

 

“I know the difference, thank you,” Izumi snaps back without thinking, nerves too frazzled to think about biting his tongue around a disturbing creature that he’s _probably_ related to, somehow. He tucks Arashi’s dagger into the back of his belt—Arashi can still snatch it off of him, if necessary—and strides forward with a nod for Arashi to follow. No, there’s no use acting terrified or anxious around these things; Ritsu has always _said_ he’s like a prince to them, hasn’t he? If he goes in with that mentality… “Why did you take them? As you said, they’re _my_ people.”

 

“Your people?” The drake turns his head around, blinking curiously, without breaking his stride. “This is my herd. We have cultivated them for a thousand years. Do you not bring your sheep into the barn, come the winter?”

 

“They aren’t _sheep_. I’ve been alive for many Northern winters, and this has never happened here before. Why now?”

 

“They are not sheep,” the drake agrees. “They are my herd. Special and precious, each one. And in your long life, boy, have you ever seen anything like the Shadow that falls over my kingdom now?”

 

“No, I haven’t, which is why I’m trying to understand what it is and _why_ you felt it so pertinent to steal _my_ people away from me,” Izumi says through gritted teeth, lengthening his stride to stay closer to the drake’s heels. “Don’t call me _boy_. I have a name, I’ve told it to you as a courtesy.”

 

The drake looks forward again, long silver curls falling behind him in a cascade. “It sounds strange in our tongue. Portentous. Your sire chose…strangely.”

 

“Shouldn’t this be his herd, if anyone’s?” Izumi flippantly shoots back. “Wasn’t my mother his, as much as she was anyone’s?”

 

“I am the…” The drake trills a word in that fluted song, the annoyance of the bilingual on his face. “The sheep of the North belong to you, but also to the shepherd, do they not? Are they not his herds, and your herds, too? I am the humanherd, as your sire is my…” Another trilled word. “What you are, to the shepherd, your language has so many titles. Lord.”

 

“You remind me so much more of Wataru than Ritsu, and that’s not a compliment,” Izumi darkly mutters to himself, rather displeased that his own kind are _like this_. “If my sire is your Lord, then I am as well. Yes?”

 

“Mm.” The drake thinks for a moment, then declares, “No.”

 

Then he walks in silence for several paces, adding, “Your sire wishes to speak to you, before you join the herd. Perhaps he will not be too…disappointed.”

 

Izumi’s eyes narrow, but he bites his tongue, no matter how he’d reflexively like to protest every bit of that sentence. “I’ll speak to him,” he allows instead, his gaze briefly flicking back towards Arashi. “I have a few questions for him.”

 

“Your father…” Another trilled song, far longer this time, and the creature shifts back into its drake form between eyeblinks. “Has…peculiarities. Step more gently on the ice. Your man-mate is cruel to its songs.”

 

“Hear that, man-mate?” Izumi deadpans, shrugging one of his shoulders back at Arashi. _I don’t know either, don’t look at me like that._ “You’re not being nice to the ice. Want to hold my hand?”

 

Arashi mouths, _I have no idea what’s going on,_ and takes Izumi’s hand, trying to step more kindly somehow. From the dirty look the big lizard thing shoots him, he’s not doing a very good job.

 

It feels like a year they walk, until suddenly the tunnel slopes down, and Arashi promptly slips and falls on his ass, gasping in startled pain. “Ow…stupid…fucking tunnel…”

 

“You should slide,” the creature says, its big feet flattening out along the ice, tail brushing behind it, guiding, as he slowly starts to slide down the slope.

 

Arashi stares, then scoots forward on his ass, raising an eyebrow at Izumi. “Shall we?”

 

“I hate every part of this,” Izumi declares, slipping on his own feet for the first time, huffing out a displeased breath. He flops down all the same, and takes that brief moment to shove Arashi’s dagger back into his boot. “That cloak is magicked, don’t you dare take it off,” he lowly warns in Arashi’s ear before he slips away again, shoving himself down the slope after the other creature.

 

The tunnel grows steeper, and steeper, until the slide grows less controlled, until they’re moving so fast the wind starts to whip by them, and Arashi shrieks, spinning wildly around, until it abruptly evens out, and he eventually comes skidding to a halt.

 

In front of Izumi is another drake, taller, broader, with visible muscle under the beaded skin. He ripples, then changes, into a man who could be Izumi’s elder brother, silver curls cut to shoulder length, body compact, lithe, that of a dancer or an archer. He doesn’t look a day over thirty, and stands more easily, as if he’s far more accustomed to balancing without a tail than the previous drake. He’s also clothed, wearing long white robes, that shimmer in a faint light shining from pale white torches set into the tunnel sides, shining without flickering. “Hello, Izumi,” he says, voice far more human than the last drake. “Son.”

 

After so many years, hearing the legends, the stories surrounding his conception, his eventual birth, being faced finally with the man—no, creature—responsible for it, is…troubling.

 

Izumi slowly stands, his eyes flicking back towards Arashi before he bends to offer him a hand up, feeling how slick the ice is still underfoot. “…Father,” he greets curtly as he straightens. “Perhaps you’ll be more forthcoming about this…situation. More so than your ‘humanherd’ was, at least.”

 

The drake bends his head. “We can talk here. Your…” His lips quirk to the side, an oddly human gesture as he looks at Arashi. “You are one of mine, you cannot be content with just one. But this one you have chosen, we have warming drinks inside, he will surely be happier there. Without the knife in his boot.”

 

“He’ll keep the knife in his boot,” Izumi firmly says, folding his arms over his chest. “He doesn’t have magic, or fangs, or talons. Besides, what concern is it to you, if he cuts you or yours?”

 

“No one is allowed to harm the women and children,” the drake says calmly. “No one who can is allowed near them. For irreplaceable blood to be spilled is a great crime, in these halls, and there is no greater danger to human women than human men.”

 

Arashi stares up at him, then shrugs, pulling the knife out of his boot and handing it to Izumi. “Can’t say I don’t like his thinking.”

 

Izumi’s mouth purses, but he takes the knife all the same, shoving it back into his belt. “Fine,” he quietly says. “Go warm up, then. Don’t get drunk on whatever poison they’re trying to drug you up with, though.”

 

“What if it’s wine?” Arashi jokes, following the humanherd or whatever down the tunnel. “I’ve heard things about Icewine, can’t say I wouldn’t sample!”

 

As soon as the two of them disappear, Izumi’s father turns back to him, slit-pupiled eyes crinkled in amusement. “I am called Frei,” he says, smiling slightly. “You may call me that, or Father, whichever pleases you. You have questions.”

 

“Many.” Unease still makes it impossible to settle, and Izumi’s gloves fingers curl against his arms. “As long as I’ve been alive, you’ve never done something like this. Why now? All you’ve succeeded in doing is terrifying the rest of my people and getting them killed, thus far.”

 

“They’ve never faced a threat like this.” Frei’s eyes darken, an involuntary reaction that betrays something like fear. “The creature hunting them is a Drude. It leads the Wild Hunt. Men and warriors are often spared. Women and children are too precious to be risked. A Drude has led a rebellion in the Shadowlands, and wishes to prove to its brethren that they need fear and respect humanity no longer. They will start with the North. When every last human is dead or enslaved, it will move on to the Hinterlands, swelling its ranks. Then, it will march on the Capitol, on the darkest night of the year. You would prefer I leave my people to this fate?”

 

“No, of course not, but—you _know_ Northerners respect and love you. You could’ve left any kind of message to explain it. Now all they know is fear, and only assume that you took their women as your own.” Izumi’s expression twists in frustration. “This creature—has it taken the Inglings as its own, too? Further north than Sena, there was an…incident. Was it responsible for that, too?”

 

“…Inglings?” Frei asks, head turned to the side. “I regret how little time we had to prepare. If Inglings are those disgusting creatures from the Lowlands that desecrated one of my villages, yes. The Drude is…inspirational, to such degradations. It forces creatures into erratic behavior, sweeps them up into the Wild Hunt and leaves them in odd locations, behaving strangely, never for the good of humans. It is…our natural enemy.”

 

His eyes mist over suddenly, and he looks back down the tunnel. “We fear it. Deeply.”

 

“…Then we have to destroy it. Correct?” Izumi presses, taking a step closer. “I have no objections with you protecting the women and children of the North until then, but—they need to be returned to me, once I finish this. And it will be finished. I have many friends, many _powerful_ friends, all of which would help get rid of this thing. The Demon King and Prince themselves, wizards of all kinds.”

 

Frei nods his head again. “Such things are beyond my kind. I have lived many hundreds of lifetimes of men, but only in the ice and snow. Such travels and alliances—you are truly irreplaceable. The women and children do not wish to live beneath the ice. When the Drude is defeated, we will happily return them to their dwellings. We wish them no harm, after all. They are our beloved responsibility. Beneath our ice, even a Drude cannot reach their precious lives.”

 

“I’m inclined to believe you,” Izumi quietly says, “but your strange little attendant told me you wanted me to join ‘your herd’. I’m hoping you don’t mean that literally, because I refuse. Also—obviously, I want to see them. Untouched, I hope.”

 

“Roj is not…good at being human,” Frei says sadly. “Come, I’ll take you to them. Nature does prevail, though. You, perhaps, do not understand, since you are clearly insane with hunger.”

 

“I am not insane with anything,” Izumi incredulously says. “Do I smell strangely or something? Why is _everyone_ commenting on this? If ‘nature does prevail’ is a cute excuse you’re offering up, I’ll skin you and your own for my boots. _My_ children are among those taken.”

 

Frei spreads his hands, and turns around, walking down the tunnel. “Nature does prevail. Your spirit is erratic, unchecked. You haven’t touched a woman in years, I can sense it. Men of our species have no choice.”

 

“Disagree. I’ve made the choice not to, and so therefore I don’t. Using _nature_ as an excuse is considered a greatly displeasing thing amongst humans,” Izumi sharply says, striding quickly after his father-apparent. “Especially when you have scared, defenseless women in your company.”

 

Frei shrugs. “We are not humans.”

 

“You’re bedding humans. My mother, did she want you?”

 

“Is want necessary, in such situations?”

 

“First of all, yes, always. Second of all, fuck you.”

 

Frei’s eyes lid, his stride unbroken. “Such things are important to you. It was not always this way. Things were quite different when I first learned of humans.”

 

“It’s different now. It should have been the same then, but it’s certainly different now.” Izumi quickens his pace, gritting his teeth as one of his feet slide out from underneath him, and he catches himself against the wall before falling back into stride. “What you did to my mother—to who knows how many others—it’s a terrible thing. Women and men fear when you’ll appear instead of thinking of it as something auspicious.”

 

Frei’s feet don’t trip, as if the ice knows where he’ll step, as if he’s one with it, no matter how slippery or pitted it becomes. “When I visited my first woman,” he recalls, “they told me that for pride, a woman would always deny a mating, though her heart spoke the truth. It appears nothing has changed. Your mother spread her legs quite willingly, though she spoke words of denial for honor’s sake. It is always the same. Do not hate them for their lies. It is to preserve society. We understand this. They must lie, to avoid hurting the feelings of men after they are visited.”

 

“Bullshit. I’m done talking about this,” Izumi flatly says. “Except for one last thing—if you or your men have laid hands on my daughters, I’ll take them back with me now.”

 

“Your eldest is a woman,” Frei says quietly. “It would be a great honor for her. But I have forbidden any visitation during the sheltering period. It is not safe for children to be welcomed in a time of terror. There will be time enough for visits when the Drude has perished.”

 

Izumi hisses through his teeth, but he bites down on his commentary, onto every logical retort that obviously doesn’t quite process within lizard brains. _See if I don’t let the Drude or whatever eat you, if you keep talking like that._ “If you want my help,” he quietly says instead, “you’ll still keep what I said in mind.”

 

“One would think you wished the human race to come to an end,” Frei observes mildly. “You forbid others to lie together, and you find no woman’s bed, denying your nature with every breath you take. Such a thing is anathema to us. Do you find no pleasure in women’s bodies? Or do they offend you in some way? I believe you are doing it wrong.”

 

“Obviously I’ve found pleasure in women’s bodies before,” Izumi stiffly retorts. “That doesn’t mean I want to now, or in the future. I’ve done my part to continue the human race. I don’t _forbid_ anyone from lying with one another, if they both _want it_ , but please, continue to criticize my choice in mates when you know nothing about me, _Father._ ”

 

“You refuse to let your daughter find pleasure,” Frei says, raising an eyebrow. “Nor any of your women and my kind, despite the fact that women are often…discontent, after their visitors leave, for they will not find such pleasure again in this world. Is it your travels that have made you doubt the pleasures of women? Perhaps travel is overrated, after all, as my advisors have warned me.” His voice sounds, if anything, wistful. “I should have liked for them to be wrong. I have always wanted to see the Shadowlands, and the great sea of sand, and the sea so warm men and women wear nothing but skin to taste the water.”

 

“It isn’t women that I have an issue with. It’s the men around them.” Izumi slips again, curses when that definitely pulls something in his thigh, and he moodily rubs at it while the muscle aches for a few, brief moments. “I’m not refusing my daughters anything, or any woman, for that matter. But I want it to be something _they_ want, not forced on them because of your magic or what our country has taught them is a good omen. Maybe you can’t understand that, but you’ve never had someone turn sex into an ugly thing before, is my guess.” Izumi shrugs, his face impassive. “Don’t go South. You’ll hate it. And melt. The Shadowlands are all right, though.”

 

Frei hesitates, then extends one hand, squeezing Izumi’s arm gently. “If you were fully raised in this land, you would be honored as you should be,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry for what’s been done to you. Breeding should be joyful, for everyone. I have often brought husbands into my bed as well, to share and rejoice in the honor their wives are done in my arms.”

 

“Good for you,” Izumi mutters, slapping the touch away instinctively, unwilling to be coddled and comforted by someone he barely even knows through the constant retelling of fairy tales. “How much further? I’m not leaving my sword outside the damned door, either, don’t ask me to.”

 

“Of course not.” Frei smiles, looking totally unbothered by Izumi’s rejection of his touch. “You’re one of us. And far more dangerous with tooth and claw than with any blade. Just around the next bend. Shall we increase the pace?” He does so, striding confidently along the ice, nearly skating.

 

“Now you’re just mocking me,” Izumi grouses behind his father’s back, forcing himself to lengthen his strides. Arashi probably died on the way here, he unhappily thinks. Poor thing. He mulls a question over a few more times before finally, begrudgingly asking, “Are you really telling me that the reason my magic is so…unruly…is because I’m not tumbling women?”

 

“Magic…your spirit,” Frei says after a moment, turning the words over before he speaks them. “Yes. You deny an essential part of your nature. More than that, you have twisted and corrupted it into something…dark. Foul. You caused harm, but that part of you is not to blame. This much I can tell, just by looking at you, my son.”

 

“There’s at least half a dozen things _that_ could be referring to, trust me,” Izumi mutters unhappily. “But I ask because…you know of wizards, don’t you? At least vaguely?”

 

“Those that use spirit actively to affect the energies of the world, yes,” Frei confirms. “In my youth, mostly, though I’ve met some travelers since, mostly our darker brethren.”

 

“Well, now you’ve met me, in your old age. Apparently, no other wizard…knows what to even do with me, because your blood runs through my veins. If that’s something that can be supposedly solved by lying with a woman, I suppose I’ll continue to be a helpless case.”

 

“Here,” Frei says, suddenly irritated, and grabs Izumi’s head with one big hand.

 

Light and sound rush into Izumi, knowledge flooding through his mind, and he’s ripped out of his body, a thousand years of understanding, of magical sensation, surging into him at once. With it comes an innate understanding of his own biology, his magical energies, twisted and stunted in the last several years, yearning for contact like a plant for nutrients, all of this information flashing into him in less than a second, with the force of a neutron star.

 

Frei pulls his hand away, shaking it. “Language is so slow, sometimes. Come along, here we are.”

 

Izumi stumbles, wide-eyed and pale, and clings to the wall for a moment, breathing heavily. “…I _hate_ purebloods,” he settles upon dimly, recalling the last time that he’d felt so oddly, strangely overstimulated and sort of violated was in Wataru’s presence, for better or for worse. Trembling, he stumbles after Frei, swallowing hard. “Arashi? Please do not be drunk.”

 

The tunnel opens into a wide cavern, lit by far more of the white torches, shining constantly with a soft, illuminating glow on each wall. Hundreds of women and children clustered in small groups, or slept on piles of furs, some of the children laughing and playing games under the watchful eyes of their mothers. Near the entrance, Arashi sit on a pile of furs with Sena Maya, Kinsley, and Elia, each of them holding a cup, until Kinsley tosses hers to the side, uncaring as the icy cup shatters on the floor. She leaps up, and launches herself at Izumi, dangling from his neck. “Papa! Papa, you came!”

 

Without hesitation, Izumi crushes her into his chest, squeezing her hard enough that he’s certain his own bones pop. “Of course I came, you little idiot—gods, you’re _huge_ ,” he breathes, though he doesn’t exactly set her down onto her feet yet. “Are you all right? You’ve been taking care of your sister and grandmother, haven’t you?”

 

“Of course, Papa!” Kinsley wraps her legs around his waist, clinging fiercely. “I’m helping Grandmama and Elia, they’re not as strong as me. I made friends with Tajya and Reiv, they treat us all like the queens we are.”

 

“Good girl,” Izumi murmurs, hoisting her up a bit more to step further into the room, refusing to put her down when she’s in his arms, alive and well. Elia clings to her grandmother’s arm, eyes wide, and Izumi carefully kneels down, letting her pounce into his arms as well. “Mama,” he greets as he juggles both girls. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

 

Maya raises an eyebrow, looking him up and down. “What took so long? I didn’t ask you to come down here. You should be with the men.”

 

“Even being born in the North, these tunnels were as of yet unknown to me,” Izumi dryly says, petting Elia’s hair as she clings to his. “My men needed to know that you were all safe.”

 

“Papa, I learned to sing,” Elia says in his ear, then blows a weirdly fluted note.

 

“I do hope they aren’t fretting themselves stupid,” Maya says with a sigh, looking up at him from where she sits. “I didn’t have time to put anyone in charge, but I do hope Dayton is doing his duty. Are the men behaving themselves? Is the harvest all in safely?”

 

“They _are_ fretting themselves stupid, because they’ve never seen anything like this before,” Izumi lowly says, and he kneels close to her. “Mother, there’s less than a hundred men left in Sena.”

 

Maya’s face freezes. Kinsley squirms out of his arms, looking startled. “What? Where’d they all go? There should be a few thousand!”

 

“Keep your voice down,” Izumi quietly says, holding his mother’s gaze. “Whatever the drakes are protecting you from came for the men after you were all taken. I did what I could, but—I was too late to help most of them. You all need to stay here a little while longer while I kill the thing that did this.”

 

“…No,” Maya whispers, shaking her head slowly. “No, no, they must have gone somewhere, they can’t all be—not dead, they can’t all be dead!”

 

Kinsley’s jaw firms. “Papa, I’m coming, too. I’m going after them.”

 

“Like hell you are. Mother,” Izumi firmly says, grabbing Maya’s shoulders and giving her a firm shake. “I’m handling it. I’m here now. That thing—I’m going to kill it, and bring you its head.”

 

“Yeah, Grandmama,” Kinsley says seriously. “We’ll bring you its head.”

 

“You’re staying here,” Izumi repeats, pulling his mother to his chest to firmly hug her. “If you don’t, Kinsley, who’s going to take care of your sister?”

 

“Grandmama,” Kinsley says promptly. “She’s strong, Papa. But I’m _really_ strong. There’s nothing dangerous _here_ , I wanna fight where it’s scary. I can help, you know I can!”

 

“And who’s going to take care of your Grandmama if not you? You’re staying here. Your—“ He almost says _your grandfather_ , but thinks the better of it. Giving Frei that much credit isn’t something he’s willing to do yet. “The drakes here have told me about the creature that killed so many of our men. It’s a drake’s natural enemy; I’m not losing my daughters to a thing like that, so you’ll stay put and protect your sister and your grandmother.”

 

“If it’s a drake’s natural enemy,” Maya whispers, in his ear to keep the girls from hearing it, “you won’t be safe. I haven’t told the girls.”

 

“Then it’s lucky I have powerful friends, isn’t it?” Izumi whispers back, pressing a kiss to his mother’s hair. “All the more reason they need to stay here, because I’m not. Arashi,” he abruptly calls out, “if you aren’t drunk, we need to go soon. Even if you’re drunk, we need to go soon.”

 

Arashi frowns down into his cup. “I don’t _think_ I’m drunk,” he says slowly. “But I _do_ think this is very delicious. Icewine, is it? I _must_ arrange for an import.”

 

“Yeah, let’s go,” Kinsley agrees, standing and straightening her dress.

 

“Don’t make me tell you again,” Izumi quietly says. “Sit down, stay with your grandmother and sister, and keep them safe.”

 

Fire burns in Kinsley’s eyes. “You’re not the King yet,” she says stubbornly, sticking out her chin. “You don’t command me. Only Grandmama can.”

 

Maya’s mouth twitches in amusement. “He’s still your father, child. Though, of course, you’re right, and he should take a proper position at some point.”

 

“Luckily, I’ve defected from the Academy, and mean to stay in the North,” Izumi says, releasing his mother as he carefully climbs to his feet. “All the better to reign over spoiled little girls that refuse to listen to their fathers. Sit down, Kinsley; don’t argue with me again.”

 

Kinsley lets out a huff, sitting hard down on her rump. “There’d better be some fighting for me to do,” she grumbles. “I’m better with a spear than any man in Sena. Don’t embarrass me in front of demons, Papa.”

 

“Be safe, Papa.” Elia’s eyes are huge and round, and she reaches up, pressing a small carved stone into his hand in the shape of a drake. “Don’t let the shadows get you.”

 

“I won’t, love,” Izumi says, running a thumb over the stone before tucking it into his pocket. “Mama—a word? Before I drag this drunk idiot out of here and bring back good news to our men.”

 

“Icewine is very sweet,” Arashi informs him, “but not very strong—oh, thank you, Elia, I almost dropped it, didn’t I? Hehe…”

 

Maya stands, patting the girls on the head, taking Izumi’s arm and drawing him away. “Avenge them,” she says quietly. “However you can. They are your people.”

 

“I plan to.” Izumi exhales a hot breath, watching it turn to thin, wispy white smoke in the chilly air. “Now that I have a name of what the creature is…I can far better explain why I need help. Mama—“ He hesitates, then pushes forward all the same. “You’d tell me, if these drakes hurt you, wouldn’t you? I don’t feel right leaving you here, but it’s not safe in Sena…”

 

Maya’s mouth twitches. “You want to know if your daughters have been raped,” she says bluntly. “Look around. All of us in one room, light and sound and cheer—this isn’t how a drake does such things. They’re afraid, not intent. And I wouldn’t be alive, if they’d tried to take either of them from my arms.”

 

“…Good.” Izumi’s own mouth twists unhappily. “I still don’t like any of this. And I don’t think I like drakes very much, actually.”

 

Maya laughs. “They’re a part of life, up here, as much as ice and snow. I hope you’re as rude to your friends’ patron creatures down in the South.”

 

“I am,” Izumi bluntly says. “Because I don’t like them, either. Creatures, in general, are terrible.”

 

“Don’t say such things so loudly,” she says softly. “Those lovely daughters of yours are part-creature, now, aren’t they?”

 

“They’re more human than drake, thankfully.” Izumi glances aside, his eyes lidding. “Promise me—if something happens down here, you’ll find a way to let me know. I’ll come for all of you. But in the meantime, it’s safer here, no matter how I dislike that.”

 

“It’s warmer than anywhere else in winter,” she replies tartly. “I’d have a hard time forcing them to go back right now.” Her lips thin, pressed in a tight line. “I won’t go back until you catch and kill the things that did this. If you want your mother back, that’s my price. Otherwise, the North is yours, I’ll live out my days with the drakes.”

 

“Fine.”

 

Izumi brushes past her, holding out his hand for Arashi to take it. The longer he stays and talks to his mother, the more frustrating this becomes. Knowing she’s safe is the most important thing, anyway. “Come, man-mate,” he deadpans, grunting from the effort of hauling Arashi to his feet. “Leave the Icewine and come back with me. We have work to do.”

 

Arashi giggles, slipping a bit before he finds his feet. “Wow, you’re so strong, that’s nice,” he murmurs, and leans close, nuzzling into Izumi’s ear, then licking it from lobe to shell. “You taste good, this place makes me horny.”

 

That sends a startled shiver directly down Izumi’s spine, and it takes everything in his power to pull away, his face hot. “…Actually, bring the Icewine,” Izumi mutters, snatching up the skin of it as he pulls Arashi with him. “One foot in front of the other, good boy. If you’re still horny when we’re out of here, you can have me every which way you like.”

 

“Yaaaay,” Arashi sing-songs, grabbing the skin of Icewine from Izumi, tucking it into his belt. “That’s mine, then. Very nice. Did you know, it only took me a couple of swallows to get like this? Very, very good. Drakes must be good, if their wine is so nnnnniiiiiiice. Hey, how are we gonna climb the steep slope?”

 

“My guess is there’s another way out of this place.” Izumi’s mouth purses, and he firmly holds onto Arashi’s hand, dragging him along back towards the entranceway to the chamber. “Father.” It’s a curt address, but he manages it all the same. “I don’t suppose there’s an _easier_ way to leave, when one is toting someone extremely drunk.”

 

Frei smiles, nodding at Izumi. “There is. It may be a little…disorienting. But it is quite quick. You’ll be home in ten minutes.”

 

“Ideal, when I’m dragging this idiot.” Izumi yanks Arashi after him, more or less just letting his feet skate across the ice. “As long as it drops me somewhere within Sena, I can find my way back.” And then, no matter how it takes _effort_ to bite out the words, “Thank you, for protecting my people.”

 

Something like genuine relief spreads over the drake’s too-human face, and Frei’s smile relaxes into something warmer. “It is no more than we owe them, for our part of the arrangement. Do you not wish to speak to them before leaving? A word from their Lord would be warming to many.”

 

“It’s only warming if a Lord has something meaningful to say.” Izumi shakes his head, glancing away again. “With any luck, I’ll be back with more than promises soon.”

 

Frei nods again, silver curls tumbling. “We will keep them safe. Should all the forces of a thousand Drudes come to our tunnels, they will not have the flock. You have my word. Now, come. And bring this one, he is unsteady.”

 

“Your mother’s unsteady,” Arashi mutters, slipping a bit on the ice despite his cleats.

 

“Does Icewine always make men like this?” Izumi dryly asks, gritting his teeth with the effort it takes to get Arashi’s arm over his shoulder and drag him along. “Why are you so _heavy?_ Did you get fat in the Capital?”

 

“Muscle weighs more than fat, fuck you,” Arashi slurs, flopping his arm down.

 

“We cultivate Icewine to bring our favorites through the winters with good cheer,” Frei says, amused. “Usually a swallow is enough to suffice an entire day. Your man-mate has had a dozen or more.”

 

“Should I be…concerned?” Izumi wearily asks, digging his heels in to compensate for Arashi’s flopping. “Or just enthusiastic? This particular man-mate tends to only be _interested_ once daily, if I’m lucky.”

 

“Any son of mine should lack no stamina,” Frei observes dryly. “Say you will alert me if you ever wish to stave off the madness taking over your spirit, I’ll help you find a girl with the best possible energies.”

 

“I’m not _interested_ in women, thank you,” Izumi shortly reminds him. “And even if I was, I’m perfectly capable of getting them myself.”

 

“You would rather go mad?” Frei asks, confused. “You are one of mine. It will be a long, mad life. The longer you deny it, the stronger it grows. If you holdout another decade…” His head tilts to the side. “What is the word? You will feel compelled to take a woman by force.”

 

“I won’t do that. I’ll throw myself into the depths of the Shadowlands first.”

 

“There are women there.”

 

“Then I’ll find a way to die instead. I have my reasons. If you don’t want me questioning your way of life, then perhaps stop telling me all the things wrong with my own.”

 

Frei smiles. “You are spirited. Mine always are. I am drawn to women that make spirited sons and daughters. Here, to your right.”

 

A boulder of ice rolls easily away at Frei’s touch, revealing a small hole, looking like a man-sized chute. “Slide down there, and you’ll be in Sena in minutes. It doesn’t work in reverse, I’m afraid. There are meant to be no easy passages to this safe haven.”

 

“I should hope so. Next time, when I return,” Izumi grunts, shoving Arashi ahead of him, “I won’t bring a mate that drinks Icewine like it’s his dying day. Down with you, _man-mate_ , you heard him. You’ll be in Sena in minutes.”

 

“Man-mate,” Arashi giggles, flopping headfirst down into the tunnel, the giggles turning to gleeful shrieks that die away very quickly.

 

Frei lays a cool hand on Izumi’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “If all the men are dead,” he says quietly, “those women will need company. My fellows can assist, once the Drude is dead.”

 

Izumi’s face twists, and he shrugs off Frei’s touch. “No one is asking for that service,” he shortly says. “Especially if it results in more children like me. Only the North is so welcoming to our kind, you know.”

 

“It has happened on a large scale before,” Frei says mildly. “After disasters. Mudslides, avalanches, rampaging wild folk, leaving far fewer women than men. Women like to have sons and daughters that do not die of the cold, then. It will be the same. Safe journey, Izumi.”

 

Izumi bites back the urge to hiss, and instead says nothing, taking his leave by lowering himself down the tunnel, swiftly disappearing down it.

 

Of all things, _Cupcake_ greets him at the other side, scaly and strange, swishing that weird, fat tail back and forth like a damned dog. Izumi doesn’t even slap the weird thing away, and instead, just lies in the snow for a moment, letting it fall in fat flakes all over his face before the snog crawls atop his chest, and stays there. “Arashi,” he calls wearily, “you didn’t wander off, did you?”

 

“I don’t feel good,” comes the answer, and Arashi slowly gets to his feet, looking decidedly green. “I threw up. Oh, god, that isn’t just Icewine, what is that stuff?”

 

“Whatever mess you’ve been eating in the Keep, I imagine. Come here,” Izumi groans, hauling himself to his feet, Cupcake waddling after him through the snow. “I’ll try to soothe it away. I don’t suppose you’re still horny as hell, huh?”

 

In answer, Arashi looks down at his trousers, where a decided bulge protrudes. “Don’t suppose you have any mint leaves to chew? I’d hate to kiss you with my mouth like this.”

 

“You could just wash it out with a handful of snow, we’ve got enough of it,” Izumi mildly says, entirely unfazed as he reaches out to brush Arashi’s hair out of his face, fingers lingering over his temple. “Thanks for coming along. Turns out, having a father is just as annoying as everyone makes it out to be.”

 

Arashi’s face eases instantly, and he slumps closer to Izumi. “I’m sorry your man-mate is such an idiot arse,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to Izumi’s. “You know I can hold my liquor, I had no idea it was so strong.”

 

“I didn’t either, or I would’ve warned you,” Izumi quietly says, sliding both of his hands up to cup Arashi’s face, gently squishing his cheeks. “But I guess, logically, it has to be, if a drake wants to get drunk, too.” His mouth twitches, vaguely amused in spite of himself. “Thanks for being my man-mate, I’m going to keep calling you that.”

 

“Thanks, I’ve decided to like it instead of being offended,” Arashi says with a sigh, then stands, looking around the icy wasteland. He starts, blinking in surprise. “But—but that’s your palace, right? It’s right in front of us!”

 

Izumi blinks, turning to look where Arashi is looking, and his mouth drops open. “I…yes? Gods, I hate this,” Izumi hisses, kicking at a snowbank. “I don’t like feeling as if I’m a stranger in my own damned country. Stupid things, I felt like I was in a room full of Watarus, that’s the worst! Ugh, come on, bring your snog, I need to suck your dick or something after I tell my men everyone’s safe and sound.”

 

“Come here, sweetheart,” Arashi croons to Cupcake, patting the thing’s scaly head. “Did you miss us? Follow now, sweet, then let Daddies have their playtime.”

 

Cupcake purrs—gurgles, Izumi supposes, but he knows it now to be an attempt at a purr—and butts against Arashi’s touch, tail swishing happily. Izumi grimaces. “That thing is so gross,” he bluntly reminds Arashi. “Please don’t say that I’m it’s father.”

 

“Awww, but he loves you. Look at his widdle face.”

 

“Pass,” Izumi sighs, trying to shake off the oddly _jealous_ feeling that crosses over him when he looks at the snog winding around Arashi. That’s new. Annoying. Kind of itchy.

 

He shoves open the door to the Keep, and tries to put it out of his mind. “Your women and children have been found safely!” he announces, pulling himself to his full height. “The drakes are protecting them from the enemy that lies in the Shadows—a promise was made to me that they will not be harmed in any way.”

 

Shouts of relief and excitement echo through the halls of Sena, men hugging each other, slapping each others shoulders. A few men run up to grab Izumi in hugs, lifting him gleefully from the ground. “They’re all safe, they’re all safe!” goes up the cry, rattling around the room.

 

“They love you,” Arashi murmurs, feeling pride swell in his chest—pride, and something like loss. “Your men.”

 

 _Thank the gods, because they certainly are stuck with me._ “Enough, enough, that’s not the only news I’ve brought, but it certainly is the best,” Izumi says, clapping one of the men on the shoulders once he’s set back onto his feet, shaking his hair back out of his face. “The creature that would harm us—I have allies that can help us defeat it. But it isn’t safe for you to fight it; it wants to kill and enslave humans. I know staying held up within this Keep isn’t what you want for the winter…so I implore you, if necessary—go South without complaint. I know you’re all brave Northern men, but—the North will need you, once this has passed. I’ll know for sure once I speak to my allies, and yes, some are from the Capital. It’s about time they’ve returned the favor and helped us, isn’t it?”

 

Into the stunned silence that follows those words is a muttered, “Aye,” from the back of the room, though no one looks eager to admit that they were the one to say it. A few more men start to nod, and Dayton growls, “Aye, they should do their share. But don’t send us away to cower somewhere, Milord. Send us somewhere to do some good.”

 

At that, Arashi perks up, and tugs on Izumi’s sleeve. “I have an idea. In the West, there’s been an Ingling incursion, there’s always an Ingling incursion. A couple hundred men isn’t a lot, but it’s a lot more help than they’ll get otherwise.”

 

“And a couple hundred Northern men is the same as a thousand from anywhere else,” Izumi firmly says in agreement. “I’d never send you away to _cower_. I only want our women to have something to come home to. So if need be, you’ll go West. Help against the Inglings, while still staying safe from the monster here. Any complaints?”

 

“Aye, lots,” Dayton growls. “But we’ll obey, if it’s your will.”

 

“If it’s the King’s will,” another man speaks up. He’s older, one of the ones Izumi had brought back from the brink of death upon his arrival, scarred and gray-haired. “Dunno if this lad’ll be here when we get back.”

 

“Watch your tone, Korl,” Dayton snarls. “That’s your Lord you’re speaking to.”

 

“It isn’t. It’s my Lady’s son, innit? He’s no title up here.”

 

“If you believe that, then you should be more clear with your words, sir,” Izumi quietly says, unmoving where he stands. “Because you were quick to call me ‘Majesty’ when I healed your burns and soothed your lungs. If you’re unhappy with that, you’re free to head South, to the Capital’s King.”

 

Korl spits on the floor, bushy brows bristling over dark eyes. “That’s what I think of the Capitol you love so much. All of you, you’re so eager to go wherever the pretty lad says, this way or that? Where was he the last ten years? At the side of that pretty little girl-king of his, not serving Northern interests. You think just because you helped put my leg back on that I’ll let you do as you like with my home, boy?”

 

Dayton whirls on him, face dark. “Milord. Let me challenge him for you.”

 

“For the last ten years,” Izumi says, taking a step forward as he speaks over Dayton, holding up a hand for his silence, “I was by King Leo’s side, you’re right. I served as Captain of his Kingsguard, on his councils, the first Northerner to do either, _ever_ —because I wanted the North to have a damned _voice_ in the Capital for the first time! No, I wasn’t here, but if you want to tell me that I don’t give a damn about you or _our_ country, then I’ll cut your leg off again myself.”

 

“And what has it done for us?” the man roars, eyes red and wild. “You get to wear their fancy clothes and sit on their fancy chairs, and say it’s in our name—what has it done for us, for any of us? Let go of me, dammit, all of you, if he’s my King, he can bloody well answer, and if he ain’t, he’s got no right to order me out of my damn home!”

 

“Let him go, let him challenge me if he wants,” Izumi snaps back. “If you want to stay and rot in this Keep all winter, then do it, if you don’t want to listen to me! But I’m trying to save you and yours, whether you believe me or not. I could stand here and list every _single_ boring thing I’ve argued for the North in the Capital, from taxes to the price of pigs, but who the fuck cares about that when I’m trying to keep your head from being torn from your shoulders? Leave or stay, at least your wife will be safe.”

 

Arashi grabs Izumi’s arm, squeezing hard, whispering quickly into his ear. “Stop it, you’re not winning any of them over,” he hisses.”That’s not how a Lord talks to his people, that’s how a tyrant does it. Calm down, take a breath, and remember, you’re like their father, they don’t get a choice because you know more, you’ve got all the power over them.”

 

Izumi bristles at the touch, reflexively moving to shove Arashi away before he stops himself, albeit still tensed, still on edge. “…Lest you forget, I’m _asking_ you to leave, so that your women have something to come back to when this is all said and done,” he finally, stiffly adds. “So I can help Sena—the whole of the North—be the great Dominance it has always been. If you disagree, come talk to me in my chambers. Arashi, with me, please.”

 

He abruptly pulls away, striding briskly toward his room.

 

Arashi follows, shutting the big door behind himself, immediately holding up his hands. “I know, I know, they’re your people, I have no right to tell you how to deal with them,” he says reflexively. “I was just trying to help, but hit me or yell at me if you want, you’re right, I had no place doing that.”

 

“As you’ve pointed out half a dozen times just over the past couple of days, Northern men are _not_ the same as other men, and the North is completely different than anywhere else!” Izumi snaps, whirling on him. “Do you know what happens when we disagree? We fucking _fight_ each other, and yes, that includes lords and ladies! I’ve seen my mother draw her sword in an argument like that more times than I can count—do _not_ tell me I’m acting like a tyrant just because I’m not playing the pretty politics of the Capital and the West when I was _just_ scolded by a soldier I’ve known for years for doing that very thing for the past t-ten goddamn years—“

 

Izumi cuts himself off with a sharp breath, gritting his teeth as he turns partially away, scrubbing at his eyes. “Fuck you,” he wetly says. “I’m not crying, don’t l-look at me.”

 

Arashi sighs, and yanks Izumi close, kissing his hairline. “They want you,” he says softly into Izumi’s hair, one arm slung low around his waist. “They want you so badly, I know what it looks like to be a man who wants you, you know. Not as a lover, but they want you anyway, their own way.”

 

Izumi sniffs, wavers a moment longer, then promptly stuffs his face into Arashi’s chest with a wet, shuddering exhale. “I _hate_ being yelled at,” he miserably says, wrapping his arms around Arashi’s neck to hang there. “I like being right. I _know_ I’m right in this mess. Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you, I know y-you were trying to help.”

 

Arashi laughs softly, stroking Izumi’s hair, holding him close. “You really shouldn’t be Lord if you don’t want to be yelled at,” he teases gently. “It’s mostly being yelled at, I think.”

 

“D-doesn’t mean I have to like it. I’m allowed to be a Lord and still hate it.”

 

“Yes, yes, you’re allowed to hate it,” Arashi allows. “I am. I hate all of it, I hate making hard choices, I hate being forced to marry—I hate math most of all.”

 

“Gods, you’re so bad at math,” Izumi agrees with a wet, ragged laugh, rubbing his face down into Arashi’s chest. “So, so fucking bad at it.”

 

“Wow, suddenly it’s me that’s being attacked?”

 

“Yeah, you’re a bigger target.” Izumi sniffs, rocking back onto his heels to look up at Arashi, his eyes wet. “I don’t think I can leave now. Ever. Don’t hate me, Leo’s already going to hate me.”

 

“You’re just being dramatic,” Arashi protests, stroking Izumi’s hair. “Everything will settle down, and you’ll be bored, and you’ll be in the Capitol again by the Midsummer feasts.”

 

“And then I’ll lose my titles, because my mother will be done with me for good if I fuck off after this! Then what? I can’t marry the King without a title, I’m already a _man_ , I should at least have the decency to be his perfect match politically as if I were a woman,” Izumi bemoans, butting his head against Arashi’s hands. Cupcake makes that weird gurgling purr noise, and rubs up against both of their legs, making Izumi hiss reflexively. “And that thing touching you makes me nervous!”

 

“Don’t be a brute,” Arashi scolds, laying a hand on Cupcake’s head. “He’s trying to comfort you, you know. _He’s_ not being dramatic because some mean old man yelled at him. Leo isn’t going to give a shit if you have a title or whatever, and that’s just silly anyway, how are you supposed to marry a King if you’re a Lord? All the better if you have no title, I think.”

 

“Wrong,” is all Izumi settles upon tiredly, and he pulls away, throwing himself face first down into his pile of blankets. “Sorry. I just hate myself for being jealous about a snog, that’s all.”

 

“And I don’t know anything about royalty or noble lines,” Arashi says with a sigh, gathering Cupcake close. “Look, about the snog. This…this is going to sound really stupid.”

 

“Go on.” Izumi raises a hand, then lets it flop down uselessly. “Everything else is stupid, what’s one more thing.”

 

“Ever since…you know…hasn’t he been…different? Doesn’t kind of remind you of…” Arashi flushes deep pink, looking away. “Tell me I’m an idiot, but doesn’t he remind you a little of Mika, lately?”

 

The snog makes that horrific little purring noise again, and rubs his head underneath Arashi’s chin, as affectionate and gentle as any cat. Izumi lifts his head, pushes himself up onto an elbow, and stares, eyes lidded. “Yeah,” he says. “You’re an idiot. Mika was always meaner, you dipshit.”

 

There’s a sudden flash of genuine anger in Arashi’s face, but he stamps it down, ears flushing pink. “Sorry. Maybe you’re right. I mean, obviously you’re right, but…look, he’s so much smarter than he used to be. Cupcake, hand,” he says firmly, holding out his own hand.

 

Cupcake immediately flops one of his weird, claw-paws into Arashi’s grasp.

 

“It was a joke, don’t give me that look,” Izumi sighs, twisting around and sitting up again, raking his hands back through his hair. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe that is Mika. I wouldn’t even put it past the universe at this point to do something that strange. I tried to ask my father about…what happened up here, with another village. The thing I told you about with everyone being put into magical comas.”

 

“And?” Arashi asks sharply, slowly massaging the odd, claw-paw-like foot, poking at the little pads on the bottom. “What did he say? If we can find out anything, anything…”

 

“Just that the thing that did it—a Drude, or whatever it’s called, I’ll have to ask Ritsu about it—probably controlled the Inglings and was the cause behind it. Then he told me I was having sex wrong. Useless, more or less.” Izumi shakes his head. “Shu thinks I’m the only thing that can fix him, you know. I just…wish I knew where to start.”

 

“Shu isn’t a prophet,” Arashi says gently, stroking Cupcake’s foot sweetly. “He’s as desperate as you are, and you have magic he doesn’t understand. Magic he _does_ understand has failed him. Hell, maybe if you have sex right, you’ll be able to fix him—see, I’m as desperate to think of a way for you to help as they are, no matter how stupid it is.”

 

“Do you want to know, apparently, what the correct way to have sex is?”

 

“Is it with a man-mate, perhaps?”

 

“Apparently,” Izumi archly says, “it’s with a _woman._ Because I’ve _never_ heard that before. Come, man-mate, bring your snog, and that Icewine.”

 

“Yay, Icewine!” Arashi follows at Izumi’s heels, reaching out to grab his cloak. “Where are we off to?”

 

“To the stables, so I can fuck in peace and not be interrupted by the men I invited to come to my door if they had complaints. But you’ll notice,” Izumi says, hauling himself to his feet as well, “that they did _not_ come with complaints.”

 

“Yes, yes, the North is very different and very…muscley. And hairy.”

 

“Aren’t you grateful I’m neither?” Izumi sweetly says, and yanks open the door. “Better plan. We’re going to the Academy outpost. We can fuck there, _and_ I can send a few missives without using up poor Yuukun’s energy. I think it’s time I let both the King, and a few Nightcloaks know what I found out.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

Leo disappears in the middle of the night. Some rumors say it was on a dragon, but Tsukasa thinks that’s absolutely ridiculous.

 

Or he would, if it weren’t King Leo.

 

For better or for worse, that means that Lord Tsukasa of the Suou family, husband of Princess Ruka, and by that, the King’s brother by blood, is left in charge. In a way, that’s a relief for everyone. The council always seems to function much more easily when _he_ is running it and not the Squirrel King, and in this case, it does seem to be much safer for Leo to disappear on a dragon than to be in the Capital.

 

That being said, it’s worrisome to end up receiving messages meant for the king that are from his…well. His as-of-yet unannounced betrothed.

 

Tsukasa, however, always comes up with solutions. This solution seems simple enough, when no others are reachable to give him a second opinion (and that’s not his fault, that’s theirs, down to His Excellency Shu locking the door to his chamber and refusing to leave, the fussy prick). Tsukasa huffs, stalking his way down the wide halls, knocking once, briskly, upon His Excellency Lord Tori’s assigned chambers—the chambers assigned to him since his appointment within the Capital some years ago.

 

“It’s past noon, you should be awake by now,” he offers as he opens up the door, and the sight that greets him is—troublesome. Tsukasa freezes, fingers dropping from the door handle to the hilt of his sword automatically at the sight of the newest addition to the King’s High Council, a Lord from the East from the Tomoe house—one Lord Hiyori, sharing tea with the bratty heir-apparent to the Himemiya household. “…Milord, Excellency,” he curtly greets. “Good afternoon to you both.”

 

“Go away,” Tori says haughtily, then casts a look at his guest, and changes his mind. “Never mind, ugh. I guess you can stay, even if you’re a boring gross dusty fussy stupid pretender.”

 

“Wow! All of that at once, you must be very special to our Excellency, Mister Suou Sir!” Hiyori of the Tomoe Lands is an odd duck, even for the Capitol. Hair floats around his head as if gravity doesn’t seem important to it, and he clutches a teacup with one hand, the other absently fiddling with the flowers standing in a gaudy, golden vase on the table. He sips his tea, then makes a face. “Ugh, I must get you some from our island, it’s much better than this swill.”

 

 _Save me_ , Tori mouths, then goes back to sulking and sipping his tea. “This guy is acting as the king right now,” he says begrudgingly to Hiyori. “So I guess you should show him more respect. Not as much as you show me, though. I’m way more important, I’m a wizard, and my family is way richer than his.”

 

Tsukasa’s gaze is still sharp, still wary, watching Hiyori as he lingers a pace from the door. “My apologies that the tea isn’t to your taste, Lord Hiyori. Perhaps someone from the kitchens can make you a fresh pot? I’m afraid,” he says, stepping from the door, and pulling it open wider, “that I have business with His Excellency. _Private_ business. From the Academy. If you don’t mind?”

 

“I’ll go bother the kitchens, then,” Hiyori says cheerfully, and stands, reaching a hand down to ruffle Tori’s hair aggressively as the younger man hisses. “I’ll be back, we have a lot more to talk about. Thanks for the tea, even if it was really bad and gross!”

 

Then he’s gone, and Tori slumps down into his chair, rubbing his own hair. “He’s so freaky! Why’s he always smiling? What’s so fucking funny? Shit!”

 

Tsukasa shoves the door shut, bolting and locking it thrice-over. “Because he’s from the East. Nothing trustworthy comes from the East, you know that.” He frowns, turning back towards Tori, looking him up and down as if he’ll see any of the magic that might have possibly been cast over him. Certainly, Tori would notice before him, but it’s still worrisome. “Are you all right? He didn’t do…anything inappropriate?”

 

“Everything he does is inappropriate,” Tori huffs, folding his arms and kicking his feet, swinging them over the side of the chair. “He touched my hair! Why do we even _have_ an East, what’s the point? Those islands are too far, they’re dumb and gross like he is.”

 

“Your hair looks fine,” Tsukasa murmurs, even as he reaches forward to smooth it instinctively _for_ Tori. A strand pops up and off of his head regardless, and Tsukasa sighs, rocking back onto his heels. “He didn’t ask anything strange? Or for anything…odd…from you?”

 

Green eyes flicker open, and Tori lets out a huff, blowing his hair away from his face. “He just asked me a lot of dumb questions that anyone would know if they knew anything! Like what a wizard is? And what the point of money is, and why it’s better to have more of it? What the heck! Pet me, I’m cute.”

 

Now feeling like _he’s_ the one blowing things out of proportion—he’s _not_ , he’s been warned and briefed about the situation at length—Tsukasa heaves a mighty sigh before collapsing down into the chair previously occupied by Hiyori, and begrudgingly reaching over to pat Tori’s head. “He’s a complete imbecile. Fortunately, you won’t have to deal with him for much longer.”

 

“Good!”

 

Growing immediately bored with the petting, Tori slides out of his seat and climbs onto Tsukasa’s lap, straddling his thighs. “Because you’re going to restore my ranks and titles and I’ll be able to tell him to fuck off, now that you’re acting Regent, right? If you say yes, I’ll suck on it before you put it in.”

 

Tsukasa falters, fumbling for words for a moment before he scoffs, leans back, and folds his arms over his chest. “The assumption I’m here to entertain _you_ is hilarious. No, Excellency, I have an assignment for you.”

 

“Ehhh? An assignment?” Tori pouts, and withdraws his hands, which were starting to slide from Tsukasa’s firm chest downwards. “Like, going somewhere? That sounds really like…too much work. I’ll send Yuzuru. I mean, I’d be the best at it for sure, but I’m busy. And I’m a wizard, you can’t send me anywhere.”

 

“It’s a very _important_ assignment. An assignment only a wizard can do.” Tsukasa cocks his head, looking up at him. “Are you telling me you don’t want to go somewhere interesting? Just the other day, you were complaining that the Capital was booo~ring, that a lord like yourself should be able to travel…”

 

“The Capitol is totally boring! I should go somewhere, I’d be great at it.” Tori scowls up at him. “Give it to me. Gimme the assignment, Rei can’t tell me what to do.”

 

Sometimes, Tori is _too_ easy. “You’re to head North to assist Lord Izumi. I believe you two are…friends, correct?”

 

“Ew! The North?” Tori looks aghast. “Isn’t it…really cold? I heard all the men are hairy, that doesn’t sound like the place for me, they’ll think I’m a pretty girl because I’m better looking than all of them! You want me to get _raped_?”

 

“They will absolutely think that you’re a pretty girl,” Tsukasa says, reaching around to give Tori’s ass a swift, unapologetic pinch. “But Northerners are inexplicably kind. You won’t get raped. You will, however, be cold if you don’t pack appropriately. Ah, but if you don’t want an important job, I suppose I can find someone else. It’s just—I _was_ going to make a point of having your titles reinstated, but without a solid record of service for the realm and your past history, that sort of thing is…difficult…”

 

Tori’s eyes light up. “Wait, really? I was being silly, but it’s really possible?” He gives an experimental wiggle, squeezing his thighs around Tsukasa’s. “I could be _Lord Wizard_ , doesn’t that sound awesome? You’d have to suck me off a _lot_ after that, but I’ll let you do stuff, too.” He licks his lips, looking around. “It’s not a secret mission, is it? I mean, I can bring servants, right?”

 

“Servant.” Tsukasa holds up a single finger, though his other hand remains firm on Tori’s ass, so help him. “One. I can guess which one you’d like to bring. Normally, I wouldn’t allow it, but it’s paramount that you have some protection. It’s still somewhat unclear what sort of creature Lord Izumi is facing.”

 

“I’d prefer to bring you,” Tori says quietly, and leans forward to bite the tip of Tsukasa’s finger. “You’re…not that bad with a sword. But I guess you gotta be Regent for now, until that weird guy comes back on his dragon.”

 

“Unfortunately, I am the King Regent for now, yes.” It’s still sort of…endearing, to be told that he’s been chosen over the Himemiya family’s most loyal of servants, and Tsukasa gently taps his finger against Tori’s lips. “But I’ll be sure to stay in touch. A Capital wizard being shipped up North isn’t an ideal situation, but I do think this will allow you to actually use your talents, more or less.”

 

“Not ideal,” Tori echoes, and nods to himself, looking self-satisfied. “Because you’ll miss me. Everyone will. They’d be stupid not to. But especially you.”

 

“Hmm. I’ll miss your ass.”

 

“You’ll miss _every_ part of me,” Tori insists, and slaps Tsukasa’s shoulder. “Admit it!”

 

“Was that supposed to hurt? You hit like a girl. All right, I’ll miss the way you look like one.”

 

Tori scowls. “You have one more chance before I go tell your pretty wife that you made fun of the way she squeals in bed.”

 

Tsukasa stares up at him, aghast. “You’re a liar. I never said that. I make fun of the way _you_ squeal in bed!”

 

Tori smirks. “She doesn’t need to know that. She’ll believe me. I’m cute. So go on, try one more time. What are you going to miss about me?”

 

Tsukasa scowls back at him before simply standing, hoisting Tori up like he weighs absolutely nothing, and throws him back into the very large, very cushioned pile of his bed. “I already told you,” he forwardly says, tugging open the top button of his jacket’s collar as he strides over. “Your ass.”

 

“You’re an awful brute,” Tori shrieks, though he’s already tearing open his own trousers, wriggling out of them. “This is what the military does to men, makes them…mm, brutish, and _wicked_ , and going to take what you want no matter what I say!”

 

Tsukasa rolls his eyes as he sets a knee onto the bed, unbuckling his sword to set it aside before he deftly flips Tori over with one hand. It’s easy; he’s tiny, and no matter how he kicks and squirms, not much comes of it. “What I will _not_ miss is you shrieking. Keep your voice down, Excellency,” he murmurs as he leans over Tori from behind, his breath hot against the back of Tori’s neck. “Or we’ll be interrupted before we even get a chance to start.”

 

Tori shakes his head, then yanks his trousers down, shoving his ass back against Tsukasa’s hips, looking back over his shoulder. “Maybe that’s true in drafty old towers,” he groans, already reaching down to palm his cock, swiftly hardening between his thighs. “Like the kinds your family can afford. _My_ father made us a tower with proper soundproof walls, so quit complaining and get in me already!”

 

“Probably because he knew what a hussy of a son he had,” Tsukasa says with a snort, and he reaches up and over Tori to his bedside table, plucking up a familiar bottle. He one-handedly unbuttons the fastenings to his trousers, shoving them down just enough to pull his cock out and slick it with oil. He tosses the bottle aside, wraps an arm around Tori’s waist, and hauls him back, letting his slick cock slide between the cheeks of his ass with a hitching sigh. “Ask _nicely_. You’re speaking to the King Regent, brat.”

 

“I should be the King Regent,” Tori whines, shifting to get his knees apart, wiggling his pert ass, rubbing it up and down that surprisingly thick shaft. “I’m more noble than you, I’m better than you in every way…if not…maybe…”

 

His face flushes, and he drops it to the bed. “Except for your prick. Gimme.”

 

That’s nice enough. Tsukasa shifts, rubbing the head of his cock against that hole, and decides he’s had enough of waiting. One long, thorough shove is all it takes to fully sheath himself in that tight ass, spreading Tori open as a hand slides up between his shoulderblades, pushing him down to the bed, pinning him there as he grinds in with a hard thrust of his hips. “Better than me in every way?” he pants out, circling a hand around and up to pinch one of Tori’s nipples. “When you’re facedown like this, you just look like a whore.”

 

“Ow, ow, too fast!” Tori squeals, writhing on Tsukasa’s fat cock, eyes rolling back into his head. It drags pleasure out of him with that first, perfect thrust, stuffing him full until he gasps for air. “You’re so mean to me, gimme more, more, y-you should be spoiling me!” He grabs one of Tsukasa’s hands, dragging it down to his hard cock, leaving the one on his nipples.

 

Tsukasa snorts out a laugh, and he gives Tori’s cock a slow, soft squeeze, stroking him from root to tip as he shifts his weight forward, angling to better fuck in and wring that whiny little squeal out of Tori’s throat again. “I’m mean to you? But you’re so _hard_ , Excellency,” he says on a groan, tweaking that nipple again. “So you must like it. What are you going to _do_ in the North, when no one’s there to fuck you stupid?”

 

“M-maybe I’ll get some, some pretty…” Tori gasps, floundering for words when his body is on fire, feeling like his mind is melting into a puddle. Liquid heat floods through him with every stroke, and he claws at the bed, marking up his fine linens. “M-maybe I’ll get a Northern man, he’s not worthy but maybe they, they have nice cocks, maybe they’ll do what I say—“

 

A sharp slap echoes across the room when Tsukasa’s hand connects with Tori’s round ass, leaving a red handprint in its wake. “Wrong answer,” he breathes, thrusting in harder, yanking Tori back onto his cock when he shoves in. “No one’s—allowed to fuck you—but me.”

 

The yelp Tori lets out is indignant, disbelieving—and followed by a throaty, undulating groan of pleasure. “F-fuck,” he swears, the filthy words feeling natural on his tongue when Tsukasa is so far inside of him, yanking him around and stuffing him full, making his eyes cross in bliss. “Fuck, fuck—f-fine, yeah! I’ll just—be horny and wanting you the whole time, is that what you want to hear?”

 

Rather than approving with words, Tsukasa settles on fucking him harder.

 

Tori can feel this for the next week, at least—and Tsukasa hopes he does. Each thrust makes skin slap against skin, sticking together with sweat for a moment before he fucks in again, with Tsukasa’s hands mercilessly pulling him back, forcing him to take every inch of his cock. “Much—better—“ he grunts, bent over Tori’s back when he finally comes with a gasp, flooding Tori’s body with pulse after pulse. “I hope,” he breathes into Tori’s ear, mouthing a warm kiss to the side of his neck, “that you’re still dripping by the time you get up there, and can’t stop thinking about how you want me to fuck you again.”

 

Tori lets out a long, slow whine, stretching out all of his limbs, squeezing his ass down on Tsukasa’s pulsing, softening cock as he pants for breath. “I already…want you to fuck me again,” he moans, turning his head to yank Tsukasa down into a filthy kiss. Then his hand drops, and he flops facedown, trying to catch his breath. “That was a good one.”

 

Whoever taught Tori to kiss—well, Tsukasa doesn’t want to think too much about that, but every damned time, it makes his cock twitch. He sags down with a low, rumbling groan, stroking a hand through the now thoroughly mussed head of pink hair. “You never want me to get back to work,” he murmurs. “Slut.”

 

Tori lets out a huge, rude yawn, right in Tsukasa’s face. “Hidebound old fusspot. You should be thanking me on your knees for…nnh, fuck it. That was _really_ good.”

 

“A going away present,” Tsukasa says, giving Tori’s ass another, absent slap just to watch it jiggle before he slowly pulls out. “You really are a mess. Do I need to call your servant to make sure you’re cleaned up?”

 

“Yes,” Tori says firmly, laying exactly where he’s left, dripping and sore and aching deliciously. “You’d better give me maps and stuff, I’ve never been North. I don’t wanna get eaten by bears.” He pauses, then adds, “Not that bears care if you have maps. Just make sure the bear spots are marked.”

 

“I’ll make sure you’re thoroughly briefed, don’t worry,” Tsukasa reassures him, tucking himself back into his trousers and neatly doing up his collar. “I’ve heard the biggest threat up there is man-eating cows, actually.”

 

“That’s definitely a lie,” Tory says with another yawn. “And if it was true, I’d blast ‘em out of the sky with my magic. Or. You know. Out of the field.” He rolls onto his side, blinking slowly, watching Tsukasa’s nice arms move. ”How’s your lady?”

 

“I’m just repeating what Captain Arashi said. He’s seen quite a bit of the North, you know, so you should take his word for it. Man-eating cows, sheep, loads of those…disgusting little snake-dog things…” Tsukasa shivers, making a face as he buckles his sword back into place. “Lady Ruka is quite well.” He pauses, grimaces, and glances back towards the locked door, as if still nervous someone will come through. “Doing more of her duty than the king himself is,” he grouses. “We’ll have a child before he does. Not on purpose, mind, but…”

 

Tori frowns, then flaps a hand. “Go put a baby in her already, you _can’t_ think I’m jealous. I was raised in a noble house too, you know. And if I wasn’t a wizard, I’d already have _two_ for sure. And they’d be smarter than yours.”

 

“I already did. She’s pregnant. Repeat that,” Tsukasa warns, “and I won’t fuck you for a month after you come back. What do you mean, yours would be smarter than mine? You wouldn’t even know how to put it in a woman.”

 

“I would so! I’ve put it in a woman!” Tori protests, sitting up enough to kneel on the bed, arms folded. “Father bought me a woman when I was old enough.” He pauses, then adds, “Congratulations. I hope it’s cute. Its hair is going to be, just, _so_ red.”

 

“Just because you’ve put it in a woman doesn’t mean you’re _good at it_ ,” Tsukasa snidely says, leaning over to muss Tori’s sweaty hair with one hand. “As red as the royal family’s meant to be. Ah, I hope this isn’t why the king took off,” he frets, continuing to pet Tori’s head without really realizing it. “If he somehow got wind of this, and decided to leave for good…”

 

Tori makes a face. “I hope he doesn’t. It’s one thing sneaking around with you, but if my father found out I was sneaking around with the _king_ , it would get all weird. Mm, you’d be good at it, though. Not as good as I’d be, but I’m a wizard. Out of the running. Not eligible……..You’re going to eat a cake, aren’t you?”

 

“ _No_ ,” Tsukasa defensively says, jerking his hand away. “And even if I was, I’m not sharing it with you. Don’t even _joke_ about me becoming the king. Even just fixing King Leo’s messes is a nightmare.”

 

“But you’d be all right at it.” The admission might be begrudging, but that’s mostly because he’s starting to get cold and sticky. “Go get my manslave, I wanna get clean and warm. When do I have to go? I mean, when does the North get graced with my most excellent presence?”

 

“By the end of tomorrow.” Tsukasa lingers by a mirror for a moment, finger-combing his own mussed hair before deftly tying the length of it up into a neat ponytail at the back of his head. “I have meetings through the afternoon, but I’ll stop by again tonight to make sure you’re fully briefed on the situation. Also—don’t let that Easterner come in here again.”

 

“I can’t stop him! He just came in! My guards didn’t even see him, he’s freaky!” Tori’s gaze looks up, then down, and he bites his lip. “I changed my mind. Leave that ponytail on and come fuck me again before you go.”

 

“There they are, the whore roots of the Himemiya family,” Tsukasa taunts, turning back to offer Tori a smirk. “Later, I said. And I’ll tell _Yuzuru_ to make sure that Easterner doesn’t bother you again, that should do the trick. I’ll send him in shortly, so _try_ to suppress your tendencies, for his sake.”

 

“Fuck you! You piece of shit!” Tori grabs a decorative dog figurine—those turn up _everywhere_ in the Academy and Capitol these days—and hurls it at Tsukasa’s face. “Get out! I hate you! And visit me before I go!”

 

Tsukasa catches it with a smile, offering Tori a mocking little bow before he moves to the door. “Have a lovely afternoon, Excellency. Try not to drip on too much furniture while you wait for your servant.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

This isn’t how Kaoru wanted to see Kanata again.

 

He can’t deny that the Wavebred _has_ been in his thoughts, far more than is proper for a young Paladin—or a Paladin of any age, he supposes. He’s not exactly young, by his own people’s reckoning, but he’s far from old. Of course, he’s spent most of his years shacking up with a demon of the worst possible sort, so he’s not exactly a shining example of Paladinkind.

 

So maybe his family wouldn’t be especially shocked to find him in High Harbor again after all this time, clad in his ancestral robes from the long and weirdly demon-filled journey, standing tall and proud as holy sigils spiral onto the sand, curling down from his cloak, blessing the area behind his footprints. Those footprints end at a crumpled form, wet with seawater, and Kaoru kneels, gently lifting the mangled form of a person into his arms.

 

Several hours later, Kaoru watches the crumpled form, surrounded by enough holy sigils and plastered with enough healing ointments and oils to smother a man. His bed in the castle of High Harbor is still soft and plush, with a clean white bedspread, the doors sealed shut by all the magic and heavy furniture he can drag. At the first stirring, Kaoru sits up, blinking bleary eyes, hands tightening on the hilt of his sword in one hand, the beaded bracelet in the other. “Kanata? Can you hear me?”

 

When Kanata stirs, what greets him first isn’t Kaoru’s voice, but a sharp burst of pain behind his eyes that makes him inhale fast and hard.

 

That makes it worse. It’s not water that he breathes, but air, and not registering that at first makes him cough and retch, twisting where he lays, gasping when that just rips new kinds of pains through him and leaves him clutching at the bedsheets with broken nails.

 

“W…ho…” Kanata’s eyes are slitted, cloudy green when they flutter open, and the sight of the first holy sigil makes his heart pound in a new, fresh kind of panic.

 

“Shh, easy,” Kaoru says quickly, swiftly tracing a finger over a sigil of calming, traced in white on Kanata’s chest. “It’s me, it’s me. You remember, right? It’s Kaoru. The bad paladin. You’re not a captive.”

 

Kanata trembles, eyes wide as he throws out a hand to grab onto Kaoru’s wrist, clinging tightly to him. “You’re…blurry,” he manages to whisper, unable to put another description to the way the world twists and bends to his eyes. “It hurts. Was there…anyone else…?”

 

“You were alone.” Kaoru kneels on the side of the bed, dispelling several sigils, stroking a hand down Kanata’s hair and cheek. “I asked a friend for a reading, he told me you’d wash up on the shore and need me. I came as fast as I could.”

 

It takes a moment for all of that to process, and Kanata’s eyes suddenly fill, the salt of them stinging over the cut on his opposite cheek. He opens his mouth to say something, but cuts himself off when outside, an enormous, tell-tale flare of magic rattles the entire manor on its frame.

 

Directly over the nearby ocean is nothing but a landscape of runes, glowing black and purple, an enormous circle that slowly shrinks, and remains a pinpoint, coalesced spot of power thrumming just beneath the surface of the waves.

 

Kanata doesn’t see any of that—but he feels it, the sudden _drop_ in magical pressure about the area that makes him sag into the bed as if his strings were cut. He whimpers, and twists to bury his face down into a pillow. “Where’s…Chiaki?” he whispers.

 

Kaoru stares out the window, doom and dread sinking in around him. “I don’t know,” he says, eyes fixed on the ocean outside. “I came right to the beach, for you. I got my pretty clothes on and everything. Shit, what the fuck is that? That…that isn’t what I think it is, is it? Tell me I’m stupid.”

 

Kanata just huffs out a wet breath, uninterested in vocalizing details when everything _hurts_ , and talking takes way too much effort otherwise.

 

There’s a scrabbling _thud_ onto Kaoru’s balcony, and the head of an enormous grey wolf, easily the size of a horse, shoves its way into the open window that Kaoru was just staring out of. _You’ve got the place locked down like a fort_ , comes Koga’s voice directly into Kaoru’s mind, golden eyes fixed on him. _So he can’t come in without hurtin’ you. Loosen up a bit, dumb priest._

 

Kaoru looks up and snarls, more out of reaction than anything else. “I didn’t know what was after him,” he says, rather annoyed, and stands, dragging a finger through a dozen of the wards on the door. “Bring him in, good doggie.”

 

Koga bares his teeth in a low, rumbling growl before leaping back off the balcony again, landing onto the ground below with a dull _thump_.

 

Only a moment passes before he’s back up onto the balcony, Rei on his back. Rei slides off, opening the balcony door before giving Koga a nod. The wolf circles twice before flopping down at the balcony entrance, ears pricked forward as if trained upon the ocean itself.

 

“My apologies for not coming sooner,” Rei quietly says, making his way across the room in simple, dark traveling clothes, his hair twisted up into a mess of a braid that falls thickly down to the small of his back. “I put a temporary seal down, to make sure nothing else leaks into the sea.”

 

Kanata says nothing, but he does settle somewhat at the sight of Rei, and huddles down into the bed, shivering. Rei sighs, and glances to Kaoru. “You did well to come help him. Unfortunately, my best and most capable healer is in the North, and my second best…well, is the one in need of healing.”

 

“I’m taking care of it,” Kaoru assures him, and spreads more unguent ointment on Kanata’s wounds, slicking one of the deep gashes closed again. “Whatever needs to be done until he’s healed, I’m your man. Or his, however you want that to work. Rei…what I just saw, over the ocean…” He swallows hard. “It looked like the Sorrow’s Gate.”

 

“No, it looked like my magic _closing_ a Sorrow’s Gate,” Rei mildly corrects, pulling up a nearby chair and taking a seat into it. “You’ll never see the magic of a Sorrow’s Gate, and that’s what makes them so dangerous. The only thing you’ll ever see are others opening it, or closing it, but not the magic of the gate itself. Troublesome.”

 

“You can’t close it forever,” Kaoru whispers. “If something forced it open, it’s still there, is it on the other side? White holy gods, why is there a Sorrow’s Gate in the ocean?”

 

“I’m aware I can’t close it forever. That’s why I said it was a temporary seal.” Rei blinks over at him. “You sound very much like a priest when you’re stressed. Ah, well—if I’m being blunt about it, there’s always been a Sorrow’s Gate there.” He grimaces. “I suspect it’s been leaking for longer than we’ve all realized; the last seal Eichi and I put onto it lasted quite awhile.”

 

“Is this true?” Kaoru asks Kanata, trying to keep the horror from his voice. “Your people, is this what they’ve been fighting? Is this what hurt you, the Inglings?”

 

“Not just…Inglings.” Kanata’s eyes slide shut again, and he huddles up slowly around a pillow, trembling as he breathes in deep.

 

“Inglings have been leaking out for awhile, yes,” Rei softly fills in, lacing his fingers together in his lap. “But other, more nefarious things—that’s what we’re facing now. Not just here—but in the West, in the North.”

 

Kaoru looks between them for a moment, as if they’re suddenly going to start making sense. When they don’t, he sighs, and reaches up to tie his hair back. “Well, then. Good thing I’m here. I can kill the Gate.” The fact that his voice doesn’t tremble is proof that not all of those acting lessons had been a waste, _Dad_.

 

Rei looks back at him, impassive. “No, you can’t.”

 

“I want Chiaki,” Kanata petulantly mumbles, curling up around that pillow even more.

 

“Walk with me?” Rei suddenly suggests, climbing to his feet. “Let’s find him his bonded, and we can talk. Koga is guarding him, and with your wards, it should be fine.”

 

Kaoru looks over at Koga, and exhales deeply. “Send for me the second he asks for me. Kanata, I’m going to find your sweet Captain. Rest easy, all right? You need to be rested well to welcome him.”

 

Kanata nods dimly, not entirely hearing—or if he is, not entirely processing—and Rei glances back to Koga, holding his gaze to continue their own, silent conversation. “You’ve done well in healing him,” he quietly says as he leads the way to the door, “but he might require more care. We’ll know if his magic can catch up and do the rest of the work within the next day.”

 

“He can,” Kaoru says firmly. “I already felt it reaching up to meet my spells. None of my spells should have been that effective, so he must have been helping me.” He takes a deep breath, looking back over his shoulder as they leave. “I don’t ever want to see him that messed up again. And yes, thanks for the _vote of confidence_ , I can close the Sorrow’s Gate.”

 

“You’re quite infatuated with him, aren’t you?” It’s flippant, a throwaway question that might sound somewhat jealous if coming from any other person, and Rei doesn’t wait for a response before he continues. “Maybe you can close it with great harm unto yourself, or even death, but I don’t see that as a helpful sacrifice.”

 

“You have another holy knight ready to throw himself into a Sorrow’s Gate stashed in your pocket?” Kaoru asks archly. “I don’t want to do this, but it _is_ sort of my duty. Fuck, my hands are shaking, I hate this. Put it back, I don’t want to know about this thing existing here anymore. Don’t talk to me about it for at least a day, let me have a nice day.”

 

“The last time it started bleeding, the previous Emperor and I took care of it and two others without you or any other holy knight even noticing.”

 

Rei reaches out, grabbing Kaoru’s hands between his own, giving them a firm squeeze as he holds them. “Forget about it,” he quietly says. “It’s being handled. Wataru and Natsume are in the West. I’m here. Soon, it appears as though I’ll be in the North as well, if Wataru doesn’t beat me to that as well. This happens from time to time; demons are a troublesome lot, you know?”

 

Kaoru relaxes slightly, squeezing Rei’s hands, nodding slowly. “All right. All right. Believe me, I don’t want to do this. Just tell me what I need to do. I’ve followed you until now, I’ll keep doing it. Just…tell me that this isn’t going to cost other people their lives. If my life saves theirs…I have to do it, you know? That’s why I was born.”

 

“I could’ve sworn you were born to be a messy lord of High Harbor. Though I have to admit, I do enjoy this dutiful side of you.”

 

“It’s all your fault,” Kaoru complains, dropping Rei’s hands and turning to walk down the hall. “I was totally content to be a wastrel before I met some demon arse who had all these stupid notions about helping people instead of just demanding tributes.”

 

“It certainly would be _easier_ to just demand tribute,” Rei laments, trailing after Kaoru. His eyes scan the familiar halls of the High Harbor estate, contemplating. “At this hour, Captain Morisawa is probably on patrol. It’s unlikely we’ll find him without sending a messenger for him. It might be wise to wait another hour or two, however; if he sees Kanata looking like that…well.”

 

Rei reaches out, idly plucking at a long strand of Kaoru’s hair where it trails down his back. “You’re not scolding me, even though you know _just Inglings_ couldn’t do that to a nearly full-blooded, Nightcloaked creature.”

 

“Maybe I’m wrong.” Kaoru’s voice is almost a whisper, though he forces a smile, moving to lean over the railing, watching the waves crash on the shore. “Maybe Kanata’s a terrible fighter. Maybe he got caught off guard. And maybe that’s a little Sorrow’s Gate like the one you sealed, and it can totally be sealed without sacrifice. Come on, it would be a great day for me to be wrong about things.”

 

“He is something of a terrible fighter,” Rei says, putting his back to the railing and leaning against it. “Mm, and he was certainly caught off guard. You’re adorable for thinking the gates we sealed were small, and were done without sacrifice, back in the day. No Sorrow’s Gates are ever little, or quiet, or kind. That doesn’t mean I want you involved.”

 

Kaoru’s face sours immediately, and he turns on Rei, expression dark. “You said it could be done without death. I didn’t go through all that gods-damned training to have my life protected by you, or to let other people die for my duty.”

 

“I didn’t say it could be done without death. You asked me to say that, and I said nothing.” Rei’s head tilts back with a sigh. “Kaoru. People have already died. I don’t need another sacrifice to add to the pyre.”

 

“Because you love me,” Kaoru says softly, and steps closer to Rei, resting his head on Rei’s shoulder. “I don’t want to die, you know. But knowing other people are dying for me…”

 

“Yes, because I love you. But also,” Rei lowly says, sliding his arms around Kaoru’s waist, pulling him into his chest. “Because you’re a good person. If I need a sacrifice, I’ll take it from someone who is everything but that.”

 

“That,” Kaoru says quietly, a little sadly, “is the kind of thing that reminds me you’re a demon, deep down. Rei, you don’t get to decide who’s a good person and who’s not. And a normal person’s soul won’t seal a Sorrow’s Gate. A Paladin’s will shut it forever, and take all the demons with it to death.”

 

“Maybe. If there weren’t three of them opening simultaneously. There aren’t three of you, Kaoru; even if you were to close one, that won’t solve the problem, so why don’t you wait before you sacrifice yourself so nobly for your cause?” Rei sighs, leaning back into the railing again, dragging Kaoru with him with his hands on his hips. “And don’t tell me you’ll call up your brother, your sister, your father—if I have paladins descending on this problem, I’ll be dead soon enough, too, and that won’t do. Will you trust me?”

 

“Rei…”

 

Kaoru rests his forehead on Rei’s shoulder, his own back tense with anxiety. “If you didn’t love me, you’d agree that it was the best option. Even fat recluses that hide in their mountains and wait for tributes would gladly jump into a Sorrow’s Gate to seal it. Every second, it’ll grow, and more of the world itself will be ripped apart, you have to know that. So if you didn’t love me…you’d let me, wouldn’t you?”

 

“Mmnn…no. Even if I didn’t love you, if you were someone that had served me, or was my friend, I wouldn’t let you. I wouldn’t let you even if you were just some random paladin, unless you’d harmed me in the past. As paladins are apt to do,” Rei dryly adds, stroking a hand slowly over Kaoru’s hair. “If you try to toss yourself on that gate, I will stop you myself.”

 

“But if twenty of us go up against it fighting, and half of us die—and that’s being very conservative and factoring in two Nightcloaks at the top of their ability—is that somehow better?” Kaoru closes his eyes, pushing his head against that hand. “Help me understand how that’s better.”

 

“It might not require _any_ fighting, or any Nightcloaks stamping it down again.” Rei’s fingers curl against Kaoru’s scalp, gently dragging his nails against it. “Last time, it was a rush job, and we weren’t aware of any named demons behind the push to come into this realm. This time…one of them is already in the Capital. The others are up North. I’m fairly certain if I cankick them back to the hellscape that they came from, their sycophants will run scurrying home as well.”

 

Kaoru squeezes his eyes tightly shut, trying to block out the dark, sickly pulsing energy throbbing in his mind from towards the ocean. “I can’t let it stay open. People are going to die every day—Wavebred are going to die every _second_ , aren’t you the one who cares about them so much? When are you going to defeat this demon?”

 

“You’re _not_ listening to me.” Rei’s hands move, grasping at Kaoru’s face, lifting it up to make him look at him. “I said I sealed it temporarily. Nothing else is bleeding out into those waters right now—do you understand me? If you don’t believe me, go check it yourself. As for the demon—I can’t do it yet. He’s too close to the king. I already have Shu there, I already have…other…assistants there, however, and it’ll be taken care of as soon as it’s safe.”

 

Kaoru stares into Rei’s face, searching for something, some reassurance, some conviction to make him understand, and slowly breathes out a sigh of relief. “All right. All right. I’ll trust you. But I’ll stay here. And if the Sorrow’s Gate opens again, and you’re still not back…you know what I have to do. I can’t do otherwise and still be myself. Is that a deal?”

 

“That _is_ why I love you, I suppose,” Rei wryly says, squishing Kaoru’s cheeks a bit more. “You’re so mean to me. Locking me out, accusing me of being a disgusting, scheming demon, threatening to kill yourself, tossing me out onto the streets…”

 

“Yes, I’m the worst,” Kaoru agrees readily, shoving his face forward to steal a kiss. “My awful demon wife, who spurns me for a wizard, forces me to travel with my sworn enemies, keeps me as a dirty secret, and accuses me of being _like my family,_ worst of all.”

 

“When did I say you were like your family? I said you sounded like a priest, which I find sort of attractive, in a sort of…forbidden, sinful sort of way,” Rei says with a smile, batting his eyelashes at him. “Which you seem to enjoy, too. You’re married to a demon, kept on a leash by a Wavebred…”

 

“Eh? What leash? Not that I wouldn’t be into that, but I never saw a leash…”

 

“Perhaps it’s just a figurative one…for now. I think he saves the real one for Chiaki.” Rei pauses. “Who we should find, or we will have a very angry Kanata. If you want to keep watch, I’ll send Koga. Isn’t it cute how much he’s grown?”

 

“He’s almost as big as his grandfather,” Kaoru agrees wistfully. “Now, that was a good dog. I thought you just said we were to wait for an hour or two?”

 

“All dogs are good. And I changed my mind, because I think I just saw a flying lizard and I don’t like that.” 

 

“Wh—“

 

Kaoru spins around, eyes wide, searching for said flying lizard. His hand flicks out, beads immediately twisting between his fingers. “You want to take point, or lead distraction?”

 

“Neither,” Rei sourly says, pushing Kaoru back inside with his hands firmly against his shoulders. “Just by scent, I think I know what lizard this is, and that’s why it’s even more important that I scoop Morisawa up now. I’m sending the puppy, go back to babysitting Kanata.”

 

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Kaoru mutters, not releasing the beads, starting to walk quickly back towards Kanata. He pauses, just outside of his room, and calls, “Rei! If it’s what you think it is, how do I kill it?”

 

“You don’t until I talk to it first,” Rei calls back too-cheerfully. “Because it’s supposed to be somewhere else. _Not_ here.”

 

“Noisy,” Kanata mumbles as a still-curled-up ball on the bed, albeit a far less bloodied and bitten one than he was left previously. By the window, Koga stirs, head lifting up at the sound of a silent cue before he leaps down, hitting the ground several stories down as if it’s a simple hop, and disappears off into the night.

 

Madara is on the beach. With him is King Leo, playing in the waves.

 

Rei breathes in deep as he contemplates murder.

 

His booted feet slide in the sand as he makes his way down the dune, his cloak whipping behind him with the ocean winds. “Is this your idea of protection?” he calls out. “Bringing him here?”

 

Madara’s head whips around, and he moves instinctively into a crouch, as if balancing with something extending far out of the bottom of his spine, green fire burning in his eyes. At the sight of Rei, he relaxes, straightening up into an easy laugh, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Hello, my friend! The king wanted to play in the waves, isn’t that nice?”

 

Rei strides closer, his own eyes sharp and glowing red in the dim light of night. “I told you to keep him _safe_ ,” he lowly says. “You’ve brought him straight to one of the most dangerous places in the realm. He’d be better off next to that archdemon in the Capital. I don’t _care_ what he wants, take him back home.”

 

Madara snorts. “Oh, what, the Sorrow’s Gate? He wanted to see that, too. I thought I smelled a little white child rolling about in the castle, surely it’s about to be closed.”

 

“Making assumptions is what gets people killed. Take him home.”

 

“A Sorrow’s Gate can’t hurt me,” Madara says with a laugh, reaching out to touch Rei’s hair familiarly. “He’s safe, isn’t he? Come on, he’ll sit on that throne for a long, long time, don’t rush him.”

 

“It can’t hurt you, but it can hurt him.” Rei doesn’t move, but he _is_ somewhat annoyed with the way his magic reflexively stirs at the touch. _Oh, come now, get over yourself_ , he grumpily thinks, and his eyes flick over towards Leo. The temptation to solve this quickly and concisely is there, for the first time in awhile. Sending Leo back home would be easy with just a push of suggestion, and there’s nothing of it that would be wrong in this case. It’s for his safety, it’s for…

 

Rei abruptly cuts off that line of thinking. No, he’s just tired. And _annoyed_. “Kings need to stay on thrones,” he quietly says. “That’s the point.”

 

“Ah, is that it?” Madara asks, grinning. “How’s your throne doing? I heard you haven’t been on it for decades.”

 

“I’m going to slap you. It’s different in the human world and you know it.”

 

“Aye, it is,” Madara agrees easily. “As far as I can see, no one’s yet suffered for my little lad skipping in the waves. In the Shadowlands, on the other hand…or have you not heard what’s happening in the North?”

 

“I know there’s activity up there as well, and I know there’s another gate,” Rei wearily says, folding his arms across his chest. “And I know my brother is dealing with a great deal of pressure in the Shadowlands right now. Do you know something I don’t?”

 

“I know the Sorrow’s Gate never opens by itself.” Madara’s smile turns less cheerful, eyes hardening. “I know the creatures coming out of it are nothing compared to the ones flowing from the Shiver’s Gate. I know the last, biggest gate to open, the Wrathful Gate, is going to let in something that no seraph’s pet can close with his heartsblood. But you know all of that, don’t you?”

 

“Yes. I do.” Rei’s eyes lid, his expression unchanging. “Which is why I mean it very seriously when I’d like for you to keep the king safe. Screw that up, and I’ll use _your_ blood to close the damned thing.”

 

Madara laughs at that, slapping Rei hard on the back. “Good, you’re still funny! Rei, my friend, I could fly Leo through that Gate and out the other side without singeing a hair on his head. And I doubt you could find a drop of my blood if I gave you seven blades and fell asleep for a year while you tried. Keep your threats where they belong—like dealing with that archdemon, which I notice you haven’t done in the slightest. I’ve kept my part of the bargain, after all. The king is safe.”

 

“The archdemon _will_ die,” Rei grinds out, stepping out of range of Madara’s touch. “When I say he needs to die. Believe it or not, Madara, trusting you with the king is a mark of my faith in you—one you don’t entirely deserve. It would be helpful for you to restore some of my trust in you by actually taking care of him in the way I suggested.”

 

“You only told me to make sure he was safe, since there was an archdemon,” Madara says crossly, starting to lose his good humor. A hint of a scale pattern appears on his skin, and small heat lines start to appear over his head, as if he’s several hundred degrees warmer than the rest of his surroundings. “He’s safe. What’s gone so wrong that he can’t have a little fun now and then? I’m not stealing him for a lifetime, just a month or two. Why’re you so upset about it?”

 

“He’s a close associate of mine, of Ritsu’s. Having someone like him anywhere near a Sorrow’s Gate is a tremendously bad idea. The things he could lure out—well, you’re an expert, aren’t you?”

 

Madara holds Rei’s gaze, and steps a bit closer to him, close enough that Rei can feel the heat radiating off of him. “And this,” he says softly, “wouldn’t have anything to do with what’s currently holding that boy’s soul as tight as a noose, hmm? Or that a Sorrow’s Gate can disrupt thralls? Well, if I did take him on a little ride through…no one knows what would happen, hmm? Or at least, you don’t.”

 

“It’s been temporarily sealed,” Rei softly says, unmoving where he stands, staring up at Madara unblinkingly. “And if you want to take him on a ride through it, you’ll break that seal, letting those things bleed into the sea once more. I’m sure the Wavebred heir will appreciate your presence all the more once you do that.”

 

“More threats? That’s not very nice.” Madara grins, and reaches out a hand, chucking Rei under the chin. “Fine, fine. Put your fangs away, I’m terrified!” He laughs, turning to watch Leo attempting to catch a fish. “I’ll take him up to the mountain country, deep into the Hinterlands. I’m sure the Paladins will enjoy meeting a king for the first time in generations. He’ll be as safe as stone huts, and away from any pesky Gates. Does that sound good?”

 

“If you touch me again, I’m going to _bite it off,”_ Rei hisses, good humor souring as he slaps Madara’s hand away again. “Take him back to the Capital. Do it, or I’ll know. If you bring him around Paladins, you’re risking his life, which you apparently seem to enjoy doing.”

 

Madara’s humor vanishes completely, leaving only implacable stillness.”It’s hard for me not to hurt him,” he says, the words coming out inhuman, without emotion. “I’d hoped to find someone to help, someone who cared for him, with his best interests at heart. I found no one like that in the Capitol. I’ve found no one like that in High Harbor. Everyone just wants something from him. He wanted to play in the waves, so we’re here. I don’t take orders from you. And you’d do well to remember that, little Demon child.”

 

“If you want someone like that, they aren’t in the Hinterlands.”

 

Rei’s gaze slides away, watching Leo simply lie flat in the waves, unfazed when they wash over his face. “They aren’t here, and you’re right, they aren’t in the Capital. But unfortunately, where they are isn’t safe, either, and if you bring him to them…it will only make the situation more dangerous. Perhaps I want something from the king, but I still care for him more than most. He’s still in my protection. You’d do well to remember _that_ , dragon.”

 

“When I tell you what you are,” Madara says cheerfully, “it’s to remind you that I’m more powerful than you are. When you remind me what I am, it reminds me that I’m more powerful than you are. That’s handy for me, thanks!” He leans close, eyes sparkling. “Do you think I can snap that thrall bond? I haven’t tried to do such a thing before. Perhaps I should find out.”

 

“Try it, and we can find out who exactly is more skilled.” Rei’s head cocks. “You _met_ me when I was a stupid child. Test that, and see what it does to that boy if you _can_ succeed.”

 

“I’m tempted.” Madara licks his lips, amused with himself. “See, that’s the kind of thing I’m talking about. I shouldn’t be tempted by something like that! Not if I’m worried about the boy, which I am. I shouldn’t _want_ to test my skills against yours, ah, but I want to.” He grins, showing quite a lot of teeth. “Unfortunate, unfortunate. I’ll take him and go, then. You can pick the destination, I’ll give you that, but I’d rather not take him back to the Capitol when there’s something so slimy running about. Anywhere else, in this world or another, your choice.”

 

“Find a test subject that isn’t the king, and I’ll gladly agree.” Rei pauses, getting his bearings about himself, rather despising how much he, also, enjoys the idea of testing his abilities against a magically impervious dragon. Well, that’s the stupid demon blood in him, he supposes. Kaoru is right about him, on some days. “Let me speak to him first. I’m not going to influence him,” he swiftly adds before Madara can protest. “I just want to hear where he wants to go, and where he might end up _staying_.”

 

Madara shrugs. “I’ll feel it if you influence him in any way other than words,” he says easily. “If you do, I’ll just carry him back to my nest. Have at, my friend.”

 

Rei turns away, making his way across the loose sand to the edge of the water, standing a few paces back so as to not end up splashed. “Majesty,” he calls over. “Sorry to interrupt your fun, but may I have a word?”

 

Leo splashes down into the sand, letting the water wash over him with a whoop of a laugh. “Rei! Excellency! You want to have a splash fight?”

 

“I would, but I’m afraid I have an engagement tonight that conflicts with being wet and salty. Well,” Rei says with a pause, “in so many words. At any rate, you look well. Taking a vacation, are you?”

 

“Suou needs to learn,” Leo says cheerfully, stepping out of the waves and sitting on the sand, thrusting his hands deep into the sand, ignoring the way it clings to his wet clothes. “More likely than not, it’s his children that’ll be king after me. My ministers love him, he’s a good transition for them into this new world I’m building. Has he done something wrong?”

 

“No, not at all. This isn’t about Lord Suou, though I imagine he’s concerned about you.” Rei steps closer, his head tilting. “Your Majesty—you know I sent my consort to look after you in the Capital, yes? And the Warden of the West?”

 

“He’s my favorite,” Leo assures him, reaching out a sandy hand to pat Rei’s pale one. “His Excellency Shu was getting on my nerves, he’s so sad.”

 

“He has a lot on his mind right now.” Rei crouches down to better take Leo’s hand. “Majesty—are you planning to head back to the Capital? Or do you have something else in mind?”

 

“I’m going back,” Leo assures him, squeezing that hand, his own warm in Rei’s cool grip. “It’s a transition, as I’ve said. Everyone was glowering, I’m sick of Izumi being gone, and I’m so bored with all the old men telling me that it’s inconvenient to care about other people. I just…needed a break, you know?” His smile trembles, eyes growing bright with unshed tears. “I’m pretty sick of being lonely.”

 

“I understand.” Rei hesitates, mulling over his options as he squeezes Leo’s hand in return. Thrall bonds work in interesting ways, so he’s learned. Leo’s emotions are far from a secret to him, and haven’t been for some time. “Your Majesty…if you’d allow it,” he finally, carefully says, “I’d inform you of a few pressing…situations. And how your safety might be compromised, in the Capital, here, in the West. Even in the North. The condition is that if I tell you, you cannot speak of it, and you cannot act.”

 

“Then don’t tell me,” Leo says simply. “If I can’t do anything about it, why let me know? I might decide to do something secretly, you know? Without even _me_ knowing about it. Ah, but you should tell Izumi, he’ll want to know what’s happening in the North.”

 

“He knows what’s happening in the North. He’s there, which is why I thought you might want to know.”

 

“Oh! That’s good, he’s always better off when he can do something instead of just worrying about it.” Leo looks up at Rei, eyes searching. “You’re worried. Really worried. Not about Izumi.”

 

“Not _just_ about Izumi,” Rei corrects, settling down entirely into a dry patch of sand. “But…yes. I’m very worried. And your safety right now is a large part of my worries.”

 

“I have Madara, though,” Leo points out. “He’s scarier than anything I’ve ever had to fight, right? Rei, do you think Suou can’t do it? As the Emperor, is there something you need from me?”

 

“I worry that if you’re gone for too long, the kingdom will become restless again, and you won’t have a kingdom to come home to. Madara is…well, if you give him an inch, he’ll take a mile,” Rei settles upon. “He’ll keep you safe, but he also might never bring you home.”

 

Leo looks out over the waves, his eyes reflecting nothing but gray. “Maybe that would be better for the kingdom,” he says softly. “At least I can’t make any wrong choices if I’m on dragonback.”

 

“Mmmm. You’ve been without your lover for too long.”

 

“Eh, isn’t that your fault? That’s what he says, anyway.”

 

“Absolutely. But that’s not the point—the point is, you’re spouting the same kind of depressed nonsense I do when I’ve been without for too long.”

 

“Is it nonsense if I’m right?” Leo asks softly, still staring out into the waves. “I know I’m a better king than my father, but…does that mean I’m better than everyone else?”

 

“It’s easier said than done not to compare yourself to other kings, but…at the end of the day, you’re king, and you have to make the best of it by helping who you can. I think you’re a good king,” Rei adds, watching a fish leap up from the water, snatching an insect clear out of the air. “And the kind of king we needed, at the time. Running off into the distance will cause more harm than good.”

 

“Suou would be a good king, too, though,” Leo says quietly. “And they’re going to have a happy announcement soon. I won’t even kill him for it. I…if I wanted to be a good king, wouldn’t I have taken a good Queen by now? But I only care about my own happiness. And his.”

 

“Being selfishly devoted to you and yours isn’t necessarily a bad thing,” Rei says with a little shrug. “You’re right—it doesn’t make for being the best king. Eventually, if you want your happiness and his to be paramount, you’ll need to pick one. Everyone does, eventually.”

 

“One what?” Leo asks, blinking slowly. “One, me or him? One, one wife? One, me or the kingdom? I don’t know what you’re asking.”

 

“Your interests, or the kingdom’s. That’s what it always comes down to. You’re in this horrific state of limbo right now, it’s very frustrating for everyone.”

 

“And you think I should choose the kingdom.” Leo smiles, fingertips digging into the sand. “You’re right. I know you are. But I…I still, even now, I want to complain. I don’t think it’s fair. You saw an unjust law that kept you from your lover, so you struck it down. Now you two live together. I saw an unjust law that kept me from mine, and we’re still separated, and everyone hates me for it, and I’m wet and sandy with only a dragon for company.”

 

“Did I _say_ that I think you should choose the kingdom?”

 

Rei tilts his head back, glancing skyward. “I broke quite a few laws to see my lover returned to me—some of those laws, I’d punish other wizards for breaking today. Ah, but that’s the benefit of being in power; you can break laws, and you can have what you want, so long as you keep people happy elsewhere. If you wanted your lover at your side, you should’ve pressed me for it. That’s not a criticism, before you get upset,” Rei adds, leaning over to pat Leo’s hand. “You sometimes just think too kindly, and _too_ justly. It would do you well to be a bossy little shit once in awhile, because you’re right, things are rarely fair unless you turn them to your advantage.”

 

“Thank you for the very vague advice,” Leo says with a sigh, and flops back onto his back, slowly making a sand angel. “Be selfish sometimes, be generous sometimes, keep people happy, break some laws but not others, demand things, forgive people, be lest kind and just, seize power, make everyone love you. Let me know how to translate that into policy sometime, would you? Like right now. There’s a granary shortage in the lands between the Capitol and the Sandlands. The West has sent half of their surplus, but they need the rest of it for fighting against the Inglings, since they’re marching to war more often than usual. I can compel them, but then we have angry soldiers instead of angry peasants. I’ve been offered a huge amount of grain from a lord in the Hinterlands, but my spies assure me that he’s selling all the grain that would be given to the orphans and infirm. There’s not enough for everyone, and the biggest grain merchant in the Capitol just raised his prices. Do I interfere with the market, force my merchants to lower their taxes, and purchase it from them? The Master of Coin will withdraw his support—yes, even if I like him and he likes me, he likes money most of all. Do I buy from a willing party in the Hinterlands, knowing that I’m taking it from starving children? That’s what my advisors want me to do. Even then, the money from that isn’t allowed to come from the royal stores, because that’s favoring one Dominance over another, and the Lord of these lands doesn’t have the money to pay.”

 

He blinks slowly up at the sky. “Commanding a bunch of wizards seems easier. Or maybe I’m wrong, and you’re about to create a bunch of grain from thin air and tell me I’m a fool for not asking—and also, please do that so that people won’t starve, but also also, please do not do that, because then I’ll have to create an entire new tax code if we discover that food can be created from nothing by wizards. So, sure, I’ll be more selfish. Where do I start?”

 

“…It’s adorable that you think _that_ kind of decision is being _selfish_.”

 

Rei shifts, turning, planting a hand next to Leo’s head as he leans over him and asks, “Do you want to deal with that, or do you want to see Izumi? Do you want to deal with that, or do you want to go off riding on a dragon’s back? Do you want to deal with that, or do you want someone else to, and damn the consequences? That’s what being selfish means.” He pauses, then adds, “I could also help your grain shortage problem, but it does require magic, which might add a layer to your problems.”

 

“That,” Leo says quietly, “was one of the two dozen petitions brought to me the morning I took off with Madara. The grain shortage, the metalworkers contract dispute, the road construction tax, the orphanage war, the priest boycott—they’re refusing to minister to the dying as long as the king continues his immoral ways, of course—the canal hostages, and the cattle plague, those are just the ones I can remember. And all of my fine counselors think differently, but some will disagree with me just because they don’t like me, and none of them like each other. The ones who agree with the priests think I’m disgusting, and the ones who want the priests’ gold say they support me, but it’s just to get back at their enemies, not because they think I’m right. If I make selfish choices, I’m siding with _someone_ , and they might be the ones working against me in secret. So thank you for your really simplistic advice, I just don’t know how to take it. I needed a week off, and Suou’s just as good as I am.”

 

“Sometimes, simplistic advice is better than wrapping your head up into knots like this. It’s no fault of mine if you refuse to listen to it, but it is my fault if I don’t tell you the real decision you need to make right now.”

 

Rei straightens, pushing his braid over his shoulder. “Go home to the Capital, and you’ll spend your time with all that you’ve said, plus an advisor that I fear was an old friend of your bonded’s. Go North, and you’ll have your lover, but that old friend’s companions, and all that they command from the depths of the Shadowlands. I want you to be safe, but you’re safe nowhere, so pick one, and let me know, so I can try and send aid to the right place when you settle there. Whichever you pick, you can’t stay here, not for more than the night.”

 

“Vague threats,” Leo sighs. “You know what’s awful? No matter what I do, someone I hate feels like they won. I’m pretty tempted to fire all of my ministers, rally all the wizards to my cause, and seize the entire country by force. Lords would have to swear to me all over again—not to the crown, just to me—and if they didn’t do as I said, there would be consequences. Doesn’t that sound good? I mean, except for all of the dying that would happen?”

 

“It sounds fun to me,” Rei says unapologetically. “Wizards love you, and for good reason. If you go ahead and do that, let me know which priests of yours turn fully against you and are also from paladin lines. I might need to throw them into a few portals, for science.”

 

Leo stares at him for a moment, then barks out a laugh, which bubbles into a belly laugh, wild and a little unhinged. “F-for science,” he gasps, hands clutching his belly. “Ah, I missed laughing like that, you’re so funny. Sure, I’ll let you know. That was my deal with myself, you know. If I could take off for a week and I still hated it as much when I went back, I’d either seize power or leave entirely.” He wipes tears from his eyes, still grinning. “I can’t lead properly if they don’t respect me, and they’ve refused any of my attempts to get them to, so they have to go or I do. It’s really the only way.”

 

“You’re absolutely correct. That’s a very Shadowland-like way of looking at it, you know, and I suppose I don’t hate it. If you start a war, though, _tell me_ ,” Rei lowly orders, leaning over to pull on Leo’s ponytail. “So I can remove my consort, and be there myself. I’m not joking about the priests. I really do need a few sacrificial lambs, I’d rather pluck them up myself.”

 

Leo smiles, and darts quickly up, pecking Rei’s lips with a kiss. “It’s a deal. Though, you know, even if I get rid of all my stupid ministers, I’m still going to keep human sacrifice illegal.”

 

Rei bats his eyelashes innocently. “It’s their sworn duty. Ask any of them, they’ll tell you. They’re very proud of it.”

 

“Oh. That’s all right, then. Yes, I promise to tell you.”

 

“Good boy. Oh, it wasn’t a vague threat that you can only stay here tonight, by the way. I need you gone by the morning. There’s an open portal to the depths of the Shadowlands and things might leak out from it and kill you. But you can stay the night, in the manor—Kaoru is already here, of course.”

 

“Ooh, yikes.” Leo cocks his head, then asks, “Was that an invitation to a threesome? Or have I just been hanging out with you too long?”

 

“I won’t say no,” Rei cheerfully says. “This is the first time I’ve gotten out of bed in months, I’m suffering.”

 

“Eh? But you’re less than a day’s ride from the Capitol, isn’t that where your mate is?” Leo blinks in confusion. “I didn’t know you were dying. Seems like the kind of thing you should tell me.”

 

“He and I…had a disagreement, about how some matters should be handled.” Rei flutters a hand. “So he’s spurning my affections for the time being. Nothing to be concerned about. I’m not dying, just languishing in agony.”

 

“I’d hate to take you away from your languishing,” Leo says seriously. “You’re very artistic about it.”

 

“Very funny, Majesty. If you continue to tease me, I’ll start crying.”

 

“I was going to keep teasing, but you make _such_ a weird sound when you cry…”

 

“That’s still teasing. You’re a cruel king, you know.”

 

“Yeah, they’re going to say that a lot more when I fire all my ministers.” Leo props his chin on his hand, smiling faintly. “I’m going to do it. You helped me decide. Thanks.”

 

“It helps when you have at least one guaranteed army at your back, I imagine,” Rei softly says, reaching down to push some of Leo’s damp, salty hair from his face. “If they can’t be trusted, don’t keep them around. You’ll piss people off, certainly, but you’re always going to be doing that. Better to get something done. Now get up, and come inside. You’re going to catch cold out here.”

 

Leo stands, brushing off his rump. “Hey. Is there a spell that can say for absolute sure whether someone is telling the truth? One that can be performed reliably?”

 

“There is such a spell,” Rei confirms, climbing to his feet as well and dusting the sand off of his cloak. “Reliably…that’s trickier. Against extremely powerful beings, nothing can ever be said to be entirely reliable, unless other spells are laid down first. Why, Majesty? Do you suspect someone is being untruthful?”

 

Leo laughs. “I suspect everyone is being untruthful, but calm yourself, I’m not trying to work it on you. I want you to get your wizards to swear in the new representatives and ministers I’m going to hire, making them swear that they serve only the crown and their people and no other interests. Does that sound just, in your opinion?”

 

“I’m hurt that you think _I_ think you don’t trust me,” Rei says with feigned innocence, clasping a hand over his heart. “But yes, Majesty, that sounds just. I’m sure I could spare a wizard, or perhaps a few higher level Enhanced for the job as well. It’s a good way to start weeding out problems. Barring that,” he flippantly adds, “make them all take blood oaths.”

 

Leo makes a face. “Have you seen all the gross old men that want to take vows to me? Yuck, I don’t want to watch their flabby bellies waggle around, or their wrinkled pricks. I think an oath told true will hold just fine.”

 

“You don’t want to be known as the Whore King? One of the easiest ways to know a man is in bed, you know,” Rei says, keeping his expression completely serious. “One day, you too will be old. Do you want someone to talk about your prick like that?”

 

“No, I’m going to be young and beautiful forever,” Leo assures him. “Izumi told me he healed my first wrinkle, isn’t that convenient? I’m already the Squirrel King, I can’t have another title already.”

 

Rei snorts out a laugh at that. “The _Squirrel_ King. I have to admit, I love that. I’m actually depressed that _I_ don’t get called a whore more often. I just get accused of fucking dogs. Speaking of which—“

 

He whistles, and from over the dune, Koga’s massive head emerges, teeth drawn back in a snarl. “You’ve ridden a dragon here; do you want to ride a far-too-large wolf to the manor?”

 

Leo looks warily at the giant beast, and scuttles back a few paces, hair in wet tendrils all around his face. “Um…I think I’ll stick to the dragon. Much faster, you understand.”

 

“Nonsense, the manor is a short gallop away. Besides, if Madara comes near Kaoru’s estate, he’ll be punished.” Rei grabs Leo’s arm, dragging him forward with a smile. “Koga~! Come here, darling, stop showing your teeth, His Majesty doesn’t know that you’re smiling.”

 

 _It’s been awhile._ Koga’s tail lashes as he hops down from the dunes, eyes narrowed. _His Majesty’s still little. What the heck, do they not feed you?_

 

“You remember Koga, don’t you? It was back when we first met,” Rei hums. “He was a little puppy then.”

 

Leo’s eyes immediately light up, and he runs towards the great beast, flinging himself at its ruff in a hug, arms spread wide. “Wow! You look so good! Ahhh, do that again, talk in my mind again, it’s like I’m doing magic!”

 

“Rei,” Madara calls, eyebrows raised as he saunters close, “are you trying to capture my very willing prisoner?”

 

“I offered him a bed in Kaoru’s manor for the night,” Rei sweetly answers, watching as Koga stands gruffly for a moment before his tail slowly, unwillingly starts to wag. “And a ride on another great beast. One with a fluffy tail. Look, he’s happy.”

 

Leo does indeed look happy, clinging to Koga’s great shaggy pelt. Madara stares between them for a moment, then gives a huff and transforms back into his dragon self, curling up with his wings around his body, turning instantly to stone.

 

Leo stares, eyes wide. “Is that…uh…what did he just…”

 

“He’s sulking,” Rei says with a shrug, and grabs Leo around the waist, hoisting him up onto Koga’s back. “He brings these things on himself. If he had been sweeter, I would’ve offered him a fun evening as well, out in the stables.” Rei pulls himself up behind Leo. “Have you ever seen a dragon’s dick?”

 

“No,” Leo says, scrambling around until he’s more or less comfortable, eyes shining with interest. “But if you talk about dicks anymore, I’m gonna want to see yours tonight.”

 

“Oh, no, not that, never that,” Rei sighs, looping an arm around Leo’s waist to keep him steady as Koga moves without his direction, like a far-too smart horse that knows _exactly_ where he’s going at whatever speed he likes. “Dragons have _two_.”

 

“Ehhh? Wow…he never said. How modest.” Leo’s mind churns furiously. “Where’s the second one?”

 

“Sort of…under the first one? It doesn’t look like a human’s, anyway, so I suppose it’s hard to describe. Very colorful. Kind of bumpy. And prehensile.”

 

Leo tugs on Koga’s fur. “We gotta go back. I wanna talk him into showing me.”

 

_What Rei isn’t telling you is that their come burns._

 

“I mean…it does,” Rei allows. “Humans shouldn’t mess with that stuff, nor should they have a dragon dick up their ass, if that’s what you’re thinking about, Your Majesty.”

 

Leo pouts, then scowls, then huffs, leaning back against Rei. “Can we have sex tonight, at least?”

 

“I’m not doing my job right if my king has to _ask_ ,” Rei says with a laugh, tightening his hold about Leo’s waist as Koga leaps over an entire, narrow marsh and lands with a resounding thump on the other side. “Good boy, almost there.”

 

Koga just growls back at him, ears pinned to the back of his head as he slows his gallop to a slow trot once he approaches the manor gates. _I’m definitely faster than that stupid dragon. Oi, don’t start making out while you’re on my back still._

 

“I’ll do as I like, brat,” Rei sighs, sliding another hand up to toy with Leo’s ponytail. “I’ll need to speak with Kaoru before we settle in for the night. Do you want me to invite him?”

 

Leo licks his lips, then quickly, furtively shakes his head, just once. “There might be…things I want to ask for,” he says quietly, face hot, “that I don’t want anyone else to hear me ask for.”

 

“Fair enough. He has his own problems to focus on tonight, anyway.” Koga takes them to the main entranceway, coming to a stop with a growl and a slow swish of his tail. “Here we are, Majesty,” Rei says, sliding off of Koga’s back and offering Leo a hand. “Would you like a bath first? Not that I mind, but you’re a bit…salty. That can’t be comfortable.”

 

“The salt is one thing,” Leo says, grimacing. “The sand is another. Yes, I want a bath, if you wouldn’t mind.” Then he turns, bowing to Koga. “And thank you, Lord Oogami, from one King to another.”

 

Koga looks him over from head to toe, then grumbles, steps forward, and licks up his face in one, long swipe of his tongue.

 

“Dogs are so good, aren’t they? Well then, come along, come along, I’ll drop you off at the baths and you can soak while I handle my own kingly duties for the evening,” Rei hums, steering Leo away and up the stairs. Koga’s low growl echoes behind them before he disappears off into the night, presumably to return to his guard post.

 

Leo clings to Rei’s arm, walking quickly to keep up with him, somehow managing both to hang on him and lead him all at once. “I was kinda thinking more like a quick rinse, then to bed,” he protests. “You can’t just work me up and then—wait, what do you mean, kingly duties? I’m the king, you know.”

 

“Kingly sounds better than Emperorly, don’t you think?” Rei archly says. “One of my wizards was injured. I need to check on him, make sure his bonded is with him—and then I will be all yours, I promise. Believe me, Majesty—“ He deftly backs Leo against the stairwell, catching his chin between two fingers to lift his head. “I’m not the sort of creature that can stop once he starts.”

 

Leo gasps, hips arching forward, rubbing against Rei’s thigh with a desperate little rut. His blood surges and boils, and he clings to Rei’s tunic, hands trembling. “Don’t touch me,” he breathes, eyes closed tightly shut. “Or I’ll suplex you to the ground and have you in the hallway right now.”

 

“Ah—well—fuck,” Rei manages with a ragged laugh of his own, stepping back abruptly no matter the spark of angry, hot pain that rakes through his own senses, both physical and magical. “Up the staircase, take a right, just down the hall, you’ll see the steam from the baths. Go. I’ll meet you there and fuck you until you’re bored of it, Majesty.”

 

Leo takes off as if he’s fleeing, somehow shedding his clothes as he runs without slowing down, somehow leaping the last several feet through the door into the baths, past a startled attendant, splashing down naked into the piping hot water.

 

Rei breathes in deeply, struggling to calm himself before he starts up the stairs as well, but goes left, away, _away_ from the temptation that is their king.

 

He pauses outside of Kaoru’s bedroom to collect himself further, then cracks the door open slowly without knocking, sparing a brief glance inside. Kanata sleeps, limbs coiled about Chiaki as if they are tentacles—a Chiaki who didn’t even have the time to undress from his uniformed attire before being pulled into such an embrace, even. Rei shuts the door again, and sighs. “You’re lurking about invisibly and that’s highly disturbing,” he murmurs to the seemingly empty hall. “If you need me tonight, you can find me with the king, but I recommend knocking first. We both need to blow off some steam.”

 

A single sigil flickers in the air, then disappears in a flash of white light. Kaoru appears from behind that flash, eyebrow raised. “You want me to keep watch on this room, or on yours? Both doors have pretty important people behind them.”

 

“I’ll be keeping watch on the king,” Rei dryly says. “And Koga is watching Kanata from outside as well. And Madara…well, I left him on the beach, but I imagine he’s watching the whole of High Harbor, in his own way.” He pauses, suddenly distracted by Kaoru’s mouth. “Damn you, you’re very pretty.”

 

“And horribly,” Kaoru says, taking a half-step forward, tapping a fingertip against Rei’s chest, “I know it. And I know how pretty you are, too. And…” He steps even closer, close enough that he can feel Rei’s breath on his face. “And I’ve missed you.”

 

Rei exhales a strangled sound from the back of his throat. “Why are you trying to kill me,” he bemoans, which is as far as he gets in stopping himself before he lurches forward, grabs Kaoru’s face in his hands, and kisses him hard.

 

“You started it,” Kaoru groans against Rei’s lips, just before he grabs Rei’s thighs, hoisting him up, slamming him against the stone wall. “Fuck the king, I want you tonight.”

 

“ _I_ wanted a threesome,” Rei pants out, raking his fingers up through Kaoru’s hair as he clamps his legs about his waist, dragging him in for another wet, hot kiss. “Thought you were angry with me, or I wouldn’t—nhh—have prodded at him so much…damn it, I always forget how _strong_ you are…”

 

“I’m gonna knock your head against the wall, you _idiot_ ,” Kaoru moans, tweaking one of Rei’s nipples through his robes with unerring precision. “I’m not _mad_ at you, I love you and I’m going to have you against this wall.”

 

Rei stifles a squeak—barely. It trails into a low, rumbling, desperate groan, and he drags a hand down to grab at Kaoru’s ass and jerk him harder against him. “Please— _please_ do that,” he groans, his head thunking back against the stone wall uncaringly. “Then let me drag you back to my bedroom and help me fuck the king. He—seems to think—you’ve never heard a man ask for anything unusual in bed.”

 

Kaoru laughs against Rei’s ear, teeth raking at the flesh. “What’s the smart money on him asking?” he asks, amused as he grinds his hips against Rei’s, hardness against hardness, both of them hot and aching and tearing at each other. “What, nnh, what nasty perversions are lying under that orange mop, do you think?”

 

Rei hisses out a breath, his nails digging into Kaoru’s back to hold onto him as he braces himself back against the wall, grinding down with every roll of Kaoru’s hips, biting his lip as his cock twitches and throbs between his legs. “He likes…being treated like a mare that needs to be bred,” Rei says with a ragged laugh, his eyes lidded as he fumbles one-handedly between them to get at Kaoru’s cock. “But who doesn’t?”

 

“No idea,” Kaoru agrees with a groan, thrusting a hand into Rei’s pants, stroking him quickly, hungrily. “You’re so fucking hungry I can hear it, you know. That’s got to _ache_ , I can feel how full you are down here…Why’d you wait so long, do I have to let you top?”

 

Rei’s fingers quickly become useless, unable to grab at Kaoru’s cock like he likes when Kaoru is touching _him_ so swiftly and thoroughly that it takes his breath away. He struggles for words for a moment, settles for sagging back into the wall, panting open-mouthed as he ruts up into that touch. “You, of all people, know it’s better if I d…dooon’t…” He shudders hard, tongue running over the pinpricks of his fangs, his hands kneading into Kaoru’s shoulders as his first orgasm takes him off-guard, his back arched off the wall as he spills messily over those long, skilled fingers.

 

It’s only a few more urgent, rough grinds of Kaoru’s cock against Rei’s thigh, accompanied by vicious, humping grunts, before Kaoru is doing the same, spilling in his trousers with a ragged, weak little sigh. “What are we,” he asks, amused, embarrassed, looking down between them, “teenagers? I’d thought we were past this kind of thing, heh…”

 

Rei manages a breathy laugh before he gives up, grabs Kaoru’s wrist, and drags his hand up to his mouth with wobbly fingers. “Maybe you were, but I’m always like this,” he breathes before sucking his fingers clean, licking a wet stripe up each one. “For better or for worse. As to why I’ve waited so long…well, maybe I’m picky in my old age.”

 

Kaoru kisses him deeply, ignoring the taste, plunging his tongue in deeply. Then he drops his hands, squeezing Rei close by the hips. “Take me to your pretty little king,” he urges, kissing Rei’s neck, “or I’ll just keep having you, right here, all night. I’m addicted to you.”

 

“You make it _so_ hard to do anything but hop on your cock and stay there,” Rei bemoans, kissing Kaoru again for good measure before he pries himself away, stumbling over his own feet for a moment as he hikes up his clothes. “Do you fancy a bath? He did. Fuck it, I’m stripping.”

 

Before he even makes it to the baths, most of his clothes are on the floor, and fortunately, the attendant has already long-decided that the baths are not for monitoring that evening. “Majesty~” Rei sing-songs as he shoves open the door and starts unwinding his hair from its braid. “How sure are you about not having a third? Lord Kaoru puts up with _my_ perversions, I’m certain yours won’t faze him.”

 

Leo immediately sinks down, until the water level is up to his chin. “Um…I really…don’t think it’s safe?” he squeaks. “To have someone know, um, intimate things? About the king? Someone I’ve never met, not really?”

 

“He’s a paladin. A White Knight of the Holy Order or something like that,” Rei patiently says, sliding his way down into the water without hesitation, and slithers his way closer to Leo, nuzzling into his hair like a large, slinky cat. “Let him be the first holy man to swear his way onto your new council. Also, he has the _best_ cock.”

 

“Why are you trying to get him on the wrong side of the White Holy order?” Kaoru calls from the doorway, amused. “The other paladins would defect to the Shadowlands before allowing me to represent them in a king’s council.”

 

Leo looks between Rei and Kaoru, still shy, but curious. “Is he…very naughty, this holy knight?”

 

“Naughty enough,” Rei murmurs into Leo’s ear, his tongue snaking out to trace the edge of it, “that he wed _me_ in secrecy some years ago, and still regularly tries to knock me up.”

 

Leo trembles like the squirrel he’s nicknamed after, melting into Rei’s arms. “Maybe…a different fantasy this time,” he breathes, breath quick. “If you…both…don’t mind?”

 

Kaoru saunters forward, though unlike the other two, he shows more reverence for his clothes, giving them a nominal folding before setting them aside and joining the bath. “I’m sure I won’t,” he assures Leo, threading his fingers with Rei’s, though not stepping _too_ close, not yet.

 

“Anything you like, Majesty.” Rei gives Kaoru’s hand a squeeze as his mouth fastens itself to Leo’s neck, giving it a quick suck, then a nip of his teeth before he releases it. “Name it. Ahhh, slap me if I become too overeager, it’s been so long, and you’re both _so_ lovely…”

 

Leo twists, face so hot it hurts, and buries his face in Rei’s chest, not wanting to look either of them in the face. “Pretend I’m…not really here,” he whispers. “I mean, obviously, I want to…but, uh…never mind, it’s too hard to explain, I feel dumb.”

 

“No, no, relax.” Rei releases Kaoru’s hand for a moment to catch Leo’s face, lifting it up as his thumbs stroke over his burning cheeks. “Pretend you’re not here…like you’re just a toy for us to play with?” he patiently clarifies. “And do what we like with? We can do that.”

 

A shiver goes through Leo’s whole body, so big it’s visible across the room as he nods, a good deal of that embarrassment fading. “That’s—that’s just it, is it…it’s not…”

 

“Too weird?” Kaoru asks, suddenly close enough behind Leo that they’re touching, something Leo doesn’t shy away from. “From all the commotion, I’d thought you’d want me down on all fours and barking. Rei,” he says, casually reaching a hand around to tweak one of Leo’s nipples, rolling it between his fingertips as Leo lets out a breathy squeak, “I miss you, but you brought some nice entertainment, at least.”

 

“Didn’t I? He’s so cute.” Rei’s hands curl about Leo’s waist, using that grasp to push him back into Kaoru as he surges forward to let his own cock rub against Leo’s hip. “I thought you might like him because he looks like a pretty girl,” he lowly teases, nipping gently at the side of Leo’s neck again. “When’s the last time you got to _watch_ me drink from someone, hmm?” he murmurs, then bites down before Kaoru can answer, as quick as a snake.

 

“It’s been a long time,” Kaoru says, eyes lidded as he watches Leo shudder, melting into a puddle in Rei’s arms. “Are we going to make use of him here, in the baths? I haven’t got any oil, and from the way that thing is squirming, he’s going to want to be full all night.”

 

Rei doesn’t answer for a long moment, his mouth as full as it is, and when he finally does pull back, it’s with a ragged, panting sigh, sagging against Leo for a moment as he shivers, cheeks starting to pink up after being fed twiceover. “We can take him to a proper bed,” he breathes, licking at his fangs to make sure he doesn’t miss a drop of blood. “I want to watch you fuck him.”

 

Kaoru lifts Leo into his arms without the slightest hint of difficulty, carrying him like a bride, like a child, like some kind of prize. “Grab my cloak, it’s older than all of us put together and worth more than my life, please. I’ll take this pretty king to a room and…mm…maybe get started on his best parts.”

 

“I’m going to jerk off in it,” Rei cheerfully says as he hauls himself out of the bath and scoops up Kaoru’s cloak, slinging it around his own shoulders without care.

 

“Good, my father will hate that.”

 

It’s an extremely short walk, which is good, because Leo is already so tense he’s vibrating when Kaoru tosses him on the bed. He leans against the bedpost, then looks over at Rei, bringing up the rear with Kaoru’s cloak. “You want to take the lead on this one?” he offers. “I figure you know better what he really wants.”

 

“Put your cock in his mouth,” Rei casually says, dropping down onto the bed as he grabs Leo’s face in one hand, tugging it over to better press a kiss to his mouth, then again, until his own breath is short and ragged when he releases him. “And maybe I’ll shove mine up his pretty ass at the same time. He just wants to be played with until he stops thinking—and I just want to kiss you too, come here,” he mutters, grabbing for Kaoru’s arm to haul him back over and shove his tongue into his mouth.

 

Kaoru breathes into that kiss, enjoying it, luxuriating in it, tasting Rei’s mouth as if he’s dying of thirst and Rei is the only water he’s ever seen. “Forget about him,” he breathes, yanking Leo’s head down by his ponytail, feeling the young man lap eagerly at his cock without any further urging, swallowing him down. “This pretty plaything you brought me is nice, but you’re nicer. Don’t mind if I just…ahh…keep my cock warm in it, yeah?”

 

“T-that’s what he’s here for, yeah,” Rei breathes, his own eyes fluttering as he swallows down Kaoru’s taste, the sweetness of his tongue on his tongue, and unconsciously grabs at Leo’s hips, twisting him around, hiking them up to better rub his cock against the curve of his ass. “Throw the oil over here,” he murmurs, even as he reaches for Kaoru again, shoving Leo’s head further down onto Kaoru’s cock in the process of pulling Kaoru forward to kiss him again. “And tell me my mouth’s better.”

 

“Your mouth is better,” Kaoru says, then gasps when that makes Leo work harder, sucking him down deep, wriggling his tongue around on the underside. “Mm, but he’s very…spirited, I suppose. Thanks for bringing this toy for us to play with, nnh, my day was obnoxious, got to work out my frustration somewhere.”

 

He looks down, and sees Leo’s mouth slack and dripping, his eyes glazed over as he twists, spreading his legs, working his ass back, trying to hungrily swallow Rei’s cock on the other end.

 

“He’s a whore, what do you expect?” Rei says with a laugh, snatching up a bottle of oil to tip it over his fingers. He wastes no time shoving them inside, pressing a pair of them in deep, hissing out a breath at how Leo’s body clenches down around them. “I was going to be nice and tease him a little, but…”

 

Leo’s too tiny, too tight to just shove his cock into, but that doesn’t stop Rei from getting it into him one way or another. His fingers pull out, the rest of the oil tipped over onto his dick, which then rubs against that slick hole, just for a moment before he shoves the head inside.He slides a hand down, pinching one of Leo’s nipples, plucking at it as he surges forward again to suck on the side of Kaoru’s neck. “Let me have a taste of you, too, love,” he murmurs, the tip of his tongue dragging against Kaoru’s thudding pulse.

 

“You can always have me,” Kaoru groans, grabbing Rei’s hair and yanking his head down, holding his mouth against his neck. His blood beats quickly, in anticipation of what is to come, like a dog trained on treats and affection, seeking more of the same. “And when you’re sated…you must tell me, ah, gods, where you found a whore that’s still so _tight_ —“

 

Rei bites down, cutting him off with the snap of his teeth against flesh, his fangs sinking in far more deeply than he would allow himself with most others—but Kaoru, he trusts himself with Kaoru, trusts himself to stop, even when his blood is so, _so_ sweet—

 

He breaks away with a wet gasp, trembling as he laps at the wound on Kaoru’s neck, his hips mindlessly grinding forward, rutting in, sinking deeper into Leo with every single thrust. “Capital whores,” he breathes, his eyes dilated as he sucks at Kaoru’s neck again, not biting, but savoring the taste of even his skin. His hand idly pets down Leo’s sweat-slick back, stroking down his spine down to the slick whole that stretches wide around his cock. “They’re always worth it.”

 

Kaoru looks down, groaning in pleasure, eyes sparkling, dizzy with lust as he thrusts into Leo’s mouth, making him cough and gag, not letting up in the slightest. “He must have…really been expensive,” he says, licking his lips, hands fisted in Leo’s hair, that tie coming free. “He’s coming all over himself already, don’t think he’s going to stop. Are you giving it to him that good back there? Or is he just that easy, do you think?”

 

“Both,” Rei says, and one particularly hard, deliberate thrust finally shoves his cock in completely, letting him bottom out inside of Leo’s tight ass. He breathes in deep through his nose, glancing down to see how Leo’s body stretches around him, and he curls his hands around his waist, circling one around to drag down his stomach. “You can _feel_ my dick in here,” he says, sounding a little dazed himself as he rocks forward, fucking in slowly.

 

“He’s so little,” Kaoru agrees, leaning forward, curling a hand around, feeling where Rei’s hand brushes there. “Holy shit, yeah, I can definitely feel it. Most whores this little wouldn’t be able to take a man your size, would they? Must be something…nnh, I’m gonna give him something to drink, you want to watch? Feeling you in him really did it for me.”

 

Rei nods rapidly, his fingers brushing against the outline of his own cock again before he decides that’s too much, and slides his hand hastily up to Leo’s nipples again instead, twisting, pulling the sore, overstimulated little nubs. “Please,” he groans, shoving in harder with each thrust, his own cock twitching inside of Leo as he leans forward over him. “Do it now, or I’m gonna be coming so hard I can’t watch.”

 

Kaoru loses his grip on Leo’s belly, loses his grip on _reality_ as he thrusts in again, mindless and hungry, only seeking more _pleasure_. He lets out a cry, then pulls back, letting the first hot pulse go down Leo’s throat into his belly, but spilling the rest of them into the boy’s mouth, over his lips and tongue, making him cough and gag even more. “Good whore,” he murmurs affectionately, petting Leo’s hair. “Look at him trying to swallow it all, oh, he’s crying, is that good?” He flicks a glance up at Rei, who knows this boy-king far better than Kaoru does, and hopefully knows how far he can be pushed.

 

“Uh huh,” Rei pants, bending forward to bury his face into the back of Leo’s neck, into his hair, nuzzling up behind his ear. “Means he loves it—don’t you, sweet? Don’t worry, I’ll give you—ahh—s-something else to try and swallow—“

 

Rei’s grip is vice-tight on Leo’s waist as he pulls him back onto his cock, each thrust slapping against his skin until he stills with a last, hard shove, spilling only when he’s buried entirely inside, filling him with pulse after pulse of his cock. “That’s…a good boy,” he groans, slumping forward, barely catching himself onto one hand. “You…better thank us for playing with you.”

 

For a long moment, the only sound from Leo is a gasping, ragged rhythm of air, sounding as if his every lungs are bruised and wet.

 

Then he struggles up onto his hands and knees properly, and turns his head, tear-streaked (and other-fluids-streaked) face turning to Rei. “Th-thank you, Milords,” he whispers, voice rough. “For using me…the way I should be used.”

 

“Good boy,” Rei praises again, his own voice still ragged at the edges as he pets a trembling, and far more gentle hand over Leo’s hair. “Ah…don’t move too much, I _will_ get hard again,” he adds with a breathy little laugh, bending down to brush a kiss to his temple. “Was that good? Want a breather, or want more?”

 

“Breather,” Leo pleads, laughing at himself a little as he does.”Ah…the idea of doing it over and over again sounds like so much fun until it starts to _sting_ , you know?”

 

“All too well,” Kaoru assures him, flopping down onto the bed to pet Leo’s hair alongside Rei. “I don’t believe we’ve formally met, but it is quite good to know you, M—“

 

“Leo,” Leo says quickly. “Don’t call me that like this, please. Just about anything but that.”

 

“I need to import more oil from the Shadowlands,” Rei laments, carefully easing himself out of Leo and flopping down onto the bed in a heap of Kaoru’s very old, very expensive heirloom of a cloak. He pulls over the edge of it to wipe Leo’s face, for good measure. “It makes everything easier, stings far less, makes a man as slick as a woman, and it smells _lovely_ —but it tends to sour as it passes over the border, and wasting magical resources on ‘sex oil’ makes other wizards roll their eyes, go figure. They just don’t understand.”

 

“Don’t put anything sour in me,” Leo protests, curling up into a tiny ball, pressed between two male chests.

 

“That cloak is a thousand years old,” Kaoru says, amused, looping his arms around both Leo and Rei. “How many times have we used it like this, love?”

 

“Some?” Rei cheerfully suggests, slinging an arm over Leo to press closer to him, and by virtue of that, closer to Kaoru. “I’m not putting anything sour in you; that oil is too hard to come by. Do you know what it’s made of?”

 

“Probably something your kindly debauched priest here is forbidden to use?” Leo suggests cheekily.

 

“Drake’s seed. I don’t know if Kaoru’s not allowed to use that…he seemed fairly charmed by Sena’s beauty on the occasions they’ve met, but that means little, if I’m to judge…”

 

Kaoru raises an eyebrow, stroking a finger down Rei’s shoulder. “Drake’s seed? I must ask, do you have pet drakes that you milk, or do they send samples? How do you tax such imports?”

 

“If you talk about taxing imports,” Leo moans, “I’m going to throw myself off the highest balcony this castle has.”

 

“It’s a secret of the trade. And definitely smuggled,” Rei sweetly says, batting his eyelashes over to Kaoru. “Shh, Leo, no taxing here. Only illegal Shadowlands nonsense.”

 

“Smuggling,” Leo says firmly, “is _fine_. I wish more people were smugglers, I don’t have to tax smugglers. I mean, I shouldn’t say that publicly, I need the taxes, but…uhh….you know…”

 

“Thus spake the king,” Kaoru says cheerfully, and kisses the top of Leo’s ear.

 

“I’ve been a smuggler for years, you must lo~ve me,” Rei hums, mouthing a kiss to the back of Leo’s neck as he idly tiptoes his fingers down from Kaoru’s hip.

 

“I love…” Leo trails off, then moves as quick as a snake, hand grabbing the shaft of Rei’s cock. “This.”

 

“He knows what you’re good for,” Kaoru laughs.

 

“He’s right, so help me,” Rei groans, rocking forward into the warm touch of Leo’s hand. “Ahh, be nice, I’m still touchy, it was too long since I fed…”

 

Leo unclenches his hand, resting it on Rei’s firm chest instead. “You need to drink more? You can. I’ve got lots of blood, pretty sure.”

 

“You’re thinking of my brother— _he’s_ the one that likes to drink until he’s bleeding out of his eyeballs,” Rei murmurs, snuggling closer and grabbing for Kaoru as well. “ _I’m_ the one that likes to fuck until he’s knock-kneed the next day.”

 

“I’m pretty sure I’m the one who won’t be able to walk,” Leo protests. “Stop acting like a victim, you get to stick it in the king’s ass all night.”

 

“You think I’m acting like a victim? I _think_ I’m enjoying myself even when you said you wanted a breather.” Rei paws at Kaoru again. “Looove, pet _me_ for a moment.”

 

“Greedy, I thought we were here to take care of our king,” Kaoru laughs, and squirms, getting himself between Leo and Rei, curling around his “wife” with all four limbs. “If you’re good to me,” he murmurs into the soft skin of Rei’s neck, “I might even let you…be good to me again, my pretty demon.”

 

“He’s not our king, lest you forget—he’s our whore,” Rei says with a sigh, flopping his head back to let Kaoru at his neck as he strokes a hand down his spine. “I’ll be good to you every which way. Leo, I don’t think I’ve ever asked you—what are your opinions on women?”

 

Leo’s expression turns suddenly wary, and his eyes flick around, as if someone’s listening in. “Um…they’re fine, I guess? Not as good as Izumi.”

 

“Liar!” Kaoru accuses, tweaking one of Leo’s nipples, making him squeak. “I can always tell when a man likes tits, and this one does.” He narrows his eyes, head tilted. “Small ones, though. Perky.”

 

“That’s—that’s just—you can’t—that’s just—“

 

“Kaoru’s an expert on such things,” Rei says, amused, and his form shifts seamlessly as he automatically slides an arm down underneath his breasts to lift them. “Apologies, they aren’t small, but this is just what they want to be when I’m a woman. Leo, did you know it’s possible to appreciate other people while still being in love? Why is that such a difficult concept for humans…”

 

Leo groans, covering his face with his hands, quite missing the way Kaoru immediately buries his face. “Izumi…you know him. He wouldn’t understand. He’d say I should just marry a woman and do my duty, then, I…uuuuuugh, I don’t wanna talk about it!”

 

“No one’s going to tell,” Kaoru says softly, and grabs one of Leo’s hands, dragging it to Rei’s breast, making him squeak. “If you want to have a night with a lady.”

 

“I can’t, I—“

 

“And he’s sterile. Must be, for all the seed I’ve spilled in him. No royal bastards.”

 

Leo’s eyes slit slightly open, and his hand relaxes, cupping the heavy swell of one breast, slowly exhaling as his cock stiffens. “They’re…really nice…”

 

“…Have you _never_ been with a woman?” Rei curiously asks, breath hitching as Leo’s fingers curl against one breast, brushing over a nipple. He shifts, coiling a leg about Kaoru’s waist to draw him in. “Those were some elaborate rumors floating about, then. And here I thought I was the only creature in the whole damned country that refused such a thing…”

 

“You just don’t _like_ girls,” Kaoru points out, rubbing the head of his cock up against one smooth thigh, the head rubbing against that sweet opening he knows so well. “That’s different from refusing them.”

 

“I like girls,” Leo admits, and lowers his face, strangely hesitant as he seals his mouth around a nipple, flicking over it with his tongue, whimpering a little as he does, cock stiffening immediately.

 

Rei gasps, arching with a hitching little moan and reaching out to fist long fingers into Leo’s hair, pulling his mouth down more firmly. “More for both of you, then,” he breathes, his face hot as he squeezes his thighs about Kaoru’s hips. “Feel how wet I am already, love? That’s for you, so please…”

 

“All for me?” Kaoru teases, fingertips trailing up and down Rei’s elbow, his lips dotting kisses along Rei’s neck. “But that wouldn’t be very sweet to our king, who’s never tasted a woman, would it?”

 

And with that, he grabs Leo’s hair, shifting to drag Leo’s head down between Rei’s legs with a loud, startled squeak before a tentative, nervous lick.

 

“T-this is…an unrealistic expectation for him, I think?” Rei gasps, even as his fingers twist up more thoroughly into Leo’s hair, not letting him pull away. “Not only because, nnh, I’m easy, but _apparently_ because I taste like honey, and you’ve informed me that’s not uuusalll…hahh, be _soft_ with that tongue or I’m going to come too fast!”

 

“Then let him enjoy it for his first time,” Kaoru breathes into Rei’s ear, licking up the shell, squirming to get behind Rei, hands stroking and cupping and teasing his breasts. “He’ll deal with the fishwives in their markets soon enough, let him try on the easiest level.”

 

“If you think this is easy,” comes Leo’s muffled voice between tentative licks, “you’ve never seen a woman down here. It’s complicated!”

 

“Because you’re _talking_ , you don’t talk when you do it,” Rei groans as he slumps back into Kaoru, and shoves Leo’s face back down more thoroughly with one hand. His legs shake, and it takes effort not to clamp them to either side of Leo’s head when each drag of that tongue becomes a bit more confident.

 

Leo’s tongue wriggles out, determined, his hands pressing into Rei’s thighs, tongue dragging up from as low as he can reach to the top of the slit, then back down again, questing for the hole, the source of that sweet nectar.

 

“Have you ever even seen a naked woman?” Kaoru asks, startled to watch Leo flailing around. “Rei, spread your legs, let him see what he’s working with. What do they even teach children these days in the Capitol?”

 

“This is why I don’t want a noble’s baby in me, I want a terrible disowned priest’s,” Rei huffs, obediently spreading his legs no matter how he’s _inclined_ to give Leo a swift kick in the head. “Forget the hole, you brat—up _here_ ,” he firmly says, dragging Leo’s mouth up by the hair to the little nub nestled up higher, between those folds. “Put your tongue on that, _gently_ , gently…”

 

Leo cocks his head, staring down at the little nub of flesh, intensely curious, questing with his fingertips first. “Is it…like a girl’s cock?” he asks, mystified. “Is that where your seed comes out?”

 

“Give it a kiss and find out,” Kaoru suggests, and Leo obeys, covering the area with gentle licks, then a soft, inquisitive suck between his lips.

 

Rei’s hips arch with a breathy, panting little moan leaving his throat. He’s on edge enough that just that bit of clumsy stimulation makes him squirm—lucky for Leo, he really _is_ quite push-button—and his fingers curl more tightly against the base of Leo’s skull. “B-better, that’s much better,” he breathes, head lolling back against Kaoru’s shoulder. “Your f-future wives are going to _thank you_ , gods be damned I can’t believe Izumi never taught you a single thing about women…”

 

Leo starts to lift his head to respond, but Kaoru grabs his head as well, yanking his head down. “Little circles with your tongue,” he says firmly, and Leo complies, paying more attention to that little nub of nerves. “And don’t stop until I let you go, don’t you _dare_ stop just because you assume she’s done.”

 

“My—h-hero— _ah_ —“ Rei whimpers, his other hand scrabbling to cling to whatever part of Kaoru he can sink his fingers into, panting as Leo’s tongue starts to make his hips arch with every stroke. His thighs tremble, and the struggle to keep them open is lost when Leo’s tongue settles into a rhythm that sends little shocks down Rei’s spine, making his toes curl and his legs squeeze to either side of Leo’s head to hold him in place.

 

Kaoru’s teeth flash, and he nibbles on Rei’s neck, nipping and biting just under his ear, down to his collarbone, then up again. His hands knead and pinch at Rei’s nipples, just the kind of stimulation that he knows combine with an eager young tongue to force a beautiful woman over the edge. “You’ve got a king between your legs,” he murmurs. “But right now, he’s just a hungry mouth who loves serving you, how does that feel?”

 

“C….considering I’m…ahh…his _Empress_ …he should be doing this more often,” Rei breathes out, his eyes rolling back as Kaoru’s fingers make him arch, trembling with every single pull to his nipples. They’re sensitive enough when he’s in a male body; as a woman, it’s even _worse_ , somehow. “Fuck… _fuck_ , t-that’s so…”

 

Leo’s tongue swipes against him, hot and wet and eager, and Rei’s breath hitches raggedly, his fingers grabbing at Leo’s hair to hold him in that exact spot when his hips rut up again, again, as the crest of his orgasm slowly overcoming him and leaving him a panting, trembling mess that sags back into Kaoru’s chest.

 

Kaoru waits for it to subside, then taps Leo’s head, letting him up. Leo gasps at the air a bit, then rests his cheek on one pale thighs, looking from up at Rei’s face down to between his legs. “Oh, no,” he says softly. “I’m going to want to do that…a lot more often, oh, shit.”

 

“If you like, I’ll arrange a meeting with a fishwife I know,” Kaoru volunteers helpfully. “Bush like a thicket, sheds like a she-wolf, and never smells of anything but trout. You’ll be cured in no time.”

 

Rei gags involuntarily, and whips around to slap Kaoru’s shoulder. “Stop, _stop_ , you’ll make me want to _die_ ,” he hisses, still trembling. “Why do you have to say things like that, women are already _so_ unappealing!”

 

“How dare you?” Kaoru asks, laughing. “She’s one of my favorites, bucks like a stallion, with great big thighs that could crush me to death. You’re cruel to the fairer sex, Rei, you always have been.”

 

“Ah, are you like Captain Arashi, then?” Leo asks, curious. “You can’t even see one without wilting?”

 

“I don’t even like to look at myself when I’m like this, you know,” Rei bemoans, recoiling to stuff his face into Kaoru’s neck. “It’s a terrible curse for a sex wizard, only liking men.”

 

“…Izumi would say different,” Leo says softly, squirming up to wrap his arms around Rei’s neck, stuffing his face into Rei’s chest. “He wishes he didn’t still want women. I can see it. He gets so…angry at himself, I don’t know how to tell him it’s all right. I took a concubine, asked him for help, I _hoped_ it would make him feel better, but…nothing.”

 

“They make good pillows, don’t they?” Rei sighs, amused, as he pets Leo’s hair and snuggles back into Kaoru for good measure. “Izumi isn’t a sex wizard. He feeds on lust, it’s different, fundamentally. I—well. I’m useless around women, so there’s no point. Certainly, his entire self would be much easier to manage if he would give it up and sleep with women again, but his magic as a wizard isn’t directly hindered by not doing so…just. The whole rest of his person. Sorry, I know that’s more technicalities than you wanted to hear about.”

 

“I don’t get it,” Leo admits. “I don’t know anything about magic, not really. Honestly, I understand why some people in the past wanted to outlaw it, or why the Emperor wanted to keep such tight control of it, it’s too easy for some people to abuse.”

 

“Hear, hear,” Kaoru mutters. “My people have been saying that for centuries.”

 

“It’s impossible for normal humans to understand—don’t give me that look, your abilities are learned, _learned_ , you filthy priest,” Rei sniffs, taking a snap directly at Kaoru’s throat, fangs out. “Of course it’s easy to abuse. It’s _magic._ That’s why you need someone on your side in charge of the Academy, otherwise you _will_ be taken advantage of.”

 

“Exactly,” Leo says, pleased. “I’m glad you understand it. Thanks for being on my side.”

 

“Lucky for you, hmm?” Rei’s eyes lid, fingers tiptoeing their way down Leo’s spine. “A pity that I am sterile, in a way. A King and an Emperor’s child, imagine that.”

 

Leo shivers, looking up into Rei’s eyes. “Powerful as anything, I think. Politically and magically. Hey, speaking of powerful, I heard those in the Sandlands think we might want to make a new category of cloaks for people like Shu and Mika, what comes after midnight but before dawn?”

 

“The public is already wary enough of Shu; let’s not put a target on his back even more,” Rei quietly says, fingers curling up into the ends of Leo’s hair. “He’s always been that strong, you know. Why do you think the previous Emperor wanted to crush him so badly?”

 

“…I could say some things about that,” Leo says softly. “But no one wants to hear me talk about him.”

 

“Because you’re trying to talk to the wrong people, I wager. You know I don’t give a damn, just don’t say his name outright.” Rei shifts, glancing back to Kaoru. “Put your hands on my tits or I’m putting them away.”

 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Kaoru protests, cupping Rei’s breasts from behind as he shifts suddenly, the tip of his cock sliding suddenly into Rei’s slick hole. “I was trying to defer to my king.”

 

Rei’s breath catches on a hiccuping gasp, which quickly turns into a low, pleased groan as he lifts his hips and arches them back to help Kaoru’s cock sink inside. “I’m your _wife_ , I’m far more your king than he’ll ever be,” he sighs, entirely uncaring of how utterly treasonous that is.

 

“I’m pretty sure that’s treason,” Leo mutters, but drops his head to Rei’s breast anyway, suckling gently as he had down between his legs.

 

“Did he ever tell you,” Kaoru breathes in Rei’s ear, though the words are for Leo as his hips move, rocking slowly up into Rei’s body, “that I thought he was a woman when we met? Lady Reina, I was so foolishly in love…but you are my lady, aren’t you? No matter what form you wear, you’ll _always_ be _mine_ …”

 

Rei shivers hard, reflexively squeezing down when Kaoru’s warm breath washes against his skin, sending goosebumps down his spine. Like this, Kaoru’s cock feels even thicker inside, filling him up so thoroughly that it takes his breath away when he wriggles down, trying to feel _more_ all the same. “Who let you have the _best_ cock, _who_ ,” Rei moans, turning his head to rub a flushed cheek against Kaoru’s shoulder as he tugs helplessly on Leo’s hair. “Ah—fuck—w-with those, you can be a little rougher, Leo, it feels good…”

 

Leo obediently starts moving his mouth more, bringing his hands up to grab one of Rei’s breasts, squeezing and stroking as he sucks, bringing it closer to his mouth as his noises grow louder, more eager.

 

“He’s trainable, right?” Kaoru fairly purrs, rocking a little deeper into Rei with every thrust, nipping at his neck between words. “We could teach him to be such a good little lover, my sweet, how many eager young lads have we trained like that?”

 

“More…than a few,” Rei breathes, eyes lidded as he just grinds down slowly, mindlessly, savoring every single rock of Kaoru’s hips, of that thick cock filling him up so completely. Leo’s mouth makes him twitch and shiver, each suck going directly southward, making him clench and groan, low in the back of his throat.

 

Leo’s eyes flick up, and he replaces his mouth with his fingers, though his eyes linger on Rei’s face for a moment before looking lower, watching Kaoru’s cock sinking deep into that tight hole. “Is this good?” he asks, rubbing, stroking. “Is there something else I should be doing with my mouth instead?”

 

“If you—put your mouth on my clit again right now, I’ll probably die,” Rei groans, pulling Leo’s hair to drag his mouth _up_ instead, kissing him hard and reaching down to wrap his fingers around Leo’s cock. “And if you stop touching my tits, I’m going to be pissed. Ahh—fuck, Kaoru, riiight there…”

 

“Don’t worry, little King,” Kaoru murmurs, burying his face in Rei’s neck, rocking his hips in a swift, deep motion that rubs the head of his cock in a demanding rhythm against that sweetest angle inside of Rei. “I’m nearly done here.”

 

Leo gasps, back arching, and lowers his mouth again immediately, wrapping his lips around the other nipple, sucking as if it’s about to produce life-giving sustenance.

 

Rei’s mouth falls open, giving up on words for a moment to better enjoy the perfect way Kaoru moves within him, something long-memorized between the two of them. “G…good boy,” he manages to gasp, fingers tightly clinging to Leo’s hair to keep his mouth _exactly_ where he wants it. “W-when Kaoru’s done…” His fingers give Leo’s cock a slow squeeze, but no more. “Maybe I’ll let you finish inside me. T-then you can say…you’ve really had a woman.”

 

Leo whimpers, the idea enough to make him painfully hard, licking and nibbling and sucking as he’s bid by Rei’s strong hand. His cock aches, rubbing against Rei’s hand, which in itself is as sweet and tender as any hole he’s ever been inside.

 

Kaoru thrusts grow more urgent, but hold to that sweet rhythm, knowing exactly how Rei loves to be fucked, hands gripping his hips to hold him perfectly in place. “Give him such a sweet ending, my love, I’m about to vacate—ahhh, you’re so _tight_ , love, here’s a present for your belly…”

 

“Please—“ The hot, slick rush of Kaoru coming inside of him takes his breath away, leaves him shivering down to his curling toes for a moment as he grabs at Leo, yanks him in closer, squirming back against Kaoru to savor every single pulse of his cock inside. “You just—you just _wait_ ,” Rei pants out, pulling Leo’s mouth up and out of his breasts. “You aren’t allowed to come…until you’re in me, understand?” he breathes, stealing a kiss to Leo’s mouth as he lifts himself off of Kaoru’s cock with a great deal of effort, collapsing back onto the bed proper and dragging Leo up between his legs.

 

Leo wastes no time, and needs no urging nor guidance, not as eager and young and ready as he is. He squirms on top of Rei, kisses his mouth just once, and reaches down to grab his own cock, seeking out that elusive hole and sliding suddenly deep inside with a whimpered sigh. “That’s—it’s not going to be long—sorry—“

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Rei breathes, back arching as Leo slides inside, grabbing at his back as soft white thighs squeeze about his hips. “Get off in me—please, Leo, I need it—“

 

Leo squeaks, his hips piston, he yelps, and then it’s over, all over, as if somehow he’s gone back to being a child of sixteen and feeling a hand on his prick for the first time. He groans, then sags down, flopping bonelessly across Rei’s body.

 

“Ah,” Kaoru remarks, tone light and amused. “That’s…something. How cute.”

 

“Weren’t _we_ talking about acting like teenagers?” Rei says with a ragged laugh, flopping his head back to grin up at Kaoru, a trickle of sweat escaping down from his hair. “But this takes the cake. Leo, you’re so _charming_ sometimes.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Leo groans, his face muffled in enormous tits. “I’m sorry, I’m usually better at sex, I swear.”

 

“Suuure. Get it back up and prove it. Want me to bite you?”

 

“Yep,” Leo says cheerfully, and tilts his head to the side. “If you want to be on top this time, my thighs are sore.”

 

“I’ll let you two crazy kids handle this round,” Kaoru says with a laugh, flopping down harder onto the bed. “Tap me in for round four.”

 

“I’m sore _everywhere_ and I’m not quitting, humans are delicate,” Rei complains, stretching over to steal a kiss from Kaoru’s mouth before grabbing at Leo again and giving his neck an experimental little nip. He doesn’t actually bite yet, just contemplates it. “You just want me to suffocate you in my tits. Those things are heavy to hold up, you know.”

 

Leo shivers, his cock giving a weak little twitch that makes him bite his lip, oversensitive and overstimulated, but not willing to stop. “I’ll gladly be your furniture,” he offers, with a lopsided grin.

 

Rei blinks a few times, then snorts out a laugh as he gives Leo’s cheek an amused pat. “You really want a woman to tie you up and have her way with you, don’t you.”

 

“I mean. I wouldn’t _mind_.”

 

“Too bad. You need to get a real wife for that one. You know, I’ve heard _stories_ about drakes being able to shapeshift…”

 

Leo’s eyes widen, and he sits up suddenly. “Really? Are they real stories? Could he learn to turn female? I know there aren’t any spells, I had them look it up a dozen times, but…”

 

“You _will_ keep your dick in me, or I will eat you,” Rei threatens, clamping his thighs around Leo’s hips to hold him in place. “Well, drakes are a peculiar species. Not a lot is known about them, and it’s certainly been long enough that any stories of drake wizards have been lost. For one, something that’s bothered me for awhile—he was still able to have children. Wizards, even before they bloom, are _always_ sterile. Maybe he’ll bear you a child yet, hmm?”

 

“G-gods—“

 

Leo’s hips thrust forward, and a tear spills from his eye, all at once, his face a battlefield of warring emotions. “I—I don’t want anything in the world as much as I want th-that, you know…if there’s any way, any sacrifice I have to make, I’ll do it, how do we find out?”

 

“I have no idea,” Rei sighs, petting a hand down Leo’s sweaty back, both soothing and encouraging all at once. “In the meantime, you should learn how to fuck a woman properly, just in case. I bet _his_ tits are—what was it, Kaoru, love? Small and perky?”

 

“Small and perky,” Kaoru agrees, even as Leo lets out a pathetic little noise, hips rutting down and into Rei eagerly. “Do you like a lot of hair, Majesty? Or, there are some ladies that keep it clean and bare down there, so you can see the slick of her spread out over her thighs when you’re done with her?”

 

“I…” Leo gulps, face flushed. “I don’t, I don’t know, I think it’s all fine? As long as it’s…him…”

 

“If it’s Izumi, he’d shave it all off,” Rei says with a ragged laugh, the sound trailing off into a hitching little sigh when Leo gets lucky with how he thrusts in. “Mmn, that, again,” he murmurs, arching his hips up to better grind into the movement of Leo’s hips. “Be good, not too fast…I _know_ it’s nice and slick, but you still need to be sweet…”

 

Leo obediently slows, searching, seeking a rhythm, shifting to brace himself on his knees, then on his hands, tight on Rei’s shoulders. “Like this?” he breathes, eyes alight, feeling the slick squeeze of Rei’s hole around his cock. “How do women…like to be talked to?”

 

“Not…so differently than men, I’d imagine,” Rei gasps, his eyes fluttering as Leo falls into a rhythm that makes his chest heave from the sweetness of it, and his legs tremble as he squeezes them about Leo’s waist. “At least, _I_ like it the same…no matter what form I’m in…Kaoru c-could advise you more thoroughly, I’m suuure…nhh…that’s it, pull me down onto it when you fuck me, it feels good when it’s in so deep…”

 

“Your arms up here, love,” Kaoru breathes, and guides Leo’s arms, twisting them underneath Rei’s shoulders to grip them from below, all the better to yank him down onto each thrust. “Like that, see how it’s easy to move her where you want her? Feel how tight she gets around you when you do that? It’s because she loves how it feels to have a man inside her, that’s what she loves. Tell her she’s good at taking you deep inside, tell her she’s the best you’ve ever had.”

 

“Just like men, then,” Leo breathes, and lowers his mouth to Rei’s breast, nipping at the creamy flesh, sucking on that nipple again as he thrusts in.

 

“Thank the gods…you’re a fast learner—“ Rei cuts himself off with a squeak when Leo’s mouth closes over a nipple again, the sore, overstimulated little nub sending a bolt of heat straight down his spine. He throws an arm over his face as he sags back, panting up towards the ceiling as he wriggles down, trying to grind into each thrust, succeeding for the most part, but giving up when his trembling thighs get the better of him and he just lets Leo fuck into him instead. “Much…m-much better— _ah_ —“

 

There’s no _reason_ to come so suddenly, and Rei entirely blames the addition of Kaoru’s voice. It makes him clench down tighter, each little spasm of muscle making him shiver and jerk. “You don’t…nh…don’t need to stop…”

 

Leo gives Rei a chagrined, embarrassed look before his face screws up, his thrusts grow ragged, and he spills deep inside of Rei with an almighty groan, pulling out immediately after. “A-ah, ah, that time…nnh, it stings now,” he groans, flopping onto the bed on his side. “Damn. You’re incredible. Stop it, I’ll fall in love.”

 

Rei flops back with a long, heaving sigh, cheeks flushed and hair sweaty. “Muuuch better that time, good boy…nhh, you’re a liar, you’ve got a pretty boy to go chase after. You can fuck me whenever, though.” Rei throws out an arm, grabbing for Kaoru. “Pet me. Do I sound hungry now?”

 

“You sound happy,” Kaoru murmurs, settling in to cuddle Rei close. “You’re both really good, you know that? Mm, with a boy like this on the throne, I almost believe we’re going to survive all of these apocalyptic things heading our way.”

 

The only answer from Leo is a soft snore.

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

All right, so, the North is cold.

 

Tori knew this, in an abstract sort of way. At least, he’d known that there was a place called The North, and also known that there was a sensation called “cold.”

 

Knowing those two things has completely and utterly failed to prepare him for the reality. Even in his small carriage, wrapped up in every fur he’s ever purchased off a mildly reputable tradesman, he shivers most of the way to Sena, only the top of his head poking out of his bundle, wreathed in misery. Upon arriving, he of course has Yuzuru carry him into what must be the Great Hall. “They’re definitely going to be having a celebration for me,” he mutters, ignoring the fact that no one knows he’s coming, as he’s on a secret mission.

 

Upon seeing the empty, half-destroyed hall, into which Yuzuru sets him down, his face falls.

 

This isn’t going to be fun at _all_.

 

“Hello?” Tori calls, hearing the words echoed back at him, then puts his hands on his hips. “Hey! I came all this way, you know! And it’s fucking _cold_ , you shits! Come out here and welcome me properly!”

 

What comes, instead, is the sleek black head of a horse, poking around a corner of broken stone. It nickers, low and dangerously, sounding far more like a growl than any sound a normal, flesh and bone horse should make, before it slowly steps forward, its hooves barely making a sound.

 

“Bitch, _no._ ”

 

The horse snarls— _snarls_ , just like a dog—baring sharp teeth that are clearly made for eating flesh, not grain. Obviously, the animal is not pleased about being ordered around, but it stops all the same, pawing at the snow-covered floor of a building that once-was as a head of red hair pokes up from the snow. “Excellency,” Mao greets, his brow furrowing. “How…interesting. I received word the crown was sending another wizard up here, but _you_ …”

 

Tori looks over at Mao, and then his face falls into a growl. “Yuzuru!” he shrills. “Kill him, this is my mission!”

 

“No, no it is not!” Mao hastily says, diving behind the wall of evil demon horse that is Bitch, even when that seems ill-advised. “Trust me, Excellency, that is _not_ the case! I’m just here to check on you, that’s all! You know the law—there must be at least _two_ Enhanced for every three wizards, and, well!”

 

“I don’t need to be checked on!” Tori shrieks, grabbing a loose piece of stone and throwing it, which drops to the ground several feet before it even pisses Bitch off. “I just _got_ here—how’d you get here so fast? I want your carriage secrets! And I want you to go home, I have Yuzuru to keep watch!”

 

“You are not the only wizard here, Excellency!” Mao calls out around the horse, who just stares at the stone, ears pinned. “I can’t leave now!”

 

“The hell are you all doing?”

 

Silver hair flutters against the backdrop of snow, and Lord Izumi of the North strides over to them with a strange, bouncy lizard creature in tow, a scowl on his face. “Mao? _Tori?_ And…whoever you are, whatever, what the hell are you all doing here? You’re going to bring creatures out from the shadows with all the noise you’re making!”

 

Tori wraps his arms around himself, shifting from foot to foot, feeling more frustrated by the moment. “I’m here as help from Rei,” he complains. “I’m really rich and I’ve been training for decades, I’m the best Nooncloak in the Academy, so I’m here for glory against horrible enemies. So take me where it’s warm and give me a comfortable room! And one for my slave!”

 

Izumi stares at Tori for a long moment, his eyes narrowing. “You. They sent… _you._ ”

 

Tori preens. “You’re welcome. I’m yours to…well, I’m at your service, anyway. So you’re _welcome_ , feel free to spoil me out of gratitude.”

 

Izumi’s gaze swivels to Mao. “Take it back.”

 

Mao lifts his hands up. “I didn’t do this. I had nothing to do with this.”

 

“Your money isn’t going to do anything up here. Neither is your…whatever you think being cute, stuffy little lord is going to do, it won’t help.”

 

Tori’s mouth drops open. “Do you—do you have _any idea_ how powerful I am?” he demands. “You’re so stupid! Ungrateful! Shitty! I’m the best help you could ever have, and you’re really really awful! It’s _cold_ up here, do you think Rei would have sent someone who _hated_ it so much if I wasn’t going to be useful? You fucking country hick brat?”

 

“Perhaps a missive from the King Regent himself would allow you to better understand the situation, Excellency,” Yuzuru briskly interrupts, striding forward to pass Izumi a letter still sealed with the king’s wax seal.

 

“The King _Regent_ ,” Izumi flatly echoes, staring down at the letter, frowning, before prying it open with a fingernail.

 

_Lord Izumi,_

_Your message has been received. Pending further approval from the Emperor and King, I’ve sent one of my own wizards. Please make sure he’s put to proper use and returned unharmed. If you are unsure of how to manage a proper battle wizard, please consult Captain Arashi._

 

_Signed,_

_Lord Tsukasa, Acting King Regent_

 

“…Inside,” Izumi flatly orders, turning around and waving for Tori to follow as he folds up the letter in his grasp. “ _Just_ Tori. I don’t have room for Enhanced, go find the outpost or something.”

 

Tori turns, makes a rude gesture at Mao, then laughs and follows Izumi to another room, still shivering from the cold. “Good choice! I’m much more interesting, you know. And way more useful in battle, he’s not even a very _good_ Enhanced, I heard he has to keep getting charged up by letting demons feed on him, isn’t that gross? Yuzuru, go fetch me some tea!”

 

“I said no Enhanced. Your servant doesn’t get to come either.”

 

Izumi plucks Tori up by the back of his cloak, tossing him directly into the main Keep, full of large, hairy Northern men before he slams the door shut behind them. “Welcome to the North, brat. Follow me, and if you’re a little shit to Makoto, I’ll beat your ass.”

 

“That’s a girl,” comes a rumble, though from which of the men, it’s impossible to tell.

 

“A _pretty_ girl.”

 

“You got a husband, pretty lady?”

 

“I’ll give you one!”

 

Tori leaps up onto Izumi’s back, eyes wide. “Izumi! This is your fault, I want my slave to protect me! Fuck you all, I’m a _man!_ ”

 

“Pretty man, then,” one man says, undeterred, to general laughter.

 

Izumi rolls his eyes, prying Tori off of his back with a grunt of effort. “Don’t climb me, have some pride. Yes, I know you lot are _dying_ without your wives, but I told you, the orgy’s scheduled when the sun sets and not sooner. If you’re nice, maybe this one’ll show up.”

 

At least his men think he’s amusing, even if Tori is a jittery mess of nerves as Izumi drags him along through the laughter. “It’s a joke, don’t look at me like that,” he mutters, shoving Tori forward and into his private chambers. “Arashi! Special delivery, from Kasa, apparently.”

 

“I am not a delivery! Just special! And awesome! And—“

 

“And exactly what we need,” Arashi declares with absolute relief, standing from the bed immediately, bowing deeply to Tori. “Ah, thank the gods, I’m so glad. How long do you get him for?”

 

Izumi’s expression is decidedly skeptical. “He’s been a Capital wizard for the past five years,” he deadpans, talking over Tori. “Wouldn’t _you_ have gotten him in the West if he was so useful? He’s squishy, look at him.”

 

“He wasn’t old enough when I needed wizards,” Arashi explains, equally ignoring Tori’s huffing and spitting and hissing. “Otherwise I’d have absolutely asked for him, everyone was watching him grow up and talking about how great he’d be for those situations, weren’t you listening?”

 

Tori stops spitting and relaxes, preening a bit. “Yeah! That’s right! There were _prophecies_ about me!”

 

“There were not, don’t exaggerate.”

 

“Well, well, lots of fancy people talked about how great I’d be, that’s the same!”

 

“Not for nothing, Arashi,” Izumi lowly says, flipping Tori’s cloak up and over his head as he strides closer to his lover, “I tried—and still do try—to directly avoid those wizards that were accused of crimes against the king. This little brat was, too—even if he’s sort of cute, I’ll admit. Anyway, what you’re telling me is he _might_ be great, not that he _is_ great.”

 

“Ah…yeah. But I’ll take it, right now. You’re not good at hitting things from a long way away yet, are you?” Arashi asks.

 

Izumi’s mouth purses, and he swiftly changes subjects. “Also distressing—why is _Kasa_ the King Regent right now? Why is there a _King Regent_ right now? Answer, you shit,” Izumi says, turning around to unflip Tori’s cloak. “What did you all do with my king? How do I know this isn’t just an elaborate coup again?”

 

Tori glares up at Izumi, hands on his hips. “Be nicer to me!” he orders. “You were nice before, be nice to me now and I’ll tell you stuff!”

 

“I was nice before? But I’m never nice.” Izumi leans over him, eyebrows raised. “You must be imagining things. Ah, right…I was nice to your _sister_ , wasn’t I? Or maybe that was you, you both have such girly asses…”

 

Tori stares at him for a minute, slowly turning purple. Then, he folds his arms across his narrow chest, huffing. “Fuck you. The king is dead.”

 

Izumi turns to Arashi, shrugging. “Guess we better toss this one out into the snow.”

 

“Wait, no! The snow is so cold! Fuck you, fine, I’ll tell, but you’d better let me have my slave and my tea!”

 

“No slave, and all we’ve got is straight black, if you want that,” Izumi dismissively says, pulling up a chair to drop himself down into, crossing his legs. “Let’s hear it. What’s been going on in the Capital? The Emperor’s been cagey as hell about telling me anything, and hearing that the king’s not around now makes me unhappy.”

 

“This is why I miss Eichi,” Tori grumbles, sitting down on his rump with a huff. “He was _nice_ to me. He always had sweets.”

 

“Speak his name again, and I’ll toss you out into the snow, information and ability to make shit explode be damned.”

 

Unexpectedly, Tori bursts into tears.

 

Arashi sighs, and glares at Izumi. “I believe,” he says slowly, “that you were warned, a long time ago, that wizards are delicate and difficult to bully. I don’t want him to blow me up, all right? I’m going to go on patrol so if he explodes…well, I won’t be here.”

 

“I’m a wizard! I’m not delicate and I like it when you bully me!” Izumi exasperatedly says, throwing up a hand in frustration. “Fine. Take the snog and go, I think Isara’s out there still, too, so feel free to harass him for information. _He_ doesn’t cry when you tease him a little.”

 

“C’mon, Cupcake,” Arashi says cheerfully, and gives Izumi’s shoulder a hefty clap. “Good luck. This one is…well, good luck.” And with that, he and Cupcake trot out, slamming the giant door shut.

 

With Arashi gone, it’s a bit easier to not be as…harsh, with someone like Tori.

 

Izumi heaves a sigh, picks himself up from the chair, and sets a hand atop Tori’s head, ruffling his hair. “Oi. Quit crying already. You’re supposed to be a lord, aren’t you? Lords don’t cry when someone picks on them a little.”

 

Tori sniffles, scrubbing his face with his hands. “I’m _not_ a lord anymore,” he says, lip trembling, face red. “Had to renounce all my titles, like you. I was third in line for the throne! Don’t you think I’d go back to that if I could? But I’m _here_ , I’m _working_ , I’m putting myself in harm’s way, and you’re so ungrateful!”

 

Izumi’s head tilts almost entirely sideways. “I didn’t renounce anything,” he slowly says, sinking down to crouch in front of him. “Maybe that’s how it used to be, but no one took my titles away. They just…put them on hold, more or less, but now I’ve fucked off, so nothing’s changed. Besides, fuck them. You’re still a _lord_ , even if…well, I guess you were also considered a traitor, so you’ve got another layer of it working against you,” Izumi absently adds. “Anyway, I’m not ungrateful, just worried.”

 

“How could I have been a traitor?” Tori demands, eyes bleary, looking utterly wretched. “I was given to the Emperor, had to swear all kinds of oaths to him, and he served the King, you’re the one who backed a rebellion! A coup! You just get to call it justice now because you _won_ , I was just doing my job!”

 

“And you’re telling me you _liked_ all the restrictions that were placed upon you as a wizard,” Izumi flatly says. “You, apparently, had to give up all of your titles—whereas now, wizards can own land, marry, actually _have_ lovers. Before, your lover would get killed before he could even leave this.” He reaches out, prodding one of the dark red hickeys peeking out over the furs on Tori’s neck.

 

Tori squeaks, slapping a hand over the hickey, curling up into a ball, knees to chest. “I—that’s—listen up, you! And you _did_ give up your title, it’s part of all those files you signed when you came to live in the Academy, you can’t serve two masters.”

 

“Yeah, bullshit. Rei didn’t mention any of that.” That’s an unsettling pit of anxiety in his stomach now, though, thanks very much, and he decides to shove that to the back of his mind for the time being. “Whatever. Back to the topic at hand—why is Tsukasa the King Regent? Where’s the actual _King?_ ”

 

Tori shrugs. “No one knows. He just came into Tsukasa’s room really in the morning, patted him on the shoulder, and said, hold the throne for a week or two, I’m going on vacation. That’s the last anyone heard of him. Um……………………………..or so I heard.”

 

Izumi groans as he straightens to his feet, wiping his hands down his face. “I’m going to kill him. Right—so he’s gone. Shu mentioned to me there was some kind of…threat, within the Capital? Do you know anything about that?”

 

Tori blinks, blankly. “Uh…maybe he means the grain shortage?”

 

“No, he meant a person. A creature, maybe.”

 

“Oh! The dragon, probably? But I thought he was friends with the king, it’s supposed to be a big secret, but I saw them flying away…”

 

“The dragon.” Izumi’s voice is monotone. “The Warden of the West, you mean. _He’s_ the reason why Leo left?”

 

“I dunno if he’s the _reason_ , but I’m pretty sure he’s the vehicle.”

 

“Thanks. I’m going to kill him.” Izumi paces across the room, then back. “At least then, maybe he isn’t near whatever Shu thinks is dangerous in the Capital? Because I don’t think it’s the Warden, Arashi said _he_ asked for him. Great, another thing I can’t immediately deal with.” Izumi bites at his lower lip. “Were you briefed at all about the situation up here?”

 

“No!” Tori protests. “I’m drastically unappreciated and uninformed! I just know that there’s a lot of bad stuff killing your people, and I’m supposed to kill it back. And you’re _mean_ to me, and you don’t even have good tea!”

 

“That’s because the entirety of the North has nearly been killed. The last thing I’ve got to worry about is whether or not there’s good tea, sorry.”

 

Izumi sucks in a calming breath, then gives up, and flops down onto the floor with Tori. “You’re telling me that _Tsukasa_ didn’t inform you of anything going on up here. Tsukasa, neurotic, nitpicking planner Tsukasa.”

 

“He said he didn’t know what kind of creature you were facing,” Tori says, shrugging. “So what is it? Where is it? Where do I blow up?”

 

“I…don’t know. Well, I know what it is. Sort of? The drakes called it a Drude.”

 

Tori shrugs again. “Never heard of it. What does it do? When is it coming back?”

 

“What do they even teach wizards in the Academy?” Izumi grouses, looking away. “I don’t know when it’ll be back, but I can tell you what it does—apparently, burn the shit out of everything with fire that won’t stop burning, and destroy my entire country. The most I can do is wait, and when it _does_ show up, try to blow it to bits. I guess that’s when you’ll come in handy, huh?”

 

“Yep,” Tori says cheerfully. “We’d be a good team, the three of us. He can look for it and figure out when it’s coming, and you can…well, you can be there and tell me how awesome I am when I take care of it. Do you, uh, have a specialty, yet? I heard you’re not doing very good in the Academy, your grades are pretty bad.”

 

Izumi smiles, and reaches for his sword. “Yeah. I dropped out. My specialty’s cutting heads off.”

 

Tori grimaces. “Ooh. Is it worth what it’s doing to your magic? I wouldn’t risk it, with mine.”

 

“Quick question, are all wizards kind of touched in the head?”

 

“You’re so mean!” Tori folds his arms, and kicks at Izumi’s thigh. “Dunno why you’d want to die just so you can cut off heads, is all.”

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Izumi exasperatedly says, grabbing Tori’s foot and holding it. “Kick me again, and I’ll toss you. Explain to me why killing people and fighting with a sword is fucking up my magic. I’m not using magic while I’m doing it, you know.”

 

Tori groans, then flops down on the ground, grabbing a fur from the bed and wrapping it around himself, yanking his foot out of Izumi’s grip. “I heard you were bad at school, but this is _dumb_ , that’s first-year stuff. Magic is a force that wells up in you and allows you to control the energies of the world, right?”

 

“Who the hell is telling you I’m bad at school? Because fuck them,” Izumi mutters, dropping back down into his chair and resting his chin one hand. “Yeah, yeah, I know that.”

 

“Right. Of course. Because it’s obvious.” Tori stares up at Izumi, as if he’s an especially dull child. “So what do you think happens to it if you don’t use it, and it’s constantly welling up inside you? That’s what happens when you bloom. Everyone’s born with, like, a cap on it, inside, and blooming blows that cap off. You can’t ever put it back on. So if you don’t use your magic, it…it gets all twisted in you, and eventually burns away your spirit. First your magic starts to warp, and undoes whatever you try to do. Then you die. I think. My teacher said there was another stage, but it was really sciencey. Boring.”

 

“I _use_ my magic,” Izumi irritably says. “I’ve been using it since I got here. I’ve used magic since I was a child. I guess it’s the innate stuff from being a half-blood, but that should count, because it’s all mixed together now.”

 

Tori shrugs. “I dunno. I dunno any half-bloods that talk about that kind of thing. Like I said, I just wouldn’t chance it. Plus, it’s illegal to do intentional magic without a graduation certificate.” He smirks. “I guess it helps to be fucking the king.”

 

“ _He_ doesn’t know I’ve fucked off,” Izumi irritably says. “I’m not going back, though, and I’ve been doing intentional magic and not getting tracked down yet, so it _must_ be fine. I didn’t _want_ to be a wizard, you know. I was fine just…being a half-blood that could heal a few people.”

 

“You’re really stupid,” Tori says flatly, “if you think that the benefits of fucking the king end with asking the king to do stuff directly. That’s the point of clout and _influence_ , moron. So people know you _could_ do something, you don’t actually have to do it. You really think people don’t give you preferential treatment because they know you could go running to him?” He tosses his hair behind his shoulders. “I should know. I’ve been using mine all my life.”

 

“ _You’re_ fucking stupid. I’ve used that preferential treatment all my life, too, but there’s a limit when the whole world _knows_ you’re fucking the king, _and_ they resent you. There’s a difference between fucking the king and the king regent; no one wants to piss you off, if it’s the latter, but no one really gives a shit, either.”

 

Tori glares so hard that his more devoted servants would probably burst into tears. “You think that’s what I’m talking about? You idiot! I’m talking about how no one wants to make my _father_ mad, because he’s the richest man in the kingdom!”

 

“And now you’re a wizard, and you can’t make babies, so no one really cares,” Izumi wearily points out. “They tried to marry your sister to me at one point. I know your family.”

 

“I’m glad it didn’t work,” Tori huffs, “because you’re really mean to me. I’m helping you so much, because you don’t know _anything_ , and you’re really ungrateful about it! I just rode for _weeks_ to help you, to this frozen fucking wasteland, and you let your men insult me, didn’t feed me, and kicked out my servant!”

 

“Insult you? They told you were as pretty as a girl.”

 

“They were…commenting! On my appearance! No one is allowed to do that, that’s assault to someone as high-ranking as me!”

 

Izumi rolls his eyes. “Sure. As far as your servant goes, you can’t have him in here. All those men out there—that’s what’s left of the North. Some prissy, Capital-born wizard showing up with a _servant_ isn’t going to sit well with them. Send him away, or make do with him staying in the Academy outpost, you’ll be fine without him.”

 

Tori stares at him as if he’s gone insane. “Um…no? I refuse. You don’t have any power over me, or him.”

 

“Then you can go and stay in the outpost instead of the keep. Besides, you’re technically on loan to me, so yes, I _do_ have power over you.”

 

“But you’re not the Lord here,” Tori protests. “You’re not even a citizen, you’re an apprentice wizard.”

 

“I _am_ Lord here, this is _my_ country, and I don’t know how many other ways to tell you that I’ve left the Academy—and for good, at this point,” Izumi flatly says. “Disagree all you want, consider this a wartime exception if you want, I don’t care. If you don’t like it, turn around and go back to the Capital and—and I’ll deal with it some other way. You can explain to Tsukasa why you aren’t helping two men that he has a blood pact with.”

 

Tori’s face crumples. “Why are you being so _mean_?” he demands. “I’m here to help! I could be at home in the Capitol, but I’m here to risk my life to help you! Why won’t you let my friend make me tea?”

 

“Because you can’t show up and act like a spoiled, rich brat and expect me to put up with it when what’s left of my country is stuffed into one building. You keep calling me stupid, but _you_ know about as much about what’s killing us as I do.” Izumi climbs to his feet, frustrated as he grabs up his cloak. “To hell with it. Call your servant. Kitchen’s tucked into the back of the Keep, I’m sure he can find it. I’m going to bother Isara, at least he usually _knows_ something.”

 

Tori marches triumphantly to the door, grabs the handle, and spectacularly fails to open it. Dismayed, he tries again, bracing both feet against the door, straining hard, then gives up, scowling. “You locked the door. Asshole.”

 

Izumi, expression completely impassive, grabs the door, and yanks it open with a swift pull. “It’s heavy. I’ll give you that much.”

 

“You—you definitely unlocked it before you did that,” Tori insists, forcing his way outside. “Yuzuru! Yuzuru, come here!”

 

Izumi bites down on a sigh, trying not to sound or look too outwardly frustrated as he pushes past Yuzuru on his way out, and past the men that want a better look at the new arrivals—specifically, at Tori. The bitter cold that hits his face when he leaves the Keep properly is something of a relief, and following tiny snog footprints behind Arashi’s familiar booted ones is less helpful in taking him to who he wants than the _scent_ that he catches hold of. _That’s new, whatever it is._

 

Mao, the Academy’s highest-ranked Enhanced since that stuck-up, neurotic Keito’s retirement, smells…odd. Different than most humans, for sure. Izumi can’t decide if it’s off-putting, appealing, or annoying. Either way, it makes him nervous. He can smell it through the layers of furs that Mao wears, whatever it is, and Izumi nearly pricks his tongue on his fangs before he realizes they’re out. _Gross._ “Don’t have meetings without me,” he complains, trudging up through the snow. Cupcake’s tail starts to wag. “I hate wizards.”

 

“His Excellency Tori is troublesome,” Mao says apologetically, nose red in the cold. “I had no idea he was being sent here.”

 

“That’s new, considering you usually know everything.”

 

“I know a few things. Rei sent me, to check on you.”

 

“Not to bring me home.”

 

“Somehow, no.” Mao glances between Izumi and Arashi, then down at the snog. “Is that thing _really_ tame?”

 

“He…loves me,” Arashi allows, stroking Cupcake’s head before straightening up, bowing as if to a superior officer, despite the fact that he’s had no superior officer besides the king for a decade or more. His back is still military-straight, shoulders back, though he does quirk his mouth a bit when he straightens up. “So, you’re here to check us out? Check away, there are two hundred men living left in this entire province. Please thank him for the wizard, assure him that I know just how to make use of someone like that.”

 

Cupcake’s tail swishes a few times before scooping up snow in the process, and flinging it directly into Mao.

 

“He’s…delightful,” Mao dryly settles upon, brushing off the mess of snow from his chest. “I’m here to check on you, not check you out, though I suppose that’s semantics at this point. The Demon King decided you need to be better informed in order to handle an enemy like this. He didn’t authorize His Excellency Tori’s sending, but obviously he has no complaints, or he would have stopped it.”

 

“So you _aren’t_ here to take me back home,” Izumi says, decidedly skeptical. “Somehow I doubt this, but all right. I like knowing things.”

 

“Into the Outpost, then—because it’s too cold for me, I don’t know how anyone survives up here,” Mao says, trying to keep his teeth from chattering as he turns away.

 

The Outpost is mostly an abandoned tower, built high out of stone, a spiral staircase made of individual slats of metal and wood rickety around the side, leading up as far as Arashi can see. The steps creak horribly as he stands on them, and he grimaces, quickening his steps. “This is really awful,” he calls down, not stopping, mostly for fear that whatever step he stops on will crumble into dust. Finally, he reaches a big wooden platform, and the world stops spinning.

 

“You’ve all let it go to hell,” Mao lightly scolds, striding up the steps as if he’s walking on something far sturdier—at least, to his eye. “I spent a few years here as a child; it wasn’t anything like this.”

 

“Forgive me, but we’ve had more pressing issues,” Izumi dryly says, watching with held breath as Mao dares to step around Arashi on the narrow staircase, and heads up to the sealed doorway at the top. Beneath his touch—and only his touch, Izumi guesses, judging by how many times he’s watched even Nightcloaks wait around for Mao to open doors—the physical, metal spiral on the door creaks, turns, and cracks open, leaving one of the doors to limply swing on its hinges.

 

Inside, it’s not much better than outside, save for providing a buffer to the wind. Mao shivers from head to toe, shaking off the snow before striding over to the long-abandoned fireplace. “Take a seat, both of you, I’ll get this started, and—um, would you…ask your snog to stop following me, I find it very…distracting…”

 

“You’ve been dumped, Arashi,” Izumi wryly says, watching the way Cupcake tries to nip at Mao’s heels. “He’s got a new boyfriend.”

 

“What the hell,” Arashi deadpans, staring at Cupcake. “I feel weirdly betrayed? Enjoy him, Mao. He only eats carrion. Ugh, at least there’s no wind up here, the wind is the _worst_. One winter up here and I’d be happy to live anywhere else. Well, maybe not the Sandlands. Did you know, in the West, when it snows, we get excited? Like, it’s a _fun_ thing. We go sledding.”

 

“We go sledding up here,” Izumi defensively says, throwing himself down onto a ratty old sofa. “And skating, because the lakes have ice on it over two feet thick. You’re right, though—the Sandlands are the absolute worst.”

 

“I don’t think he wants to be my boyfriend, I think he wants to eat me,” Mao wearily says, trying to _gently_ shoo the creature away as he throws a strangely intact and not rotted log into the fireplace, and then yelps when it bites into his arm—or at least, tries to, through the layers of furs. “Is this thing still venomous?”

 

“Probably. Arashi, don’t let him eat the spy.”

 

“Cupcake! Cupcake, down! Get over here, you asshole, leave him alone, we might need him or something,” Arashi says wearily, patting the floor near him as he sits, his back against the couch Izumi sits on. “Gods, Izumi, do you just hate your wizards? The Outpost in the West is kept up much better than this.”

 

“I haven’t been here in years!” Izumi exasperatedly points out. “And there hasn’t been a wizard stationed in the North since—well, it was before I was born!”

 

Cupcake growls, low and moody, before releasing Mao’s arm with a hiss, and waddles his way back over to Arashi, pawing at his legs in an attempt to be picked up.

 

“He’s not wrong; it’s usually just Enhanced,” Mao says, gingerly poking at his arm to make sure the snog hadn’t bitten through fur to actually pierce skin. “No one wants the North. The last Enhanced even stationed up here…well, that was Keito, before I had even started training.”

 

“In case we were all wondering if you had a thing for old men,” Izumi says underneath his breath.

 

Mao shoots him a flat, irritated look before a tiny spark of magic lights the fire, leaving it almost immediately at a dull, crackling roar. “There’s a reason wizards aren’t usually kept up here,” he says as he straightens, standing near the fire to warm his hands. “They attract things.”

 

“Thanks, that’s incredibly fucking ominous,” Arashi says flatly, scooping Cupcake up and opening his cloak, just in case the creature wants to curl up against his chest. “What kinds of things does it attract? Do we know what a Drude even looks like? Is…is Izumi attracting things right now?” Inconspicuously, he shuffles to the side, slightly away from Izumi.

 

“It came before I even got here, you ass!” Izumi protests, deliberately scooting closer to Arashi just to fuck with him.

 

“Obviously, he had no part in attracting it in the first place, but…well, open, unrestrained magic attracts all sorts of things.” Mao looks him over from head to toe, frowning. “Or I would say, but your magic is surprisingly collected at the moment. At any rate, wizards have always attracted things throughout history. Demons of all kinds, the fae, the kinds of things that do _not_ need to leave the depths of the Shadowlands…”

 

He turns around, letting his back warm against the fire now. “Drude are just another kind of archdemon class. When I say ‘just another kind’, that isn’t for you to take lightly. There are several of them here. Imagine…several, of the previous Emperor. But less adept with diplomacy. And meaner.”

 

Arashi shivers, then shakes his head. “Even with the new recruit, there’s no way we can handle several things on that level. Hell, I doubt we could _ever_ have killed the previous Emperor, without the king’s sacrifice and the new Emperor’s assistance. There’s no way we can kill several. Why send anyone? Why not just evacuate the North completely, if they’re that strong?”

 

“Because…” Mao exhales, his breath escaping white and foggy. “Because there’s a good chance that while they _are_ just here to eat everything and destroy everything, there’s also a chance that they _want_ something, and that’s just a means to the end. As far as we can tell, they’re trying to move towards the Capital. They’ve been doing that for some time—they even went as far as to send one of their own ahead of time, to test the waters, so to speak.”

 

Izumi goes still at that. “There’s one of these things,” he slowly echoes, “in the _Capital._ Since when?”

 

“Since before you came here.”

 

Arashi lets out a groan, then buries his head in his hands, sinking into a puddle. “I hate this. I hate this so, so much. We can’t fight those things! Ugh, we have to get the king away from the other one, he’s so vulnerable to them, you know?”

 

“The one in the Capital seems to have a desire to remain close to him,” Mao quietly confirms. “Because of the previous Emperor. There aren’t many archdemons in existence; it’s no surprise that they’d come…looking for him.”

 

“Rei said he shrouded that bond,” Izumi interrupts, trying to keep his growing stress from his face and failing. “There’s no way they should’ve found him.”

 

“There’s no way to truly hide a bond, even a broken one, unless it ceases to exist entirely,” Mao says with a shake of his head. “Even if the Demon King did such a thing, it’s possible the archdemon could still…sniff it out, more or less. We believe the archdemon in the Capital is sitting on his council right now.”

 

Izumi sucks in a sharp breath, and climbs to his feet, unable to remain seated when he’s this anxious.

 

“Then why are we even up here?” Arashi demands, nervously petting Cupcake, itching for something to _do_ , something to fight, something physical to oppose instead of this nameless dread. “Waiting to be attacked by something we can’t possibly fight? That sounds really fucking stupid! Wouldn’t we be more help down in the Capitol, with the king, if we can’t fight the Drude? Or is there a plan?”

 

“If you leave the North now, it will almost certainly be overrun by the Drude’s armies of Inglings.” Mao reaches into the layers of his cloak, pulling free a crumpled, rolled scroll that he spreads out over a low table. “So going to the Capital is out of the question, especially when there isn’t direct access for the Inglings to emerge there, like there is here.”

 

“Direct access?” Izumi presses, striding closer. “What kind of direct access—“

 

“Sorrow’s Gates.” Mao glances up, waving both of them over as the empty scroll slowly fills with their world’s map, along with a great deal of additional cartography that extends the Shadowlands to fill most of the scroll. “I doubt either of you have heard of such things, so let me explain. In the West,” he says, pulling a pin out to stab directly through the map into the Sharps. “Where the main force of Inglings come from. There’s a gate to the Shadowlands that Inglings come from.”

 

“Motherfucker,” Arashi curses, staring down at the map. “This map sucks, the West is way bigger than it looks. There’s a _gate?_ Why didn’t I know that, I’d have sent a force to shut it down years ago. I mean…assuming you can. How do you kill the gates? How do you _know_ this?”

 

“Is the Shadowlands seriously supposed to be that big?” Izumi demands, planting his hands onto the table to peer down at it. “Are those city names? The Shadowlands has _cities?_ ”

 

“That’s racist,” Mao mildly says, pointedly ignoring most of their questions. “The gates have been closed before. There’s another, here—“ He sticks a pin down directly into the Northern mountains. “And perhaps most troubling, here.”

 

The last pin lands directly off the shores of High Harbor.

 

Arashi lets out a low whistle, reaching up to nervously tie his hair back, fingercombing it into place. “They couldn’t circle us much worse if they used strategy,” he observes, staring down at the map, touching each of the gates in turn. “From the North, the West, and the East. If they close in, they meet at the Capitol. If we run, the only place we have to go is the Shadowlands…and after what happened half a decade ago, I’ll be surprised if many people have a warm welcome there.”

 

“Considering they’re _from_ the Shadowlands, my guess is it isn’t feasible to go there for safety,” Izumi quietly says. “Correct?”

 

“Correct. The Demon Prince has been dealing with the repercussions of this in the Shadowlands for awhile, until the exact cause was determined.”

 

“So—how do we close the gates? That’s obviously what we need to do.”

 

“Easier said than done.” Mao taps the pin in the Sharps again. “Decades ago, this gate fully opened. It’s the smallest of all the gates, and it still took the previous Emperor and the Demon King’s combined powers to shut it, with a great deal of backlash into the Shadowlands following it. The gate within High Harbor was temporarily sealed as well, as it never fully opened, and the one in the North…well. This is the first time it’s opened, since some millennia ago. There’s one way to shut them—which _has_ proven concrete, but also requires a loss of life. Paladin life, specifically.”

 

Arashi nods slowly, fingers taping against the map, and turns to Mao. “You have any more pins? Different colors, perhaps? I have quite a lot of troops in the West—they’re not technically under my command right now, but they’ll follow any orders I give, and so will their commander. What is the gate, exactly? Is it something physical, or more like a hole in the ground?”

 

“I don’t know, exactly,” Mao admits, pulling out a little case of pins and nudging them over. “The Demon King has tried to explain it to me before, but…as a human _and_ a non-wizard, it doesn’t make much sense. From what I can gather, however, it’s more like…a pit of energy? Not even a physical pit, but like a gaping mess of power in one place, and that’s what the Inglings are attracted to, and how they can find it from the Shadowlands and come through.”

 

“Is it possible for wizards, wizards that…listen, I don’t know shit about magic,” Arashi says bluntly. “Consider me a child, for all that I’ve been bedding them for a decade, when it comes to wizards and magic. And Izumi’ll tell you, I’m not smart when it comes to this kind of stuff. But I know my men, and I know what they can do. So, some questions. One, are creatures going to come through faster than my men are used to?” He sticks a couple of green pins in the map, nodding. “Each pin is a regiment, two hundred men. Are they going to help whoever’s going to deal with this? Or are they in harm’s way?”

 

“Right now, Wataru and Natsume are in the West—their efforts have kept most of any increase at bay, so your men won’t notice a difference in the numbers. They’re still helpful where they are…unless,” Mao carefully adds, “the gate somehow gets away from the two of them. It’s unlikely, but—if it does, they’re all dead. All of your men.”

 

“Oh. Is that all.” Arashi’s voice is faint, as is his smile. “If the gate…gets away from them. Fine, fine, death is coming for all of us, all of my people are in harm’s way, all my friends are about to die, what can we do about it?”

 

“For now, exactly what we’ve been doing. You have reinforcements here, at least—Tori is…delicate, but he’s still undeniably powerful,” Mao admits, leaning back away from the table. “The reason I’ve been instructed to tell you about all of this is because in High Harbor, the gate unexpectedly cracked and opened further. The result was the Nightcloak Kanata’s near death. Because of that, I know that the Demon King—“

 

“Doing exactly what we’ve been doing isn’t going to cut it when both of our dominances are about to be obliterated, by the sound of it,” Izumi cuts him off. “I can’t hold a gate with one Nooncloak if _Nightcloaks_ are being taken down. Send me Shu. Send me… _anyone_ else.”

 

“The North has the largest gate of them all. Sending Shu won’t change the situation.”

 

“I hate this kid,” Izumi flatly says, his hands trembling where they curl against the table. “I’ll ask you again—what _will?_ Don’t repeat to me what Rei wants me to hear.”

 

Mao hesitates visibly. “…the Demon King has his own solutions pending,” he says, holding up his hands when Izumi looks ready to launch himself across the table. “But the Demon _Prince_ has suggestions of his own! Don’t kill me, I swear to the gods, I don’t like this, either! Killing archdemons is virtually impossible, so negotiations need to happen instead! In the North, especially—you’re a Prince in your own right, it’s important for you not to even think of attacking them if you’re going to negotiate in the future!”

 

“Bullshit,” Arashi says flatly. “Live in peace with archdemons? Sounds like we need to find some paladins instead. I heard lots of stories about them when I was a kid—isn’t it their job to die for the common good, if they have to? Don’t look at me like that,” he snaps at Mao’s expression. “I’m a soldier, it’s _my_ job to die for the common good, why should they be any different?”

 

Mao chews on his lower lip slowly, saying nothing, and Izumi casually reaches for his sword. “You know something,” he simply says. “About why asking paladins to jump on these gates isn’t going to work.”

 

“It’s not exactly…being considered at this time.”

 

“New plan, then.” Izumi glances over to Arashi. “I’m not waiting around to _talk_ to archdemons. Tell Ritsu I’m sorry, but it’s just not going to happen, not after dealing with the last one. I vote we go hunt down some fucking paladins, and toss them onto their funeral pyres.”

 

“Are you sure we don’t have a resonant bond? Because darling, you are reading my mind.” Arashi stands, and jerks his head at the snog. “C’mon, Cupcake. You get to see the Hinterlands, doesn’t that sound like fun? Gods, I bet on those awful horses we’ll be there in less than a week, even in this snow.”

 

Izumi nods, turning after him. “I’ve made the trip a few times. It’s definitely less than a week.”

 

“You’re wasting your time,” Mao finally says, dropping back down into a chair. “If you’d stop for a moment, let me seal this place down, and properly explain it—“

 

Cupcake hisses, tail lashing, and Mao sighs, holding up his hands. “Or don’t, I don’t want to get eaten by that thing, but _honestly…_ ”

 

“Any reason it’s not being considered?” Arashi asks lightly. “Like, something _not_ to do with the fact that the Emperor is blowing one of them every night?”

 

“That doesn’t help,” Mao hedges. “Though I don’t think it’s about that, _explicitly…_ it’s more about the Emperor’s alliance with the current King.”

 

“…which is necessary because of the way the realm works?” Izumi dryly points out. “I don’t like it very much either. They can get over it.”

 

“Paladins have been known to…turn away from the crown for less,” Mao says. “I can’t say anything more unless you two sit and let me seal this place. Otherwise, I’m a dead man, and I’ll be blamed for the rumors floating around in the first place.”

 

“You, seal?” Arashi demands. “I thought it took the last Emperor and the current one to seal it last time, you’re saying that one little Enhanced can do it by himself? Sounds like a fucking lie, I’m going to go get a paladin and feed the hole in the West to save my men.”

 

“I’m talking about sealing this grungy excuse of an outpost so we can talk privately,” Mao wearily says. “But I suppose I can throw myself onto the Sorrow’s Gate afterwards, if that would please you, Milord.”

 

“It would please me,” Izumi darkly mutters.

 

“Why,” Arashi says, through gritted teeth as his head starts to hurt, “don’t you just _do that_ , and tell us something to keep me from having to ride for a fucking week in this awful snow? Why does _every_ goddamn magic user have to dance around a topic before saying what’s fucking going on? Dammit, I’m a simple man, I only have two ways to solve problems, by throwing money at them or by hitting them with a sword, give me a gods-damned enemy I can solve one of those ways!”

 

“Calm down,” Izumi quietly says, reaching to grab Arashi’s shoulders and squeeze. His own heart thuds in his throat as Mao silently climbs to his feet, and goes about to place the wards in question. “I’m pissed, too, but—not for nothing, as much as I _hate_ Isara, if he’s about to tell us something that he’s warding like this, and it involves Leo, I need him to actually talk. He usually doesn’t, not even to Ritsu.”

 

Arashi seethes, hands clenched tight into fists, and he tries as hard as he can not to slam one of them into a stone wall. He inhales deeply, then exhales, nodding. “Sorry. Losing my temper. I hate this, I _hate_ this, knowing all of my people are in danger and there’s nothing I can do—that’s hell, isn’t it?”

 

“Yeah. And I’m in the same boat.” Izumi’s mouth twists, and his grip slides down to grab at Arashi’s hands. “So tell me I’m not being selfish for not wanting to sit and talk to a bunch of creatures that probably want to eat everyone I know and love.”

 

“I won’t.” Arashi slowly sits back down on the couch, face dark. “It’s not selfish to want something good, and it’s not selfish to not want to die. I mean…you know. To have your loved ones die. Or I guess it is selfish, but…” He shrugs, frustrated. “Promise me I get to go kill something after this.”

 

“Want to go hunting?” Izumi’s expression is wry. “If we brought back fresh elk, I think my men would kiss us.”

 

Sudden, deafening silence falls over the outpost, and Izumi shivers, glancing up to the sight of runes posted at every single window and door—unseen to Arashi, undoubtedly, but still glowing stark red to his eyes. “My apologies, but—it’s necessary when one wants to talk shit about their Master’s doings,” Mao says, brushing off his hands and pulling up a chair. “I _will_ ask that you sit on this information. I won’t make you be magically bound to it, but swear on something you give a shit about, at least.”

 

Arashi makes a face at the weird, flat quality of the air, but says nothing. He hasn’t been around this much magic for this long without understanding what it means. “The only person I would break a vow to tell is in this room,” he says truthfully. “I swear on my little washerwoman mother’s life, I won’t speak of what you say until you break the runes.”

 

Izumi inclines his head. “Likewise—there’s no one else I’d break a vow on, not even the king. I swear on my blade that I won’t speak on it.”

 

Mao plucks up the pins from the map, returning them to their case. “Thank you. I’ll try to make this as…well, concise as I can, for non-magic users,” he says, glancing up to Arashi. “Have you ever _heard_ of thralls?”

 

“Nope,” Arashi says cheerfully. “Unless we’re talking about the kind in the nursery rhymes my big sister used to tell.”

 

“If they’re the ones about monsters and the like, probably,” Mao says with a nod. “But that’s a simplified way of looking at it.”

 

“I feel like Ritsu mentioned some things about this at one point, but I feel like every time I’m with him, I get a new history lesson,” Izumi groans, raking a hand back through his bangs. “So just—explain it from the start.”

 

“Mm—well, in short, it’s one of the few outlawed kinds of magic. Specifically, it’s been outlawed by the Academy because it can be so noxious and dangerous. A thrall can have many uses, but its primary design is to take another person under one’s magical influence. With a weak thrall, that can mean something like…I don’t know, giving a person a mild little headache whenever you’re annoyed. With a powerful one, one that completely shrouds another person in the caster’s magic, you can influence their day to day life—their emotions, their decisions, when they’re hungry. They might be sad when you’re sad, or feel a state of unease when you’re upset about something, even if they don’t know why…

 

“Essentially—it’s _the_ way to make someone your puppet, if you’re crafty enough about it.” Mao rolls up the map, exhaling a short breath. “But it can be used as protection as well. It blocks out pretty much any other magic attempting to influence a person, if it’s strong enough. Most magic users can’t even create a weak thrall, let alone one _that_ strong, and even then, only certain creatures can maintain it for extended periods. Thralls are rarely permanent. Shadowbred, Bloodbred, Greenbred… _some_ Airbred, if they’re particularly powerful…they can all do at least _something_ like that. A good example, because I think we’ve all experienced it, is when a Bloodbred feeds,” Mao wryly says. “They bite, and that state of euphoria that happens afterwards—that’s a thrall, albeit a very weak one. The influence there is to make us stay interested in sex with them, obviously, and then it goes away when you’re done. Imagine that…all the time. You’d be a slave, so you can see why it’s highly illegal.”

 

“So, uh…” Arashi blinks slowly, trying to take all of this in, feeling as if he should be taking notes, “a thrall makes someone else your toy. And anyone with magic can do that, and it means…it means a person is never really themselves, whether they know it or not, right? And it’s illegal, and Ritsu has been doing this to all of us for years? Is he in trouble?”

 

“Bloodbred skate by on a technicality—their feeding is illegal in and of itself, but with a _willing_ participant, and an extremely temporary thrall, it’s often difficult to prove that it was a real thrall, or that they even actually fed…” Mao flutters a hand. “So everyone turns a blind eye to that. The real issue is thralls induced by other means.”

 

“I’m about to hate this, aren’t I,” Izumi quietly says, sitting back in his chair.

 

Mao folds his hands into his lap. “There’s no _good_ way to explain this, so I’ll just say it. My Master thralled the King, five years ago. That thrall has been in place since then, and…regularly maintained.”

 

Arashi leaps to his feet, startled into horror, face ashen. “No! He—he can’t have, that’s—that’s _treason_ , isn’t it? Or worse? You said it’s illegal, what’s the punishment for that kind of…?”

 

“Considering the Emperor is usually the person that hands down that sort of punishment…” Mao spreads his hands. “Nothing, in this case.”

 

“What’s his reasoning behind it?” Izumi’s voice is still calm, strangely so. “He’s always got a reason.”

 

“Protection. I…understand it, more or less,” Mao admits, glancing down. “This thrall—it’s a full shroud about His Majesty. It blocks out the broken ends of his bond, which otherwise, the previous Emperor could use to claw his way back into this world.”

 

“If the king misbehaves,” Arashi says slowly, “he has a council of ministers that can agree to remove him from power, same with the courts. Are you telling me there’s absolutely nothing to stop the Emperor from doing anything, breaking any law? I mean, I get it, obviously no one wants the Emperor to return, but…”

 

“Other Nightcloaks typically work to monitor the Emperor’s actions. But—in this case,” Mao says with a grimace, “the Demon King is good enough to hide it from…well, everyone. Even if they knew…Shu would undoubtedly agree with his choice, considering who the thrall is keeping at bay. Natsume also hates the previous Emperor so much that he wouldn’t question it, and Kanata follows the Demon King’s orders without question. Wataru… _might_ do something about it, if he cared. But he doesn’t. And not for nothing, he’s never…used the thrall for anything other than protection.”

 

“As far as you know,” Izumi softly says.

 

“Yes. As far as I know. But when it comes to my Master, I know quite a bit.”

 

Mao leans back, heaving a sigh. “Aside from fellow wizards, there’s a check in place for _demons_. Paladins. Which brings me to the original point of this conversation, more or less.”

 

Arashi holds up a hand. “But you said,” he points out, “that the person who has the thrall, the one who, who casts the spell, right? You said they can influence the, the other person, unconsciously, right? So that means that if Rei wants something, consciously or unconsciously, then the king is more likely to agree with it, right? Or am I getting that mixed up?”

 

“No—no, you’re correct. I can’t say for certain that such a thing hasn’t happened,” Mao admits. “But I _do_ think…as flawed as this concept is, and as dangerous a spell this is to work on someone, it was done with good intentions. I don’t _think_ my Master has done anything to influence the King beyond, perhaps, keeping more of those weird dog figurines around in the palace.”

 

“It’s difficult for me to take your word on that, you realize,” Izumi says, glancing down to his own hands in his lap. “When everything that you’re describing seems to apply to you as well.”

 

Mao pauses, lips parted, before he shrugs, leaning forward to rest his hands on his knees. “You’re right,” he simply says. “Since the day he pulled me from the streets. So you’re right, I’m going to be naturally inclined to make his excuses, as much as he’s naturally inclined to lie through his teeth.”

 

“Great,” Arashi says hollowly. “So we have a thralled king, and a thralled Enhanced explaining it all to us. How do we know Rei didn’t send you to tell us—never mind, if I start thinking like that, I’m never going to figure this out. You said you had a point?”

 

“Yes—the point is that some of this information has made its way out of the Sandlands, to the rumor mills further North, in the Hinterlands. Some paladins think that the Emperor…who they greatly dislike…controls the King…so getting their support is…” Mao winces. “Unlikely. My spies have reported how they’ve already started building their own safehouses. If we want paladins to help us, it’s likely they’ll want the Emperor gone.”

 

Arashi swears, a blistering curse that sounds more at home in the mouth of a carpenter’s son than that of a great lord. “Well. That complicates things, huh? But—but that doesn’t make sense, aren’t the paladins supposed to be apolitical? Aren’t they supposed to serve the people, not the wizards? Ugh, secret alliances, I hate not knowing about things, I’ve been away from my counselors for too fucking long. Whatever, I bet me and Izumi could still hunt a couple of them down and chuck ‘em into the gates.”

 

“My Master is _married_ to the most powerful and well-known paladin house’s most talented heir—admittedly, a disowned one, but _still_ ,” Mao wearily says. “And _he_ knows about the king’s thrall when he’s supposed to do something about it. His family will want my Master dead for that nonsense _alone_ , let alone the mess with the king directly. But—sure, you can still throw paladins at gates? I guess? They just have to be willing, or it won’t work.”

 

“I think,” Izumi slowly says, “that I’ve learned enough about Rei today.”

 

“Likewise,” Arashi says wearily, rubbing at his temples. “Izumi…it’s your home. You probably understood all of this better than I do, you know how dumb I am. Whatever you want to do, I’m with you.”

 

“Does Ritsu know?” Izumi abruptly asks, glancing up to catch Mao’s gaze. “About you?”

 

“No. But it wouldn’t change anything,” Mao says with a shrug, climbing to his feet. “You can’t thrall someone into loving someone, if that’s what you’re concerned about. It would be quite odd, anyway, considering the circumstances. Anyway,” he briskly continues, watching one of the runes on a window flicker. “I’ve told you what you need to know. You can do what you will with that information, and hopefully tread more carefully because of it. No one else knows, except the names I’ve mentioned. So…please. Let’s keep it that way.”

 

Izumi nods, silent for a moment longer before heaving a breath and forcing himself up onto his feet. “I still want to kill something.”

 

“Me as well,” Arashi agrees. “Mao, friend…what would the Academy have us do? Me with my sword, Tori with his magic, Izumi with his…what would you have us do?”

 

“I believe the Emperor is looking for a way to more…discretely close these gates. At least, in a patchwork fashion,” Mao says, stepping back over to the fire to warm his hands again. “I think that actually also involves throwing paladins onto it, but the ones he doesn’t like. At any rate, until then, you should focus on preserving life. That’s why Tori was sent to you, I imagine; a buffer, against whatever comes out of that gate. If you can, move your men South and away from it. Also, I _know_ you hate the idea, but if those archdemons come out of the hole, you might be able to strike a—“

 

“I’m not talking about this anymore. Arashi, please.”

 

“Yep,” Arashi says, and stands again, making certain his sword is properly buckled. He takes Izumi’s hand, then drops it again, mouth twisting. “Can we walk through that seal? Best not go down those awful stairs two at a time. Cupcake, ready to go?”

 

“Oh—go on ahead through it, it’ll pop as soon as you pass through,” Mao says with a wave of one hand, watching Cupcake bounce off of the couch and waddle after Arashi in short order. “It won’t hurt you. Izumi—when you have a moment, at _least_ talk to Ritsu?”

 

“Maybe,” Izumi mutters, grabbing for Arashi’s hand again. “Thanks for coming up this way.”

 

He shoves open the door, and the wind from outside immediately blindsides him, leaving him to reflexively flinch back. “What if I jumped off the edge, right now,” he gloomily says. “I mean, I’d hit snow, and I wouldn’t die, but _what if._ ”

 

“I wouldn’t even stop you right now,” Arashi says wearily, wrapping an arm around Izumi’s waist from behind. “This is the actual worst. Remember when I was in the ocean, and I had my guts ripped out, and half of my face was gone? That was better than this.”

 

“Was it?” Izumi says with a laugh, sagging back into Arashi’s chest. “That scared me half to death, too. Gods, sorry, I know it’s so fucking cold. We can walk.”

 

His lower lip trembles until he bites it, and he forces himself to pull away and start down the stairs.

 

“I hate every fucking part of this,” Arashi says, and is surprised to hear his own voice shaking, more furious than he’d expected, as he starts down the stairs. “They have no fucking right to dump this on either of us, or to expect us to do their dirty work. They give us no real options and still expect us to follow their instructions? Like good little soldiers? Hold it yourself, but don’t do anything? All your men are going to be killed, your Emperor is doing things no creature should, but hold the line against creatures that can crush you with a thought? _Fuck_ this, I’m glad you quit the Academy, it turns people to _shit_.”

 

“It’s not the Academy,” Izumi quietly says, taking his time going down the stairs when somehow, they’ve become slicker and icier since their time inside. “Not entirely, anyway. It’s…being certain things. Certain creatures. It’s a miracle I’m not a rapist, apparently.”

 

Arashi slips, windmills wildly for a moment, then catches his footing, panting hard, eyes wide as he stares down at the long climb to the bottom. “What happened to the stairs? _Gods_ , free me from this country already! I want to go _home_ , I want to kiss my _amaka_ , I want to sleep in a soft bed and breathe where the air doesn’t hurt my face, I’m going to fucking fall!”

 

“You don’t _have_ to stay, you know,” Izumi wearily says, turning around and offering Arashi his hand. “I know it fucking sucks. Why do you think I went to the Capital? C’mon, one step at a time.”

 

Cupcake hops ahead of them, shoving his nose into the snow and ice as if attempting to shove it out of the way on the stairs. “That thing’s too smart,” Izumi says, shaking his head. “I mean, I’d rather it be possessed by Mika, but knowing our luck, it’s possessed by _Rei_ , and it’s going to kill us in our sleep.”

 

Arashi stops on the stairs, then sits down on one, bursting into tears. “Y-y-you had…to take away…my one comforting idea,” he sobs, overwhelmed and shaken, at the end of his rope.

 

“It was a joke!” Izumi protests, immediately whipping back around. “Arashi—c’mon, no, don’t cry, don’t cry,” he pleads, carefully crouching down, and nearly slipping down one of the stairs himself. “I’m just frustrated, that’s all. He’s totally Mika, there’s no way Rei’s this helpful, you know I’m right.”

 

Arashi sniffles, tears streaming down his face, red and painful in the cold, even without the wind. “I, I guess he’s p-probably busy, too,” he whimpers. “S-so he w-wouldn’t have time, r-right?”

 

“Sounds like he’s way too busy fucking with the things I love to worry about the things you love, yeah.” Izumi tries to force himself to crack a smile, and fails, miserably, as he draws in a shuddery breath. “Get up, stupid. You’re going to die in the cold, and I need you.”

 

“Why, I’m useless,” Arashi says, equally miserable as he climbs resentfully to his feet, stepping down the long steps again. “No good at magic, can’t fight this thing, can’t help in any other way. Just send me home, I’m no help.”

 

“I’m no good at magic, can’t fight this thing, and apparently I’m only good if I want to talk to it like…like I’m another creature, like I’m on its level of…of…” Izumi shakes his head, trembling as he hops down a couple of the stairs, uncaring when he slips. It’s a bit easier, with Cupcake clearing them off, or trying to. “I don’t _see_ myself as a drake. I never have. So suddenly, for _everyone_ to expect that I’m suppose to care about other things in the Shadowlands or relate to them or do _anything_ like drakes do makes me want to scream. Being a half-blood’s never done anything but fuck up my life.”

 

“It let you save my life a time or two,” Arashi says quietly, finding his footing no matter that he still skids down a couple of the last ones, hand braced on the wall for support. “But I hear you. Fuck that. Fuck your father, fuck anyone who tells you that you have to be what they want you to be, just because that’s how you were born. Tell me what you want to be, I’ll help, if I can.”

 

“Saving lives is the only _good_ thing about it,” Izumi mumbles, tipping forward into the snow as he slips and stumbles. He gives up for a moment, just sitting there, shivering, back against the wall. “You’ll laugh. Well, you probably won’t, but still.”

 

“Tell me.”

 

Arashi kneels down next to Izumi, uncaring of the snow, pressing a kiss to his shoulder through his clothes. “Tell me. I desperately want to hear about dreams again.”

 

“But it’s _really_ dumb.” Izumi turns, letting his head knock down against Arashi’s shoulder. “When I went to the Capital as a child, I wanted so _badly_ to be a knight. And I did that, and it was good, but…I didn’t expect I’d fall in love with the s-stupid prince, you know?” Izumi sniffles, lifting his head to wipe his nose. “So being a knight was…really.. _really_ secondary, and mostly just a way to stay with him, but even t-that doesn’t work anymore, and it feels like _everyone’s_ trying to take him away from me and nothing I do _changes_ that…so what’s the _point?_ ” He huffs, the sound wet and overstimulated and frustrated. “Why can’t I just be his s-stupid wife, huh? I’m pretty enough. I don’t _care_ if everyone hates me for it, I just _want_ it.”

 

Arashi’s arms tighten, and he tucks Izumi’s head under his chin, breathing deep, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “You deserve that,” he says, voice rough. “You do. And bullshit you don’t care if everyone hates you, there’s no fucking _reason_ they should hate you. Why can’t you be his wife, huh? Fuck laws, fuck traditions, you deserve to be happy _without_ everyone hating you! I don’t care if it’s realistic, I’ve wanted that for you since I’ve known you!”

 

Izumi sniffles again, which turns into a hiccup of a sob, and he throws himself directly into Arashi’s chest, clinging to his neck with all the force he can muster. “W-wanting that so badly fucks everything up, though,” he whispers. “It makes everyone in the Capital hate me, it makes my mother disappointed in me…and fuck, maybe I’m an arrogant son of a bitch, but n-no one else can run the North like I can and I know it! So I’m selfish, I get it, I w-want to be his wife and to have the North as my own and I want _you_ , but it doesn’t stop me from _wanting it_ , you know?” He laughs, the sound wet and unhinged. “And fuck, I don’t want to be a wizard, I hate it so much, but I want to be _good at it_ at the same time, so I can fix Mika for you. I tried, you know. I tried _so hard_ to be fucking good at this shit, but I’m awful at it and so I can’t even do that right.”

 

Arashi sits on the snow, feeling it seep into his clothes, the same way the cold feels like it’s seeping into his soul. “I’m the same,” he whispers back, hugging Izumi so tightly it hurts. “I’m worse than you, I’m sure of it. You were at least born to it, what business does someone like me have wanting to be Lord, _and_ Kingsguard, _and_ Captain of my own army, and—and more than anything, two lovers—and to have all of the good parts of those jobs, and none of the restrictions? You’re _not_ awful, you’re good at everything, I’m—fuck, I’m _so_ proud to know you!”

 

“…We could run away.” Izumi flops limply against Arashi’s chest. “We probably should. It might make us happy. Probably not, but I’m willing to try anything at this point.” His face twists as he struggles to keep back tears, and he stuffs it down into Arashi’s shoulder. “I hate…this. All of _this_. Being here, all this Academy b-bullshit, meeting all those drakes, my _father_. Fuck. My father…he said if I didn’t start tumbling girls again, I’d start f-forcing myself on them. Probably on…on whoever I saw first. I’d rather die. I’d rather fucking kill myself right now. On both counts. I can’t do it, I _can’t_.”

 

Arashi blinks, startled at the sudden vehemence. “What do you mean, you can’t?” he asks, a little confused. “I thought you swore off women because you didn’t want to bring more Elias and Kinsleys about, not because you didn’t like women.”

 

“I mean…I mean that’s _why_ I stopped, but…” Izumi draws back, lower lip trembling. “I’ve gotten desperate enough to try before,” he quietly admits. “But I’ll start kissing a woman and she’ll touch me and my mind just—starts going b-back to the shit that happened because I couldn’t keep it in my pants and it’s all I can think about. What if I bed the wrong woman? And that happens again? Don’t tell me it’s not logical, don’t tell me they’re all dead, I know that, that doesn’t stop it from _coming back_.”

 

“Have you considered—don’t be mad, hear me out,” Arashi says, holding up a hand to forestall any protests, “have you considered taking a woman as a mistress? An unmarried girl, or a widow, that doesn’t have a husband to come after you? And you could actually, like, be with the _same_ woman for a while? You’re a noble, you’re expected to have mistresses. Or at least, it’s hardly forbidden.”

 

“That’s not the problem,” Izumi mutters, scrubbing a hand across his burning eyes. “I mean—I guess that might help, over a long span of time or something, but the _problem_ is I start thinking about shit that I don’t want to think about during sex when I’m trying to fuck a girl, nothing I do stops that, and I get too freaked out to keep going and curl up in a useless, horny ball for hours while not wanting anyone to touch me but _needing_ someone to touch me. What woman’s going to want to put up with that? _You_ don’t want to put up with that,” he wearily says.

 

Arashi opens his mouth, then closes it again. “All right, I have no idea what to say to that,” he admits, then stands up, offering his hand. “I’m sick of not being able to do anything, though. Make me a deal. One more fucking thing we can’t fight shows up, and we run away together, throw our titles away for good, and become bandits or fur traders or something. I am _this_ close.”

 

“Deal,” Izumi says without hesitation, taking Arashi’s hand and hauling himself to his feet, shivering. “I’m freezing,” he mumbles, huddling down into his cloak. “And I want to go inside and curl up in bed and not deal with anything. But…but will you promise me something, too? Just…humor me.”

 

“Anything.” Arashi kisses Izumi’s temple, tugging him down the road towards the Keep. “Anything. Just ask.”

 

“If I _ever_ try to force myself on you, you fucking kill me. Or at least chop me up into enough pieces that it takes awhile for me to put myself back together again, and by then, you throw me into the ocean in a bag with some bricks in it.”

 

A cold chill that has nothing to do with Northern winds goes up Arashi’s spine, and he nods slowly. “I don’t know about the specifics,” he says quietly, the only other sound from his boots crunching through ice, “but I swear to you I’ll be the last person you ever try that with.”

 

“Good. Even the idea of it makes me want to die.” Izumi sniffs again, quietly, and wipes at his nose with the hem of his cloak. “Arashi, don’t tell anyone else this, but I _really_ don’t know what to do.”

 

“Gods, me neither,” Arashi admits gloomily. “Always before, I’d complain a bit, then run out and find which thing to hit with my shiny sword until things got better. But our glorious leaders are just as lost as we are, if not worse. So, what, we wait? We talk? We fight? Anything we do could get us all killed. I never thought I’d be begging for horrible bastards trying to cut my throat, but doesn’t that sound _relaxing_ right now?”

 

“Maybe for you, but I won’t even die,” Izumi moodily says in turn, slowing his steps a fraction to let Cupcake bound past, chasing after the reflection of light and shadow on the snow. “Can we drag an enormous barrel of booze into my room, have it all to ourselves, and try to make a list of possibilities? Maybe if we treat it like something’s viable, something will be…eventually. Like when I started crashing my way into your tent at night and eventually you thought I was pleasant and not just a fun fuck. See, we’re all capable of fooling ourselves after awhile.”

 

Arashi grins. “Let’s do it. Let’s send all the wizards to their Outpost for the night, I don’t want to look at them, even Makoto. But especially Mao, he smells fucking weird, did you notice?”

 

“Like demons,” Izumi crossly agrees. “I finally figured it out, after sitting around him for awhile. It’s been awhile since I was in the Shadowlands, so I’d forgotten how it smells. Damn it. I’ve known forever that he was Rei’s spy, but…damn.”

 

Arashi walks in silence for a few moments, watching Sena grow bigger and bigger. “Some of the options we discuss aren’t going to be pleasant. You know that, yeah?”

 

“Yeah. I know. That’s why I need to be drunk. Or at least, try to be drunk. Holy shit, Cupcake just ate an entire bird in one gulp, _you let that thing sleep with you._ ”

 

“That’s Mama’s good hunter,” Arashi croons, pride in his voice. “Don’t worry, he’ll spit up the bones and feathers after a while. The beak, too. Sometimes.”

 

“If that’s Mika, do you really want him to remember you calling him ‘Mama’s good hunter’? That’s _not_ sexy.”

 

“If it’s Mika, I’m going to have to forget about him spitting bones and beaks on my really nice shoes, so we’ll both be doing some forgetting.”

 

“I dunno, that really sounds like Mika.”

 

“Stop it, when I think about him I cry, and my face already hurts.”

 

“Sorry, sorry, don’t cry, it makes me feel like an awful brute,” Izumi huffs, clapping a hand against Arashi’s back. “You get the task of kicking wizards out. I’ll get the booze. I know it sounds like you’ve got the short end of the stick, but consider I have to turn Dayton down for the umpteenth time.”

 

“Just suck his dick already, he’d probably be so grateful he’d run the whole North for you,” Arashi suggests cheerfully, wiping at his face. “Not my fault if Makoto gives you the sad puppy eyes, he’s _not_ staying, he looks at my ass too intently when we fuck.”

 

“That’s why I can’t be there; the puppy eyes work on me, and I’ll come up with excuses. He likes to top, and _only_ top. Nice for me, not so much for you,” Izumi says with a snort, wiping his own face down with his cloak one last time as they near the Keep. “Is it gross of me that I almost _want_ to fuck Dayton? Even if I’m not that into him? What if he has a great dick? What if he’s _good_ at it? I’ve been up here for too long, I think…”

 

“You’ve been fucking just one person for too long, you mean,” Arashi points out. “Honestly, darling. You don’t judge Ritsu for having to feed on lots of different people, right? Why do you judge yourself so harshly?” He purses his lips. “I bet he is good at it. You know, you can see the way some people stand, they have big dicks, I guarantee…”

 

Izumi wavers, then gives into the urge to gossip, unable to help himself. “ _Right?_ ” he hisses, grabbing at Arashi’s arm. “I _know_ his dick is big. And he’s—ugh. Listen. If he wasn’t so _hairy_ , that’d be one thing, I think? But I’m almost starting to become inured to it, which—who am I, I know, but _gods_ , he’s tall, with such nice arms, and I sort of want him to break a wall by fucking me into it? Sorry. Sorry, I’ve definitely been up here for too long.”

 

“You grew up here,” Arashi assures him, squeezing his hands back. “It’s in your blood, not your fault. Sometimes I find myself craving blood sausage, not because it’s good, that’s just what I grew up with. You grew up surrounded by really hairy men with big, barrel chests and rippling arm muscles and giant—okay, _I’ve_ been up here too long, actually.”

 

“It’s like the plague,” Izumi groans, knocking his head against Arashi’s shoulder. “Once you start thinking about it, it will not stop. Like your morning stubble. Sorry, I know you hate it, but I still think about it because it makes me rock hard.”

 

“You wish I was hairier,” Arashi accuses. “You wish I was seven feet tall and had _chest hair!_ Admit it!”

 

“I—no! I do not! You’re ideal, because you’re tall and built like a god but still pretty! And you only _sometimes_ have stubble and you rub it on me and you have a perfect dick!”

 

Arashi’s face softens, mollified. “Very well. All right, I guess I can’t blame you for wanting steak as well as fresh bread with your meal. Sometimes it’s nice to have a vacation from our usual tastes, yeah?”

 

“Sometimes I just want to throw myself naked into a room of burly men that I vaguely trust just to see what would happen,” Izumi wearily says. “But then I remember self-respecting men don’t do this, but also that I have no real self-respect, so where do I draw the line?”

 

“Are you asking me for permission?” Arashi asks, amused. “Because honestly, I think you should do it. You’d probably be thinking better and clearer in no time. Hell, we’d probably solve this problem by sundown.”

 

“I…no. Don’t encourage me, please, not tonight,” Izumi groans, wiping both hands down his face. “Maybe I’ll do it later or something, but tonight, knowing my luck, I’d burst into tears after one orgasm and end up going on about how my sort-of-betrothed is kind of enslaved by the Demon King, and that’s only if his _other_ pet is telling the truth.”

 

 _An excuse for everything_ , Arashi thinks, but he keeps that behind his teeth, looping an arm around Izumi’s waist, walking close with him up to the Keep. “So, like, honestly,” he says, as quietly as possible, “are we going to have to kill the Emperor?”

 

“I’m not drunk enough for that conversation yet,” Izumi swiftly retorts, but then he hesitates, and adds more quietly, “It’s cute that you think you _could._ ”

 

“I just think that when people act a certain way,” Arashi adds softly, matching Izumi’s hushed tone, “they give us no choice but to try to find a way.” He bites his lip, worrying it slightly. “I’d be concerned for Shu, but we’ve already seen that it doesn’t _have_ to end…that way.”

 

Izumi grimaces, and shakes his head, pulling away as they reach the Keep’s door and shoving at it with his shoulder. It creaks, but doesn’t open, suctioned closed from the cold, and he sighs, staring up at Arashi and stepping back to let him do it instead. “I wouldn’t wish that sort of shit on anyone,” he says. “The previous Emperor _broke_ my bond, and it was one of the most painful things I’ve ever felt. I can’t even imagine what it felt like for Leo to feel his bonded die, and for it to be broken while that was happening. Also, this is seriously freaking me out to talk about it out in the open, so let’s wait until we’re behind closed doors, okay?”

 

“Fine, fine.” Arashi forces a smile, and pulls the door open with one nearly concussive yank of his arm. “I wasn’t serious about it, anyway. It was a joke. Pretty funny, right?”

 

“Stop doing that thing. You know which thing I’m talking about,” Izumi scolds, stepping in past him and pulling his cloak down from his face with a sigh of relief. “Go kick the wizards out, I’ll bring the booze, and we can talk about this more. All right?”

 

Ten minutes later, wizards safely kicked out, booze obtained, doors bolted, and furs piled up to make a rather serviceable nest, Arashi snuggles in, laying his head on Izumi’s thigh. “No more crying, yeah? The first one to cry tonight gets punched in the pretty nose, deal?”

 

“Yeah, it just makes my face hurt, anyway,” Izumi agrees, leaning back into the pile of furs and stroking Arashi’s hair. “Heh. Like this, I feel like a _real_ King in the North—in the warmest bed in the whole place with something pretty in my lap. I know, I know, I’m focusing, just let me live a little.”

 

“No, that’s good,” Arashi protests, and snuggles in, pressing a fond kiss to Izumi’s thigh. “Tell me what a real King in the North would be like.”

 

“Probably hairy and a lot taller than me,” Izumi says with a laugh, twisting a few strands of Arashi’s hair about his fingers. “But, seriously—did you know there used to _be_ two kings? Well, two kings in the human world, there’s always another in the Shadowlands, but…that’s why my mother was so quick to try and get me on the throne, years back,” Izumi wryly says. “Among other reasons, but—way back in the day, there was the Capital’s King, and the Northern King, and I imagine things worked much more smoothly, because everyone thought their voice got heard. Then everything centralized and the North got shafted, again. That was back when they just grouped the West and the North together as one big, cold blob, though.”

 

“It’s not that cold in the West,” Arashi protests. “It’s a lot warmer than here. Mm, I didn’t know any of that, how far back was that? Was it always one country, or were they, like, two countries back then, with a border and everything? Wait, does that mean that if we lived back then, you’d be my liege lord? Hot.”

 

 

“I’ve already always outranked you politically, you little snot,” Izumi sniffs, giving Arashi’s hair the gentlest of tugs. “This was…hundreds, hundreds of years ago. Maybe a thousand? I don’t know, history books are sketchy. The West and North were still called the West and the North, but the West was all under the control of the Northern King, so there wasn’t really a border. They just had regents and generals and the like over there, running parts of it because it was so large…like the Warden of the West. Where’d you think the name came from?”

 

 

“I had no idea,” Arashi admits cheerfully. “You think I stop and question every little thing I don’t understand? I’d never get anything else done.”

 

 

Izumi leans down over him, eyebrows raised. “You’re so lucky I think it’s cute that you’re stupid.”

 

 

“Oooh, look at me, I’m Mister Fancy Northerner and I went to school.”

 

 

“Ummm…yes? As opposed to?”

 

 

Arashi stares up at him. “We didn’t all grow up wealthy, you know.”

 

 

“I know that. In the North, even commoners go to school, though? Um, and not for nothing, I didn’t grow up wealthy. Just in a noble house. There’s a difference.”

 

 

Arashi laughs. “What’s the point of a commoner going to school? Soldiers and farmers don’t need to know…I don’t know, where the name Warden of the West came from, or how to do fancy writing. I never needed to know math until I got promoted to Captain. It’s a waste of time when they could be helping out the family.”

 

 

“…I have so many things I could say about that and you’ll take offense to all of them,” Izumi settles on after a moment. “A couple hours a day learning about basic history of your realm is pretty important, I think. And do you call basic reading and writing fancy? I’m not talking about the shit they put nobles through in the Capital, that’s different. I had to take classes there, too, because I lived in the palace as a teenager, and let me tell you—that shit is a waste of time.” Mentioning he got top marks is unnecessary when it means he’ll be teased.

 

 

Arashi shrugs, not meeting Izumi’s eyes. “It just all seems the same to me,” he admits. “Where I grew up, school is for scholars and nobles, people who are actually going to use it. I was helping my father with work as soon as I could walk, fetching hammers and bringing water to the men, that sort of thing. Try telling my old dad that it’s more important for his son to learn the names of people who died a hundred years ago than to have an extra hand around the site. What good is it for children to learn stuff they’ll never use?”

 

 

“Well—whatever,” Izumi settles upon as he bites back another round of pedantic lecturing. Damn, but he’s been around Shu for too long. “You’ve learned it now, more or less, and what you haven’t, I know—or Ritsu does, the little shit. You know what used to really spook me, though? Mika. That little shit had never seen a day of school in his life, but his handwriting was prettier than Tsukasa’s!”

 

 

“Shu,” Arashi assures him. “It was all Shu. They basically never talked to anyone but each other in the Academy, you know? That’s like, ten years of one-on-one instruction with…listen, I might think he’s arrogant and weird and doesn’t speak the kindest words, but he’s undeniably brilliant. Plus…I mean, knowing what we do now? I’m pretty sure they were communicating…on another level, too. Helped Mika understand any lesson Shu was teaching him, without really having to learn it.”

 

 

“Except he learned it. He was—is a creepy brat and you know it, but smart as a whip and way too good at hiding it,” Izumi grouses, reaching for his tankard and downing back an enormous mouthful. “Shu would do anything for him. He’s…a really good person, even behind all the mean stuff that comes out of his mouth sometimes. That’s why, the idea of killing his bonded…even if Rei’s doing some shitty things, even I can’t really…get behind that.”

 

 

Arashi falls silent for a moment, dark thoughts dominating his mind. “I only meant,” he says softly, “if we can’t…figure out a way around this…or to persuade him…I’m sworn to a blood pact to protect my king. So are you, though I guess it doesn’t affect you. I just…this is more fancy magic shit, I don’t know what to do about it.”

 

 

“If I’m understanding this whole thing correctly…I guess it’s hard for me to even be that angry at Rei for putting a thrall on Leo in the first place,” Izumi admits, setting his drink back down. “I don’t trust Rei, and he makes me nervous, he always has—but if what he’s doing is stopping the previous Emperor from getting anywhere near Leo…then…” Izumi shrugs, swallowing as he glances aside. “I noticed it. Awhile back, in the Sandlands. I didn’t know what it was, and Rei just said it was a protective spell on him. Remember, when he walked in on us after we saw Mika and Leo for the first time in forever?”

 

 

Arashi nods slowly. “You freaked out. You tried to kill him, I didn’t get it back then.”

 

“Yeah. I didn’t know why I even wanted to—it just…something really rubbed me the wrong way, you know? I was really on edge, anyway, and something just felt…off.” Izumi shrugs again unhappily. “I assumed I was just being gross and doing that possessive thing that men sometimes do. Not that I wanted to admit it at the time, but Rei brings that out in people, so…”

 

Arashi grimaces. “He does. He really does. What’s up with that? I guess it’s just the whole…sex wizard…thing. It’s that aura of, I could have your man if I felt like it but I won’t even bother.”

 

“But he _did_ feel like it, obviously,” Izumi gloomily says. “He totally fucked Leo. He’s fucked everyone we like. Except _us_.”

 

“…Hey, that…” Arashi pauses, mildly horrified as he thinks. “Fuck. He has. Every single person I _know_ , let alone like. Except us. What the fuck? We’re _so_ hot.”

 

“I think about this all the time, and I’m really, honestly, offended.”

 

“I mean, I can explain it if it’s you? Like, maybe his kind and yours don’t get along?” Arashi guesses, sitting up and utterly offended. “Or like, maybe you feeding on him and him feeding on you would make a loop or a reaction or something? But like, what’s wrong with _me_? You’d think he’d have wanted a threesome with me and Mika, he likes having threesomes with Mika well enough, hmph. Liked.”

 

“I guess the loop kind of thing would make sense…because drakes feed on sex, and he’s a sex wizard, so we’d just keep eating each other without really feeding each other?” Izumi shudders a little at the thought, and takes another drink. “It’s not that he doesn’t like blondes. He likes blondes plenty. And he likes the sword-swinging type, too. Actually, I really don’t get it, I’d fuck you every day if you’d let me. Also, _apparently_ ,” Izumi says, leaning in, “he only had a threesome with Shu and Mika _once_. Shu told me.”

 

Arashi blinks, startled. “What? Once? What the—if I had two people that beautiful willing to—what the fuck is _wrong_ with him? Ugh, we’re off topic, we’re totally off-topic.”

 

“Because Mika and Shu were apart from him in the Sandlands for the better part of them having their bond silenced for the first time. Most bonds _aren’t_ like theirs, I learned that,” Izumi says, downing another mouthful of ale and wincing at the taste. At least it’s _strong_. Thank the gods, he needs to be drunk. “If he could’ve, I bet he would’ve all the time. _I_ would’ve. Gods, I’ve tried to get in Shu’s pants so many times.”

 

“I’m surprised he hasn’t done it with you, honestly. You’re—Izumi, _kara_ , you’re _so_ beautiful, I—“ Arashi shuts his mouth, looking suddenly lost.

 

Izumi falls silent for a moment, then takes another drink, and promptly shoves Arashi’s own mostly untouched tankard into his grasp. “Drink. He didn’t want to do it because of my magic. That’s the only reason, so at least I’ve got that going for me.”

 

“And I’m ugly,” Arashi says into the tankard, miserably curling around it. “Or maybe he won’t bottom to people he thinks he’s better than, I wouldn’t put something gross like that past him.”

 

 

“What the hell, you’re _gorgeous_ , who the hell said you were ugly?” Izumi demands, scooting closer to him. “Arashi. Shu’s a picky asshole, you know that? And Rei—well, you know, maybe it’s a good thing that he hasn’t fucked either of us. He’s _scary_.” 

 

 

“…You’re probably right,” Arashi mutters, and swallows about half of the tankard in three huge swallows, eyes squeezed shut. “I’m tired. I’m so fucking tired of not being happy. No, no, shit, no, I said I wouldn’t be maudlin tonight!” He slaps his own cheeks, startling himself out of the doldrums before he can start crying. “Right. What are we going to do next? If I don’t have a plan, I’m going to scream.”

 

 

“Let’s just—write it all out, a list will help,” Izumi says, downing back the rest of his tankard before he slides out of their nest to grab the required paper and ink. “I used to make Leo do this, when he’d get all…you know how he’d get,” he says, fluttering a dismissive hand. “And it helped. “So—the main issues. Those gates. Bad things pouring out of them. I don’t think there’s physically anything we can do about that more than we already have, right?” 

 

 

“We can capture a few priests and torture them until they genuinely wish for death,” Arashi says gloomily. “If we want to really make our mothers proud.”

 

 

“I wouldn’t mind doing that to the ones that like to say I’m an abomination,” Izumi says with a shrug. “They’re in the Capital, though. People might notice that they’re gone.” 

 

 

“And apparently it has to be a _paladin_ , specifically,” Arashi says with a sigh. “Of course, it has to be the armed ones who live in a fortress. Don’t even put that option down, honestly. I know myself, I know you, neither of us could do it.”

 

 

“…I’m writing it down just so I can cross it out,” Izumi wearily says, doing just that, his script only slightly sloppy courtesy of the alcohol. “Okay, so, we can’t throw paladins on it. Fine. Isara wanted me to strike up negotiations with whatever’s in charge, which I imagine is something Ritsu pressured him to bring up. He’s been drowning in Shadowland politics.” 

 

 

“…That’s not a bad idea,” Arashi says slowly, finishing the tankard for good, holding it up sadly. “Ritsu adores you, yeah? And dragons to dimes he knows and is willing to tell you more than anyone else.”

 

 

Izumi nods slowly, frowning as he snatches Arashi’s tankard away, and stumbles out of bed to refill both of theirs with the barrel he literally rolled into the room. “He’d be honest with me, yeah. I should definitely set up a time to speak with him. I don’t know what I’d have to offer a bunch of archdemons, though? Do you think they want to eat me?” 

 

 

“Might not be you as a person,” Arashi points out. “Might be something the North has to offer, you know? You’re the Lord of a huge dominance, you’ve got trade routes, you’ve got bloodstock, you’ve got mines and crops and game areas. Hey, try to sell them magic anti-aging creams, it worked on me.”

 

 

“Well, you’re lovely, so they must’ve worked,” Izumi sweetly says, thrusting the tankard back into Arashi’s grasp as he crawls back into their nest. “Is this stuff stronger than usual? This is the first time I’ve felt _drunk_  in forever. Did you put Icewine in it? You know, maybe I _can_  strike up trade deals. I’m the only person in the realm allowed to import Shadewine; I could make the North _so rich._ ” 

 

 

“Haven’t you had that trade contract for a long time?” Arashi asks, frowning as he runs his tongue over his teeth, left to right, right to left, amused at the mildly numb sensation. “I thought Ritsu was trying to make you rich, have you really not done anything about that? Heh, I guess school isn’t everything.”

 

 

Izumi grimaces, and takes another long drink from his tankard. “I’ve sort of sat on it, yeah,” he admits. “My men aren’t entirely wrong; I’ve had my head up the ass of the king for awhile now. I just wanted to make sure he’d succeed, especially after everything that happened.” 

 

 

“Well, now he’s got a dragon,” Arashi says bluntly, “and your people need you. I guess. I don’t know what they need, I’m not a Northerner.”

 

 

“Why do you think I’m here?” Izumi huffs. “And I don’t want to go back. I told you—I’m going to live out my life up here, alone and miserable.” 

 

 

“Alone with the several hundred men and women who would die for you and happily spread their legs for you every moment of every day,” Arashi reminds him, with a little tipsy giggle. “Plus, if his Majesty has a dragon now, he can come up every damn day, you know?”

 

 

Izumi promptly bursts into tears. “Sorry—s-sorry, I knooow, we’re not supposed to be c-crying,” he sniffles, shoving a hand over his eyes as he sucks in a deep, ragged breath. “B-but it really sucks when he h-hasn’t even _once_  t-tried to come up here, it’s like he doesn’t _care_  at all—he went down South for a bunch of s-slaves! But coming up here—fuck t-that, I guess.”

 

 

“No,” Arashi says suddenly, and climbs up onto Izumi’s lap, eyes blazing even as his cheeks are flushed with drink. “Fuck _him_ , fuck both of them, we do _everything_ and we put ourselves out there! Right? And they’re just—they’re always—fuck _men_ , right? They’re all, ooh, I’m the king, I’m in a coma, whatever I’m doing I can’t be with you! Gimme that beer, I definitely need lots more.”

 

 

Izumi miserably shoves his tankard into Arashi’s grasp instead, feeling far drunker than he has in a long, long time, and not entirely sure he likes it. “I’m gonna fix Mika, one way or another,” he says, sniffling again, his breath hiccuping when he reins in another pathetic noise. “I’m gonna. Maybe…maybe these archdemon things, maybe they know things. I’m going to ask. First thing in the morning, I’m going to contact Ritsu, and figure that out.” He crumples up the list they’d been writing. “What’s the p-point in making this list? That’s what I’m gonna do. I don’t…I don’t know what to do about Leo, or Rei, or any of that, but…” 

 

 

“Then fuck all of that until you’re done,” Arashi says, then buries his face in the tankard, draining most of it, spilling just a bit onto his shirt. “What do you want me to do? Come with, or stay here? I’m not going to have an orgy with your men.”

 

 

Izumi sets a hand on Arashi’s knee. “You’d _hate that_ ,” he says, very seriously. “You _only_  like pretty boys. You _know_  I’m right.”

 

 

Arashi grimaces, then shakes his head. “I’m not even being funny, the idea of being trapped between a bunch of guys bigger than me who all want to fuck me, that basically sounds like something I’d freak out about and wind up murdering all your men. Sorry.”

 

 

“Yeah. That’s why you’re not invited.” Izumi hesitates, then huffily adds, “Honestly, I don’t even _really_  want it. I mean, I kind of do…but mostly…do not repeat this, especially do not tell my mother…I want to climb Dayton like a _tree_. Sorry. That’s off-topic. I’m horny.” 

 

 

Arashi snorts. “Of course you do. He’s sweet and he’d fuck you so hard they’d hear you on top of the nearest glacier. Unfortunately, it would make your mother so happy she’d sing like a canary, so that’s rough.”

 

 

“I didn’t get to spend my rebellious teenage years around her, so I’m making up for it now,” Izumi declares, snatching his tankard away as he wipes at his eyes and goes to refill it. “I want him to fuck me so hard I can’t even scream. Anyway,” he briskly says, taking another long drink, which sloshes out a bit on his way back to snuggle up to Arashi, “you’ve never been in the Shadowlands, have you? Not even _once_.” 

 

 

“I thought it wasn’t safe for humans?” Arashi raises an eyebrow. “Think I count? It’s weird if I don’t, right? Since it was my great-great-great grancestor or something? Nnh, you’re soft and warm, Dayton’s a lucky man.”

 

 

“Stooop, I don’t want to _marry him_ ,” Izumi bemoans, batting at Arashi’s chest uselessly. “I just want to know how big his cock is. He used to help me rescue cats,” he says, his voice dropping to a hushed, conspiratorial whisper. “That’s why my mother thought we’d fuck. Ugh, you probably count as a human, but maybe you could visit if I warned him ahead of time that you were coming? How else do they bring humans in and fuck them all the time? I’m just assuming they do. Rei and Ritsu exist.” 

 

 

“There’s probably some kind of food visa,” Arashi guesses. “So they can import the things they think are tasty. I’m tasty, I bet I’d bet tasty.”

 

 

“No one’s allowed to eat you but me,” Izumi insistently tells him. “You’re mine.” 

 

 

“Ehh, I don’t get a say in it?” Arashi finishes draining his tankard, and it slips from his fingers, startling him with the sound. “Whoa. Whoa, what is _in_ that ale? Feels like Icewine, where did you get it?”

 

 

“Cellars,” Izumi airily says, unconcerned. “Maybe it had Icewine in it. Good. And _no_ , you don’t get a say in it, of course I’m going to _eat you._  I don’t even want Ritsu to nibble on you, I get jealous.” 

 

 

“I don’t like it when he does it,” Arashi confesses, with a little giggle. “He’s sloppy, it hurts, and it hurts worse the next day. Mm, did you know I feel different after sex with you?”

 

 

Izumi perks up at that, scooting closer, gaze intent. “Really? Different, like how? Also, he’s doing it wrong if it hurts later. I mean, when he bites me, it goes away almost instantly, but still. I think he’s doing it wrong.” 

 

 

“You…you _know_ that normal humans feel it later when something hurts them a little, right?” Arashi asks, staring. “Not everyone is…drakey.”

 

 

“…Vaguely. I haven’t had something…linger since…” Izumi frowns, thinking, and automatically reaches up to the base of his neck, rubbing an irritated hand over the only scar he has. “Awhile. Anyway, go back to how you feel different. A good kind of different?” 

 

 

“Uhh….” Arashi frowns, trying to think properly, processing the question the whole way through a fine layer of booze. “I wouldn’t call it bad? But different. I feel kinda…sharper. Like my reflexes are faster, and I’m kind of leaner somehow? But also colder, and a lot hungrier.”

 

 

“That’s hot,” Izumi says, setting his chin down atop Arashi’s shoulder. “I want you to come with me to the Shadowlands, but…I don’t want you to get eaten by someone else. Or to feel bad.” 

 

 

“So put me in charge of your men here,” Arashi says softly, rubbing his chin on Izumi’s shoulder like a cat seeking pettings. “Unless you think that’ll make them crazy with lust. I don’t know, I want to help, but…I don’t want to be here, honestly. I’m a little curious about the Shadowlands, but I _really_ don’t want to get eaten. Like. Of all the ways to die. I want to get eaten the least.”

 

 

“I didn’t know you’d be okay with being in charge here,” Izumi admits, sliding his arms around Arashi’s neck as he slowly slinks into his lap. “I didn’t…want to ask one more thing of you. I know, you’ve said you’ll do anything, but after a point, I still don’t _like_  having to ask. I don’t even know how much time might pass while I’m there—it might be a day, it might be a week.” 

 

 

“Would they listen to me? I mean…” Arashi shrugs, looking away. “I want to help. I want to do something that really helps, if I can do that here, _great_. I can at least command the wizards, you know? I can make use of them if anything does show up without you being here. And your men are being sent down South, so…yeah, it’ll basically just be my outpost, I can do that.”

 

 

“They really like you, you know.” Izumi flops forward into Arashi’s chest, staring up at him through his mussed hair. “Like…a whole lot.” 

 

 

Arashi reaches down, brushing the hair back from Izumi’s face. “You’re just saying that,” he retorts softly, “because _you_ like me a whole lot.”

 

 

“ _No_ ,” Izumi petulantly says. “If they didn’t like you, you’d _know_. Instead of calling you pretty, they’d insult you. They _don’t_  like Leo. You, you are good.” 

 

 

“Not as much as they like you.” Arashi smiles, and squeezes Izumi’s shoulder. “They _love_ you. My men at home? They don’t know who I am. These guys, they’d all die for you. That’s, that’s so special, you know? So special.”

 

 

“I’m trying to compliment _you_ ,” Izumi huffs, lifting a hand to prod at Arashi’s cheek. “Why do you do that? I don’t compliment a lot of people. Let me praise you.” 

 

 

“Nnno.” Arashi slowly shakes his head. “No. Sorry. I hate that, it makes me uncomfy. I mean, tell me I’m pretty, but…I’d rather compliment _you_.”

 

 

“But I want you to marry me and we can combine the North and West like back in the day, and you can run my armies because you’re _so_  good at it, and I’ll have so many connections between here and the Capital and the Shadowlands that we can be filthy rich from exports…” Izumi sighs dreamily, flopping onto his back. 

 

 

“Who’s the bride?” Arashi demands, slumping back on the furs, fumbling for his tankard, realizing it’s empty, and tossing it aside again. “That’s a dealbreaker. Because the rest sounds _perfect_ , I’ll open the heavy doors and you can do the math.”

 

 

“You, obviously,” Izumi snorts, rolling over to grab at Arashi and snuggle up against him. “But we’re not getting married in the Capital, so we’re both grooms. In the North, _no one gives a shit._ ” 

 

 

“ _How_ do I make the West like that?” Arashi demands, pulling Izumi close, snuggling under a big fur. “We used to be the same country, right? I mean, our own? So how do I make the West like the North?”

 

 

“It’s been like this as long as I can remember,” Izumi admits, eyes lidding happily as he snuggles up underneath the furs, breathing out a slow, pleased sigh. “Even the old people here…they don’t even bat an eye, you know? And that’s how you know it’s been around for a lo~ong time. I think you just have to make laws to let things happen and wait for shitty people to die.” 

 

 

“Or kill all the shitty old people,” Arashi suggests. “Doesn’t that sound better? Between the two of us, we totally could. Royal decree. Anyone who calls us any mean names _dies_.”

 

 

“Then they’d say all the degenerates are killing people,” Izumi bemoans, nuzzling up underneath Arashi’s chin. “Why not just be wildly successful and beautiful and watch them all _hate_  that? You smell so good.” 

 

 

“Because I want them to love me,” Arashi says petulantly. “I want to be fabulous and ruffle all their feathers, but I definitely also want them all to love me desperately. I want to be a leader they adore, you know? And when I die, I want them to mourn for a hundred days, with wailing in the streets.”

 

 

Izumi mulls that over as he buries his face into Arashi’s hair, breathing in the scent of him. “What does the West care about? I don’t even know. Like…what makes a good, valued man in their eyes? Other than ’doesn’t fuck other men’, apparently.” 

 

 

Arashi mulls that over for a moment, thinking slowly. “Someone who…takes care of his family,” he says finally. “Someone who works hard, and lives a quiet home life that doesn’t bother other people. Someone who’s always noticed in the gods’ temples with sacrifices, and never has to rely on anyone else’s kindness. You always want to be the one that people want to borrow from, you know? What’s it like in the North? Is it really any different?”

 

 

Izumi curls the ends of Arashi’s hair around his fingers, ignoring the sluggish thud of his own pulse. “In the North, it’s far more about…your own individual talents, and what those can do for everyone. Just because you’re born a farmer doesn’t mean you have to _stay_  a farmer, so long as you’re still helping your family with what you do. The separation between commoners and nobles is so much…less? There are farmers here that make more money than my family does. Does that make sense?” 

 

 

“It makes sense,” Arashi says slowly, “in a way that…I mean, I can understand it, it’s just obviously not what I’m used to. Sounds better, though. Lots of…mm, mobility. Where I’m from, if you’re born a farmer, it’s because the gods want you to be a farmer, and going against that means you’re…” He trails off, thinking. “Hey, you know how a lot of priests are really corrupt? What if I paid one to declare all of my laws ordained by the gods? Ha, it’s a joke, but it’s funny.”

 

 

“You should do it,” Izumi bluntly says, entirely unfazed by the idea. “If gods are all your people care about—and that’s what it sounds like—what else can you really do? Fuck your gods, honestly. My people don’t give a shit about those kinds of gods.” 

 

 

“I don’t think they’re real,” Arashi confesses, then covers his mouth with a giggle. “Oops. I mean, if they were real, they’d strike me down or something by now, right? Instead of making me the most successful man in my entire Dominance? Just saying.”

 

 

“They’re _not_  real,” Izumi agrees, idly running a bare foot up one of Arashi’s legs. “We’re basically living amongst the gods those stories are based around, you know. Wizards. Creatures. Those are as close to gods as you’ll ever see.” 

 

 

“Makes sense.” Arashi giggles again, and squirms under Izumi’s touch. “Mm, tell me a story, an old one. My mom only ever told me stories about monsters, tell me a story about something that really happened. Something you learned in school.”

 

 

Izumi thinks for a moment, his fingers toying with the front lacings on Arashi’s shirt. “It’s hard to figure out what really happened, and what didn’t when some of these stories are so weird,” he says. “But something I heard both here, _and_  in the Academy, was about how nymphs control the seasons. They decided which parts of the country would have true winters and for how long, all by drawing straws. That’s why the North has winter for so long, and why the West, which is next door, has winter for _half_  as long. In the Academy, they now tell the story as if it was Rei’s great-great-great-great- _great_ -or maybe something great again-grandfather playing around.”

 

 

“If it was him,” Arashi says, eyes lidding in pleasant, buzzing pleasure from the closeness, “then he was definitely the one holding the straws. And he was cheating. Nnh, are you trying to have sex with me? I’m drunk, you know it’ll, uh, take a while…”

 

 

“No, I just want you naked because I want to lay on you. That helps, sometimes.” Izumi nuzzles up underneath his chin. “And being naked under lots of blankets in the cold is the _best_  feeling.” 

 

 

Arashi sighs in relief, and immediately shucks his shirt, then his trousers. “You’re right. That’s why Mika’s on to something. C’mere. Go to Dayton if you want to be fucked into next week, but I’m here for as many cuddles as possible.”

 

 

Izumi immediately sheds his own clothes and plasters himself up against Arashi, breathing in a long, content sigh of relief. “I can’t remember the last time I was drunk,” he happily says, lacing his fingers around the back of Arashi’s neck. “When I was…18? Whenever we were wandering around the Sandlands together for the first time, something like that…gods, we were so _stupid_.” 

 

 

“ _So_ stupid,” Arashi agrees with a groan, pulling the fur over them completely, leaving them in darkness. “Everyone thought you were a whore. And that I was there to buy a whore, remember?”

 

 

“You look like a man that wants to buy a whore. Handsome, rich, successful. Unmarried.” 

 

 

Arashi’s cock gives an unexpected twitch, and he looks down, frowning in surprise. “Really?” he asks it, then shrugs. “Tell me more, I guess.”

 

 

Izumi blinks in surprise as well, his eyes refocusing in the darkness of being encased in furs. “Huh. Okay. I mean, I’ll sell myself to a brothel if it means _you’ll_  come and buy me for the night.” 

 

 

“Wh-what would you wear?” Arashi asks, a little helplessly. “I don’t know, it’s not usually my thing, but I’m drunk, yeah? And…how would you know I was your kind of client? If you play along, I’ll probably get hard long enough to fuck you.”

 

 

“Nothing but jewelry.” Izumi was going to play along anyway, but now there’s no other option. “Pretty, sparkly diamonds, down my neck, nipples, maybe a chain or two around my waist, but…what’s the point in having it left to the imagination when you’re a whore?” Izumi’s fingers splay against Arashi’s chest. “You smell good, even though you’re a soldier, and your hair is long and well-kept and you’re probably a little nervous, because it’s not like you _need_  to pay for someone to get laid, but…you’re kind of sick of fucking whatever boy turns up in your tent, aren’t you.” 

 

 

“Nipples,” Arashi says, voice a little strangled. “Jewelry…are they…pierced?” He swallows. “Listen. I saw one boy in the Sandlands with a ring through each, and a chain dangling between them, and it went all the way down…until it went into his waistband…” He laughs nervously. “You could probably tell that I’ve never paid for it before, right? But I’m sick of hiding it from my commanding officers, fucking boys in the dark like a criminal.”

 

 

“Definitely pierced.” Izumi grabs one of Arashi’s hands, dragging his fingers up to a nipple. It’s not pierced, obviously, but the little nub is already achingly hard, waiting to be touched. “It’s okay if you’ve never paid for it. Mmn, just flash a bit of coin to prove you’ve got it,” he breathes, nuzzling up underneath Arashi’s chin. “And you don’t have to fuck like a criminal tonight.” 

 

 

“And…you’ll take care of me.”

 

It’s easy. It’s maybe too easy, to grab at this comfort, to feel like the lost, aching, angry, lonely young man he’d been not too long before. It’s easy to imagine he’d never been lucky enough to take command in the field, never impressed his commanders, never met a wizard boy with two-toned eyes or a cold Northern lordling. It’s painfully easy to imagine the man he’d been, the man he might still be, confident in his battle prowess, terrified someone might learn the truth— _and aren’t you still that person? Aren’t you still hiding? Don’t you still want the comfort that a lovely young man, dripping in jewels, offering safety and discretion and_ ease _, would bring?_

 

“You see men like me a lot,” he whispers hoarsely, his blood pounding in his ears. The darkness enhances everything, makes it feel so real. “You know the kind of thing I need, don’t you?”

 

“Of course I’ll take care of you,” Izumi breathes, his eyes lidded, nearly glowing bright, pale blue in the darkness as he shifts, mouth parting for him to suck at Arashi’s throat as he slings a leg over Arashi’s thighs, pressing him down onto his back. Skin to skin contact is good enough, but _this_ is better, with Arashi being so warm underneath him, trembling but aching all the same. Izumi pulls out the tie to his hair, tossing it aside before he bends to catch Arashi’s mouth with his own, teeth gentle as they nip at his lower lip. “You’re so _handsome_ , Milord,” he murmurs. “Maybe I’ll give you a discount just for that.” 

 

The curls of Izumi’s hair brushing across Arashi’s skin make him shiver, and his breath catches, coming in shallow little pulses, washing across Izumi’s chin. “Don’t bother,” he whispers. “I have the coin. I won’t be cruel, I promise, I don’t want anything…” His hand trails up, thumb gently circling one hard nipple, his hand trembling as if this really is his first time outside an infantry tent.

 

Izumi’s breath hiccups, his teeth sinking into his own lower lip as he resists the urge to lurch forward and kiss Arashi like he always does. Too familiar for this, even though this _feels_ much more intimate, somehow. “You c-can…play with those, however you like, Milord,” he gasps instead, shifting where he straddles Arashi to settle his weight more comfortable over those strong thighs, feeling the growing hardness of Arashi’s cock slide against his skin. Surprising, but he is _not_ going to complain. “That’s why they’re decorated—so you don’t forget about them…”

 

In the dark, Izumi could be anyone. In the dark, Arashi finds that if he could imagine anyone in all the world on top of him right now, it would be a slender young man with silver curls and stormy gray eyes, and the sweet curve of a soft rump sitting on his thighs. His lip trembles, either from the pretended scenario or the very real way Izumi touches him like he’s something precious, and he sucks in a breath, bringing up his other hand, toying with both of Izumi’s nipples now. “I won’t forget about any part of you,” he whispers. “I’m headed for dangerous battles soon, but I’ll carry you with me, in my heart.”

 

“H…how is someone as sweet as you supposed to be a soldier, huh?” Izumi gasps, planting his hands against Arashi’s shoulders, curling his fingers in as he arches his back, rocking back with a slow, but no less _intent_ grind. He’s sitting just so, making it easy for Arashi’s cock to slide up against his own when he moves, and Izumi chokes on a groan when his own cock already jumps and drips at the stimulation. “Maybe you should just take me back with you,” he lowly suggests, tipping his head forward with a soft gasp when Arashi’s fingers plucking at his nipples makes his cock _throb_. “I-if you keep…touching me like that, I’m not…going to let you leave, Milord…”

 

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” The voice is a whisper, even lower than before, as if Arashi is afraid that even his own ears will hear it. “Maybe…a man like me doesn’t belong in the army.” His hands drag down from Izumi’s nipples, down to his waist, one brushing over to curl tentatively around Izumi’s cock, as if it’s one of the first he’s ever touched. “Maybe I belong here after all.”

 

Izumi’s ragged exhale turns to a throaty little laugh as he pitches forward, unable to stop himself from thrusting into the warm touch of Arashi’s hand. “Here?” he archly presses, giving into the urge to lean forward and put his mouth on Arashi’s neck, sucking and kissing up to his ear as his own hand slides down, grabbing at Arashi’s cock in turn. “In a brothel? You’re certainly pretty enough to be a whore, Milord…”

 

“I’d be…no good at it,” Arashi groans, hips thrusting up urgently, leaking all over Izumi’s hand, biting his lip at the flood of sensation, as powerful as it has been at any time, as if he really is a green, untouched, brash young man. “N-not like you, you’re—I don’t w-want to offend, but you must be born for this, gods—“

 

Izumi’s teeth catch at the lobe of Arashi’s ear, sucking it into his mouth as he squeezes and strokes Arashi’s cock, adjusting his grip to wrap his overeager fingers around both of them at once. “You’d be such a _lovely_ whore,” Izumi breathes, sticking his tongue into the shell of Arashi’s ear, amused at the way that just makes Arashi’s cock harder. “You’re built like a _god_ , Milord—don’t lie, you just want pretty men to show up and play with you so you can get _paid_ , don’t you?”

 

Arashi cries out suddenly, cock jerking, spilling against Izumi’s hand and cock, startling him so much he can do nothing but cling, tremble, and gasp for breath, hands shaking. “Wh—what was _in_ that ale?” he asks breathlessly, eyes huge in the darkness. “Sorry, I’m sorry, you were just so good, I didn’t expect…”

 

Entirely unfazed, Izumi steals a kiss from Arashi’s lips before shoving his hand right back to his still-hard cock, his own back arching with a breathy sigh. “I’ll charge you double if you don’t help me, too, Milord,” he teases without breaking character, teeth lightly catching against Arashi’s swollen lower lip. “Or are you the kind of man that leaves his whores desperate?”

 

“I—“

 

Arashi swallows hard, hand dropping to Izumi’s cock, wrapping tentatively around it. “I’ve never had a…I’ve never paid for it before,” he says, honestly. “Show me…how to help you, please?”

 

“Tighter. Like you would your own…or have you never done that either?” Izumi murmurs, his mouth parting when Arashi’s fingers squeeze around him, warm and distractingly soft when his brain tells him they should be so much more sword-calloused. He swallows noisily, his cheeks hot as he ruts forward into that touch. “Keep stroking there—a-and—“ Izumi tugs at Arashi’s hair, trying to pull his mouth to his throat. “If you mark me, I…I’ll remember you, after you leave, so…please…”

 

Arashi’s instinct is to bite the way he _knows_ Izumi likes, but his mouth knows the game better than his mind, and it seals gently over the skin, nibbling slightly, but sucking sweetly on the skin, softly at first, then harder, hungrier, as his hand keep stroking. It’s too easy to remember how nervous he’d been at the first touch of a man, how much he’d _wanted_ , but been afraid to show his desire. “Good boys don’t,” he whispers, voice trembling against Izumi’s neck before he finds another spot to kiss and mark. His hand tightens, not too tight, still a light touch, but he squeezes the head with every stroke, experimental and careful. “But you’re…more than that.”

 

Izumi’s next response dissolves into a throaty groan, his head pitching to the side to let Arashi’s mouth do whatever it wants, even when it’s not _entirely_ enough. “ _I’m_ more than that?” he manages with a noise that swiftly turns to a whine, his own hand fumbling back down again, still sticky from Arashi’s release when he grabs at Arashi’s hand. “Milord, you…you’re teasing me on purpose now, please…ahh, gods, you have such a good mouth, your hands are so _soft_ , please, _please_ let me come…”

 

Arashi opens his mouth to say that Izumi can do whatever he likes, then catches himself at the last moment. He is paying, isn’t he?

 

“You’re so lovely,” he breathes, squeezing Izumi as he’s being shown, stroking faster, faster, squeezing tighter, until it really is the way he does it on himself, brutal and quick. “When you do, c-can I taste it? Go ahead, please…”

 

Izumi doesn’t bother biting down a sharp, breathy cry when he spills almost immediately, clinging to whatever part of Arashi that his hands find when he drips over Arashi’s fingers, onto his stomach, onto his own thighs when he pitches forward, panting raggedly into Arashi’s neck. Without thinking, he trails his own, trembling fingers through the mess, and stuffs a pair of them past Arashi’s parted lips, dragging them over his tongue. “Questions like that,” he breathes, “m-make it sound…like you really do want to be a whore.”

 

Arashi lets out a whimper around those fingers, grabbing at Izumi’s wrist, holding him close as he sucks, eyes closed. His tongue quests carefully, dipping between each digit, licking and suckling until he cleans them completely, letting them fall from his lips at last. “Maybe…in another life,” he whispers, and feels his heart ache. “I’m not pretty like you. I’m a soldier. Things are expected of me.”

 

“You could just run away,” Izumi murmurs, sliding his hand down Arashi’s chest as he comes to rest on top of him, uncaring of the sweat and slick that more or less sticks them together underneath all the furs. “You’re not pretty like _me_ , but that doesn’t mean you aren’t pretty, and…well. The world always needs more whores.”

 

Arashi almost protests, but the very idea makes him tired, so he doesn’t. “Would you take me under your wing? Teach me how to please a man?”

 

“You’re already a natural, why not?” Izumi nuzzles his way into Arashi’s neck again, breathing in deep. “You’re too handsome not to keep playing with me. Mmn, or at least keep petting me.”

 

“Don’t worry. I have enough coin to keep you and your master happy all night,” Arashi assures him, hands gently running up and down his back. “Thank you. For taking care of me. It wasn’t my first time, but…”

 

“But your first time with a whore. Aren’t you lucky, then, that you got me?” Izumi stretches with a low, pleased sound, absently reaching up to rub a thumb over where, at least, he can imagine the pleasant mark of a hickey or two would be—

 

—and immediately finds himself startled with the soreness that still remains.

 

Sated and still drunk, it’s a little difficult to _freak out_ , especially when he has no idea what that could possibly mean. He’s drunk enough that it could easily hinder his natural reflex to just heal _everything_ …but that doesn’t make much sense, either, when he tries to think about it. Being drunk…he doesn’t _get_ drunk, unless he _tries_ to hold onto that feeling. _Gods, not another thing right now_ , he inwardly pleads, shutting his eyes as he tries not to tense up and start stressing. “How many hickeys did you leave?” he settles upon instead, because that’s _fun_ , right?

 

“Mm, two or three,” Arashi says, sated and pleased, and fetches Izumi a little squeeze to his rear. “At least in the dark, I can pretend I did, heh. You have such pretty skin, you know? Ah, damn, I think my drunk is fading. Too much work to get more ale.”

 

Izumi pulls the furs down, unable to stand the stifling, sticky heat of their makeshift fort any longer. “How many?” he asks again, trying to sound casual. “If you squeeze my ass, I’m going to get hard again.”

 

Arashi drops his hand. “I told you, two or three. I wasn’t really counting.”

 

Izumi sits back, pulling his hair back with both hands. “Count now, for real. Please?”

 

Arashi squints in the light, then frowns. “Four, I guess. Mm, that one’s just a splotch, but I guess it counts. You keeping them around for a reason? Other than aesthetics, which, nice.”

 

Izumi drops his hands, hair bouncing down limply with them. “I’m too drunk for this,” he settles upon, slowly listing to the side. “And I’m not even _that_ drunk anymore. Ahh…fuck.”

 

“Fall asleep with me,” Arashi insists, crushing Izumi to his side, that monstrous strength coming so easily to him. “You’ll feel better in the morning. Or worse, since you’re going to the Shadowlands.”

 

“I have to contact him first, I can’t just waltz in…” Trying to _plan_ all of that with his stress and alcohol-riddled brain is not happening, and Izumi just huffs, twisting in Arashi’s hold for a moment before flopping down, surrendering. “You’re right. I’m just…drunk. And tired. Crush me until I pass out.”

 

“That _is_ what I’m good at,” Arashi says cheerfully, and rolls on top of him, snoring within two minutes.

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

Northern winters aren’t kind to humans, but they’re even less kind to animals.

 

Most animals, at least, have some kind of built in defense for the cold. Rabbits make their burrows, bears grow their enormous pelts, lumbering, domesticated cows trot their way into their run-in sheds for the evening—but others, try as they might, aren’t exactly built for the cold, especially when winter storms roll in without warning.

 

Cats. Izumi, ten-year-old heir to the North, is worrying about cats.

 

He has every reason to, when an enormous blizzard whips its way through Sena, and outside of his bolted window comes the pathetic sounds of mewling. It takes effort to rip the window open, courtesy of the wind and cold outside creating something of a vacuum, but when he crawls his way out of it, huddled against the Sena estate with four perfect little kittens, their eyes not even open yet, is a mother cat.

 

Izumi scarcely remembers his boots before scooping them up and stuffing them into a bundle of his cloak ( _they_ need it, _he_ doesn’t). Stomping his way through the storm and already-fallen snow takes effort when he picks a pathway that isn’t mowed down by dozens of others, all in hopes of not being seen, scolded, told to get rid of the cats in question, or a mix of all three. His destination: the private stables of the Sena estate, boarded up against the wind and cold, and therefore, a perfect hiding place for kittens.

 

It takes all of his scarce weight thrown against the barn door three times over to open it against the wind, and when he finally stumbles into the stables, he exhales a sigh of relief to be out of the weather and welcomed by the familiar smell of hay and horses. It isn’t the temperature so much as it is the _wind_ , which seems to be something the mother cat agrees with, considering how she leaps from his arms, meowing, rubbing against his legs as he makes his way through the barn, contemplative. He could stash her in the loft, but what if she had to jump down and couldn’t get back up? He could maybe hide her in a horse stall, but if the horse accidentally crushed the kittens, he’d never forgive himself.

 

“Eh? Someone there?”

 

The drowsy voice is deep, in the way of vocal chords newly broken, rather than an older man’s relaxed bass, but a sign of things to come nonetheless. Rubbing his eyes, seventeen-year-old Dayton, heir to absolutely nothing, swings one-handed out of the stable’s loft, hanging by that hand for a moment before dropping to the hay-covered floor. He looks around warily for a moment, then relaxes at the sight of Izumi, giving him a deep nod. “Young Milord? Everything all right? Come to check on the Beast Runt again?”

 

“Shit,” Izumi grouses, uncaring that his foul mouth would’ve gotten him boxed in the ear by his mother in such a circumstance (even if she swears at least twenty times more). One of the kittens in his cloak mewls, which brings the other three to wake up as well, all clambering against him for warmth. “You’re out here too late. I’m busy, go back to sleep or whatever.”

 

“Foal watch,” Dayton explains, and he rests a hand on the pole nearest Izumi, nodding at the bundle. “Your mother said we were all to box your ears if we saw you out in the snow to rescue kittens again.”

 

“They were _cold_ ,” is the immediate, defensive retort, and to prove it, Izumi shoves the entire bundle into Dayton’s chest. “See? Anyway, you’re warmer than me, you get to help. Come back here, Mama Cat,” he mutters, diving to scoop up the mother cat in question, no matter how she squirms. “I’m putting them in the loft.”

 

“Not in the loft,” Dayton protests, though he doesn’t try to give back the tiny kittens mewling against his chest. “What if they fall out? What if I roll over and crush them?”

 

“Don’t,” Izumi shoots back flippantly, already on the ladder. “They’re kittens, they won’t move much once their mama finds a good place. Look at them, we can’t let them stay in the cold.”

 

“You know, plenty of cats lived to spring before you were born,” Dayton says, yawning hugely as he peeks in at Cinders, eyeing the little beads of fluid at the end of her teats. Not long now. “Why don’t I move the Runt? He can share with one of the other colts, you can have that whole stall. I’ll toss straw down.”

 

“…and you won’t let anyone else put a horse in there with them?” Izumi skeptically says, dangling from the ladder for a moment before he drops back down. “You know, calling him the Runt is why he doesn’t like you.”

 

“He doesn’t like anyone. Except you, I guess,” Dayton allows, and shrugs on a mail sleeve over his left arm, scowling at the last stall on the left. “Don’t get too attached, Milord. A runt born just before winter isn’t likely to last, no matter how mean.”

 

Izumi rolls his eyes and lets the cat leap from his arms. “He’s not _that_ small,” he says, brushing past Dayton. “I’ll do it, I’ll move him, you need to keep kittens warm. See, they stopped fidgeting once you started holding them.”

 

The stall that houses the horse in question is very deliberately the last one in the barn, and the dapple grey colt that swings his head up over the door pins his ears the second someone approaches. Unfazed, Izumi yanks open the metal latch, and grabs the colt’s leather halter before he can throw himself into the hallway at full speed. “Dunno why everyone says you’re a runt,” he grumbles, dangling a little off the ground when the animal tosses his head. “You look big enough to me. This is why he respects me,” he tells Dayton matter-of-factly.

 

Dayton watches Izumi handle the demon foal, and a strange look slowly creeps across his face. Dark hair falls in his eyes, a proud Northern nose attracts attention, and the first few hints of a beard grace his chin, but his eyes are dark and intent, and currently quite thoughtful as he watches Izumi. “You have a gift with animals, Milord Izumi. That’s for sure, no mistake.”

 

“Or maybe everyone else is just dumb,” Izumi says without batting an eye, dragging the so-called Runt down a few stalls, where another, far larger gelding stares back, nonplussed. “In you go, in you go—thanks for letting me use your house, it’s for a good cause.”

 

The colt gets the last word in, whipping his head back around to grab a mouthful of Izumi’s hair, and it takes a moment of yanking and flicking him on the nose to free it. Decidedly more slobbery now and not happy about it, Izumi scowls, throwing the latch down onto the stall door. “Gross,” he complains, picking out bits of wet hay from his ponytail. “So gross. Ugh. Don’t just stand there, now you have to help me make them a nest.”

 

Dayton laughs, nodding down at his chest. “What am I supposed to do with all of them here? I’m warning you, if they start to nurse, I’m running into the storm and staying there. Ah, I’m pretty sure cats don’t live in nests, right?”

 

Izumi stares up at him, exasperated. “That doesn’t mean they don’t _need_ a nest,” he petulantly says. “Hand them over. I don’t want them to nurse on your tits, that would be weird.”

 

“You’ve got the delicate touch they want, anyway,” Dayton assures him, and hands the kittens over, then starts tossing loose hay into the newly vacated stall, hollowing out a burrow. “That look about right? Run it by Mama there, see if she likes her new home.”

 

“C’mon, Mama Cat, c’mon,” Izumi murmurs, bundling the kittens back up into his cloak as he nudges their mother into the stall. She seems less than thrilled until he crouches down to set the kittens into their new home, and immediately leaps upon them, settling atop his cloak as well in the process. “Well…I guess they can have it, it’s not that cold out to me,” he sighs, rocking back onto his heels before he straightens. “You have to swear you won’t let anyone else put a horse in here.”

 

“I swear it on the Cold Gods,” Dayton says immediately, with all the seriousness that stray cats deserve to a couple of Northerners. “They’ll grow into big mousers like their Ma, yeah? Here, Milord.”

 

He swings up into the loft again, then comes down with his own cloak, which he swirls around Izumi’s shoulders, extra length pooling around Izumi’s feet. “I’ll be here for a long time yet, Cinders likes to keep me from sleeping.”

 

“I don’t need it,” Izumi insists, though he doesn’t take it off, mostly because it’s pleasantly soft and heavy. “It’ll just get in the way, if I have to go out to the lake. Besides, I’m not going back right now. If I stay out here all night, my mother will think I was helping you—and that’s what you’re going to tell her, isn’t it?”

 

Dayton waves a hand at Izumi, amused. “Aye, aye, as you wish, Milord. You don’t need to bully me, I would have lied for you anyway.” He pauses, then adds, trying to sound casual, “Besides, I hear that if I’m good to you, the gods will smile on me.”

 

Izumi cocks his head at that before hiking up Dayton’s cloak over one arm, making it decidedly easier to scale the ladder that leads up to the loft. “I mean, I _am_ your lord,” he says without care. “So that makes sense.”

 

“You’re my Lady’s son,” Dayton corrects gently, amused. “She hasn’t declared you heir yet, unless I miss my news.”

 

Izumi hisses at him, sounding rather like a cat himself, before the throws himself up into the loft and in a pile of Dayton’s cloak. “I’m going to be the King in the North someday, and you’ll regret that.”

 

“See, a real worthy Lord wouldn’t have to say that sort of thing,” Dayton teases. Then, before he loses his nerve, he asks, “So, is it true you’re gods-touched?”

 

“You don’t think I’m a real worthy Lord, so I’m not telling you _anything._ ”

 

“Aw, don’t be like that.” Dayton crawls back into the loft, poking one of Izumi’s feet, grinning. “I wouldn’t have to tease you if you were nice to me.”

 

Izumi growls this time, and sits up, only his head poking out from the cloak. “If you want to know stuff, you have to swear fealty. That’s how it works. My mother doesn’t tell anyone _anything_ important unless they do that.”

 

Dayton frowns at him, skeptical. “I can’t swear fealty to you. I already did to Milady. You want to make an Oathbreaker of me at seventeen?”

 

“Umm…it can be separate fealty. Yeah. That’s a thing.”

 

“Ah…separate fealty, huh?” Dayton’s grin is crooked. “Sounds like Southern nonsense. I heard the men down in the Capitol make and break promises as easy as breathing.”

 

Izumi’s lips purse. “Have you ever _been_ to the Capital?” he asks, as if he’s ever gone himself. He hasn’t. That’s irrelevant. “Whatever. I guess you must not wanna know _interesting_ things.”

 

“I want to know about you.” Dayton’s voice is open and honest, and then he thinks. “A man can’t serve two masters, but may be I could…swear you a sort of secondary oath? That wouldn’t go over my oath to your mother? Not as my lord, like. Just as my trusted friend.”

 

“…I guess that’s fine,” Izumi settles upon after a moment of mulling it over, even though he’s less than impressed about the idea of being second place (Dayton doesn’t mean it that way, he knows, but he’s still going to pout). “But I _am_ going to be lord here someday. Just so long as you remember that.”

 

“And I’ll be first in line to swear to you then, I promise that,” Dayton promises, then pulls out his short, dark-bladed sock knife, sinking the point into the fleshy mound at the base of his thumb without flinching, though his left eye twitches slightly in pain. “I swear, by the blade I bear, that I’ll never betray your trust, nor give you any reason to doubt my truth, nor find me lacking at your side in battle. So I swear, by cold iron I bear.” His mouth twitches, as the blood drips onto the hay. “Unless your mother tells me otherwise.”

 

“You were cool until you added that last part,” Izumi grumbles, watching that blood drip and worrying at his lower lip before scooting forward hesitantly. “Give me your hand.”

 

Dayton extends his hand without blinking. “It’s nothing but a scratch, Milord,” he assures Izumi. “I get worse than this walking to the outhouse in winter.” _You’re too young to have hands so cold._

 

“Hush, I’m…I’m showing you something.”

 

 _Don’t tell anyone else, don’t let anyone else see, or you’ll end up like your friend and be taken away by wizards_ —all warnings his mother had threatened him with a million times by now, but…it would be _nice_ for at least one person to know, wouldn’t it? Izumi hesitates even as he curls his fingers around Dayton’s much larger palm, almost touching the wound, but not quite. It always takes so much more effort to heal something else—he’s fixed a couple of kittens, stepped on by horses and left limping out in the cold, and felt lightheaded and dizzy afterwards for about an hour. A scratch on a human isn’t quite as complicated, but it still takes effort, and leaves his cheeks faintly flushed for his trouble as the blood from Dayton’s cut runs dry, and the wound slowly closes itself.

 

Dayton opens his mouth to make a joke, then closes it, his eyes gone wide. He opens his mouth, closes it, and finally it falls open and stays there, his eyes huge. “You—you are gods-touched,” he says, awed. “Or a god yourself.”

 

“Shh,” Izumi hisses, releasing Dayton’s hand as he sits back, shaking a little. “I’m not. I just—I can do stuff like that. You _can’t_ tell anyone. Mama says they’ll take me away, or…or do other things, I don’t know what, so you _can’t_ tell anyone.”

 

Dayton flexes his hand, awed. “I’d—Milord, you’ve got to know, even if I didn’t swear to you, I’d rather be cast out of the North than ever betray you like that. Your secret is my secret.”

 

Izumi eyes him for a moment, but then nods, pleased and convinced. “So long as you remember that. Anyway, I don’t _think_ I’m gods-touched,” he adds, matter-of-factly. “Mostly because I don’t think there are gods. Magical things, maybe, but not gods.”

 

Dayton frowns, wary. “My grandpa used to say that the gods are real, and they sometimes take on other bodies to check on us. He said that any child born in autumn, with silvered hair and a step light as cat’s feet, any child like that is half-god, at least. And your mother never said who your father was, aye?”

 

“Well…no,” Izumi admits, pulling at a curl of his hair. It’s different than every other Northerner’s, but—“I figured it must be some foreigner.” No one likes to tell him anything about his father, which suits him well enough; the last time someone did try, it was his mother’s sister, and all she wanted to do was tell him he was a bastard (as if he didn’t already know).

 

“Foreign to the mortal realm, perhaps,” Dayton says, trying and failing to keep the excitement out of his voice. “Milord, just plain foreigners, they can’t heal folk with just a touch. Hells, I’ve heard even wizards can’t do such things. Milord is gods-touched for sure.”

 

“I mean, I have to try pretty hard…” It’s a half-hearted downplay, only one brought about by Izumi’s nervousness about anyone else finding out. It’s still a relief for _someone else_ to know, and Izumi fidgets for a moment before admitting, “I’m a lot better at just—healing the things that happens to me. Doing it to other people and things, that’s hard, but…”

 

“My grandpa,” Dayton says earnestly, shifting closer to Izumi, entirely excited, “said that wizards, the ones that train at the Academy, have to say lots of complicated spells and draw pictures and slaughter animals to even light candles. Sounds a lot harder than just using flint…but you, you didn’t do that.”

 

“My mother says they’ll take me away, though,” Izumi says, brow furrowing. “Wizards will, and they’ll lock me up, if they find out about me. I dunno why, it’s not like I’m doing anything bad.”

 

“Southerners are always doing dumb stuff like that,” Dayton says, with the wisdom of all seventeen of his years. “They’d have to scream it into my mouth for those words to pass my lips.”

 

“…I still kinda want to go to the Capital, though. Mostly to prove that Northerners are just as good as the rest of them.” Izumi shrugs, glancing down. “And the best swordsmen _are_ down there, if I wanna be a knight, so…”

 

“Say it again, runt,” Dayton teases, nudging Izumi’s thigh with one foot. “You’re fast, but I’ll wager I can still knock you on your arse. Why would you want to go down there, anyway? To prove that you’re better than some poncy landed noble that wouldn’t know real work if it bit him?”

 

Izumi growls. “Call me that again and I’ll stab you in the leg,” he shoots back, undeterred. “And yeah, that’s the whole point. I overheard Mama talking with a councilman; they said they would’ve fostered me in the _palace_ if I’d been born a girl. Bullshit, I’ll just go and knock them on their asses instead.”

 

“They probably would have married you to the king,” Dayton says, with a wicked grin. “You should go down there in a dress, see if Southerners really can’t tell the difference.”

 

“Thought about it. I’m pretty enough, they probably wouldn’t even know.” Izumi wrinkles his nose. “Southerners are dumb.”

 

“Just don’t go getting soft on us. The North needs strong men, not soft southern boys that scream if they see a mouse.”

 

Izumi rolls his eyes so hard that he swears they nearly pop out of his skull. “To hell with that. I can’t be the King in the North if I’m afraid of things.”

 

~

 

Izumi, Lord of the North, still isn’t afraid of things—well, most things, for better or for worse, but Ritsu’s words do instill a sort of dread inside of him.

 

“…The hell do you mean, I can’t come to the Shadowlands?” Ritsu’s shadow-self is disturbing and wispy, with black smoke pooling out at his feet within the outpost. It’s chilly enough that even Izumi notices it—or maybe that’s part of the problem. He _shouldn’t_ be noticing it, just like he shouldn’t still have those hickeys that want to stubbornly hang on. “I won’t die. I’ve been before, half a dozen times now at least.”

 

“Not like this.” Ritsu folds his arms, looking like a piece of the night sky, carefully cut around any pesky stars. “What the hell have you been doing to yourself? Even from here I can feel your energies are all knotted and twisted, I wouldn’t trust you to ride to High Harbor, let alone the Shadowlands. You look like a snack, even to me.”

 

Izumi’s mouth falls open, and his expression is decidedly put out. “I’m not a snack!” he petulantly retorts. “I’m—I haven’t been doing anything strange! I _just_ fed last night.”

 

“Then it’s something else wrong with you,” Ritsu says bluntly. “You look…ugh. You’ve always looked like a fellow predator to me. It’s sexy. But you don’t anymore, you look like something disgustingly domestic. Prey. Arashi looks more dominant than you. Hey, he might be able to make it up here, you could send him. I dunno what to do with him, but I’m lonely, so…”

 

“He’s not going. You’ll eat him.” Izumi’s mouth twists in irritation, running through the possibilities of what to _do_. The thought that this might be somehow connected to the things his father had spoken about makes him decidedly unhappy. “Give me a day,” he finally says. “I’ll…I’ll figure it out.”

 

Ritsu shrugs. “Figure it out for yourself, but you don’t need to come up here, I’m talking to you now. What’s wrong, what do you need?”

 

“I can’t talk to you about it here. Isara told me some kind of…sensitive information. Actually, can your brother also hear things that are happening in the Shadowlands?”

 

“No one can hear anything that happens up here. That’s what makes it so nice for business deals.” Ritsu grins, the night-shape’s mouth parting. “And for secret rendezvous. Listen, I’ll meet you at the border, yeah? That way you don’t have to come into the heart of the Shade.”

 

“Appreciated.” Izumi hesitates, then shakes his head, taking a step back. “Never mind, I’ll figure it out. Sorry for looking, uh, domestic. Don’t tell Arashi he usually looks submissive next to me, though, it’ll crush him.”

 

“I dunno, last time I told him how he looked he said he wanted to look like a gentle young maiden frolicking through meadows.”

 

“You don’t get it at all,” Izumi wearily says, throwing his cloak around his shoulders again. “I’ll see you tomorrow, come hell or high water.”

 

The wind outside makes him shiver down to his toes, and he takes the winding stairs two at a time, in a hurry to be back somewhere _warm._ It’s a mistake, apparently—even he manages to lose his footing, and slips, landing hard on his arm as he tumbles a few stairs down, hearing that tell-tale crack before he really feels it.

 

“Ow,” Izumi crossly says to himself, picking himself up and shaking himself off. The pain doesn’t fade as quickly as he’s used to—in fact, it keeps throbbing, and his arm, dangling at a limp, odd angle, doesn’t…change.

 

Well, _fuck._

 

Panic wells up so quickly that he nearly loses his breath. Trembling, cradling his arm against his chest, Izumi forces himself to briskly head towards the Keep. Right, something’s wrong with him, that much is certain. If it’s in his magic, maybe Makoto will know—if not that, then maybe he just needs to feed _more_. Arashi or Makoto can both deal with that, neither of them should _complain_ —but—but if that doesn’t work— _what if I really did fuck something up because I’ve gone around unsealed for so long?_

 

The hot, distracting pain of a broken bone takes his breath away when he has to readjust himself again to heave open the Keep door. Frustrated tears prick at his eyes, and Izumi turns to kick the door shut behind himself rather than grab at it again. Fuck this. Fuck _everything_ , honestly.

 

“Milord?”

 

Dayton is on his feet in a heartbeat, hurrying to Izumi’s side when the boy—no, he corrects himself, the man, hardly even an especially young one anymore—staggers in, looking paler than usual and as if he’s about to be sick. Most of the men are absent, readying their packs and honing their blades for the long march to the West, but Dayton is done with all that, spending his last few hours staring into the fire. “Did you slip? Aye, that’s a nasty danger, in cold like this, let me help,” he says, taking the arm Izumi isn’t holding oddly, trying not to enjoy even that small bit of contact. _Don’t be too much a pervert, Dayton. He’s not yours to want._

 

Izumi’s teeth bare, ready to snap and snarl reflexively when he’s so frustrated that _anyone_ would be a target—but that stops, very abruptly, when Dayton’s touch sends an odd, tell-tale shiver down his spine. His broken arm suddenly feels numb, a sensation he’s become far more accustomed to feeling instead of _pain_ since his teenage years, and he simply lets himself be pulled for a moment, decidedly confused.

 

_Is that what you want, body? Really?_

 

“Not here,” Izumi manages, sort of awkwardly, not entirely sure what he’s asking for. “I…it’ll heal, just—um—I need to speak to you, anyway. Privately.”

 

Dayton gives him a long look, searching, looking for something, though even he isn’t sure what. Then he nods, shrugging to himself, and leads Izumi down a long hallway, to a room that’s little more than an alcove, but with thick fur curtains strung from the ceiling and tacked into place. “There weren’t really any rooms, save the Inner Keep. This enough?”

 

Izumi hesitates, sucks in a breath, and decides—well, _fuck it._

 

He drops his broken arm, ignoring the shock of pain that causes when he’s _sure_ it’ll be gone in a minute, instinct tells him it will be, and grabs at Dayton’s shirt with his good hand, yanking him down as he stretches up onto his tiptoes. It takes far too _much_ effort to reach his mouth, but Izumi manages, crushing their lips together, trying not to tremble at the sudden, abrupt _rush_ that brings, and his fingers tighten their vice-tight grip so that he’s not pushed away. “Depends,” he rasps, shaking already from the urge to climb Dayton like the veritable tree he might as well be. His nerves _hum_ , blood pounding in his temples. “How noisy are _you?_ ”

 

Dayton stands as still as a stone, the only sound his rough, ragged breathing in the low lighting. From far off, he hears a man drop his sword to the ground, then curse, but the sounds are muffled. All of Dayton’s attention is on Izumi, his rapidly rising and falling chest, his hand in Dayton’s shirt, the way his lips are pink from the cold, the chilly seriousness in his eyes. Every fiber of his body strains to lurch forward and shove Izumi against the cool stone wall, kissing him like he’s wanted to for the better part of two decades, finally claiming him like he’s wanted to for just as long, and he quivers from the effort of holding back. “Milord,” he whispers, eyes shadowed in the low light. “If this is a joke, it isn’t a bit funny.”

 

“Does it look like I’m joking?” Izumi lowly demands, his fingers trembling where they hold onto Dayton’s shirt. If anything, he must look pathetic, near tears from desperation when every nerve in his body, in his magic screams _yes yes yes finally, finally, you’ve figured out the secret, just follow through!_ His chest heaves, his lips parting as his tongue flicks out to wet them. “Don’t make me beg. I mean—yes, make me beg, but not for this _initially_ —“ He fumbles, too frazzled to be _good_ at this, and turns his gaze upward, pleading.

 

Dayton’s hands come up, one of them resting on Izumi’s hair, the other cupping his chin, forcing him up, letting Dayton look into his eyes. Then, as gently as a big man can be, he leans down, his breath quick and fluttering as he presses their lips together.

 

Izumi sags. Immediately, _immediately_ , there’s that rush, that exhilarating, all-consuming rush of energy that makes his toes curl, with the numbness that follows to his neck, to his arm, healing and soothing hurts in one fell swoop. To test it, Izumi reaches up with his other hand as well, grabbing and holding onto Dayton’s shirt when the test of moving it proves his point, and he pants against that warm mouth, surprised to find that beard is _much_ softer than imagined, especially when compared against the rough, scratchy stubble he’s used to rubbing his face against when Arashi wakes two hours late. “Please,” he begs in spite of earlier protests, his voice hitching as he loops his arms about Dayton’s neck, fisting his hands instead into the thick, dark fall of his hair.

 

_As Milord commands._

 

It would sound awesome to say something like that. Dayton doesn’t have the mental energy to spare, just grabbing Izumi by the waist, hoisting him off the ground with as much effort as he’d have taken to lift a pear, slamming him into the wall, muttering a breathless apology for moving too fast, too rough, always too fast and rough, this is why Izumi prefers his perfumed Southern lords, Dayton, you ass—

 

“You’re too easy to want,” he rumbles deep in his chest, and turns his head to press kiss after kiss to Izumi’s neck, one hand stealing down to squeeze the ass he’s stared at for years uncounted, a blunt oath falling from his lips against Izumi’s skin.

 

Izumi just groans, low and throaty and _needy_ , his nails raking down against Dayton’s broad shoulders in open approval as his legs clamp around his waist. His head falls back, welcoming that warm mouth on his neck, his mouth parting as he sucks in a sharp, rapid breath to try and calm himself. That’s easier said than done when Dayton grabs and squeezes him, tossing him around like he weighs nothing at all, and his toes curl within his boots. “Sorry,” he only half-heartedly apologizes on a gasp, biting his lip to stop another noise from escaping his throat when he arches, already achingly hard and unable to stop himself from rubbing against Dayton like a damned teenager. “You should—ahh—j-just do what you’ve been wanting to do, t-then—“

 

“Can’t do that,” Dayton growls, forcing himself to be gentle, to go slow, because Izumi is his lord, a fancy Southerner now, doesn’t want to be bruised and tossed about like a bale of hay or a hardy Northern lightshirt. He lets his teeth rasp against Izumi’s skin, and groans, feeling himself swell and heat in his trousers. “You wouldn’t walk out of here, if I did.”

 

The idea makes Izumi jerk, whimpering as he claws at Dayton’s back. His cock twitches between his legs, dripping already, and the friction even with fabric between them is enough to make his eyes cross. “That’s the point, isn’t it,” he groans, surging forward to set his teeth to Dayton’s shoulder, his breath escaping as hot, ragged puffs in the cool air. He frees a hand, stuffing it between them to grab for Dayton’s cock—and stills, his breath escaping fast, his legs nearly turning to jelly. “Oh,” he whispers, suddenly grateful he’s being held up. Otherwise, he’d be on the floor. On his knees, specifically.

 

Dayton’s face flushes to a deep ruddy hue, and he pulls back slightly, though not letting Izumi’s feet touch the ground. “Too much for you?” he teases gently, and his cock gives a hard twitch against Izumi’s palm, even through the thick wool of his trousers. “I don’t mind taking turns, Milord.”

 

The stare that Izumi turns up to him is glazed, his eyes dilated as he hooks his fingers into Dayton’s laces. “You’re going to put that in me. Now.”

 

It’s been years since Dayton’s seen a look that hungry, especially for him, and he feels his body burn with the wanting. He turns them, half-tossing Izumi into the thin stack of furs in one corner, what’s been serving as his bed for the past few weeks, then following him down, turning Izumi over and easing his trousers down over the sweet curve of his ass. “My sweet lord,” he whispers, licking his lips. “Any part you don’t want me to taste, name it now.”

 

Izumi curses, the sound muffled into furs as he presses his face there to pant for a moment, overheated, overstimulated. His cock drips between his legs, and the thought to reach down and touch himself to ease some of that comes to mind—but no, not yet, if he does he’s done for, and he’d _like_ that to be entirely Dayton’s doing. “I told you, do whatever you want,” he groans, shoving his own shirt up to get at his nipples instead, stifling a gasp when just thumbing over one of them sends a shock straight to his cock. “S-so long as you fuck me. I’m not some prissy Southerner, damn it.”

 

_And the ones you brought with you, seems like, can’t fuck you like you want it._

 

It isn’t a worthy thought, but it does make Dayton growl, his body covering Izumi’s as he runs his hands up and down, grabbing and squeezing at any lovely, pale skin he can find. His mouth follows his hands, nipping and kissing, sometimes softly, sometimes as roughly as he dares, at neck and shoulder and waist, big hands spreading Izumi’s thighs wide as he takes his first look at Izumi’s tight pink hole, just before his mouth dips down there too, licking with a slow, approving growl, his beard pressed to soft skin.

 

Izumi arches with a gasp, his eyes rolling back as he fights back the initial reaction to squirm away, that shock of pleasure making every muscle in his body tense and twitch. His fingers bunch down into the makeshift bedding, his breath hot as he pants heavily, a needy, throaty whine escaping as he rocks back in spite of himself, shuddering at that warm, slick drag of tongue and the added, unexpected rasp of Dayton’s beard against his skin. “Gods,” he moans, face so hot it hurts, with a pinch of one of his nipples nearly sending him over the edge as his cock gives a desperate throb. “I…fuck, _fuck_ …”

 

“Aye,” Dayton rumbles against soft skin as his hands dig in to Izumi’s hips, yanking them back, not letting him get away. “All night, until you stop me, Milord.”

 

His hands roam as his tongue quests, dragging up under Izumi’s shirt, toying with one of those pert nipples, sliding down that taut lean stomach to wrap around his leaking cock, stroking firmly with a calloused hand from root to tip, no shy gentleness in the touch, only the hard hunger of a man who wants other men, wants to chase their pleasure and have his own need sated.

 

One more touch is all it takes. Izumi bites into the back of his own hand to muffle his shriek when he comes, spilling in long, pulsing throbs over Dayton’s fingers, over his own shirt, onto the furs underneath him. It does little to make him soft, to make him any less riled and trembling, his clothes sticking to his skin from a fine sheen of sweat as he groans, low and pleased. “D-don’t say that…unless you mean it,” he manages to whisper, twitching with every brush of fingers, every slide of that tongue. “Ahh…fuck, I can die now, that’d be fine…”

 

“Die?”

 

Dayton grins, trailing kisses up Izumi’s back, until he rests on the back of his neck, beard gently tickling. “How’m I supposed to have you all night, Milord,” he asks softly, shifting to let Izumi feel the long, thick shaft of him against the back of one thigh, pressing hot to the skin, “if you die on me now?”

 

Izumi whimpers, uncaring about how needy the sound is. He _is_ needy, and horny, and desperate, damn it, especially when feeling the hard, heavy press of Dayton’s cock makes his chest heave. “At least I’d die happy,” he dazedly says, shifting to rest his weight on his elbows, arching back to rub against Dayton’s cock with a throaty groan. “Fuck. I _knew_ it was big.”

 

 _You could have had it any time in the last decade,_ Dayton wants to say, but that’s unworthy of him, unworthy of this beautiful moment when this ephemeral dream is _finally_ coming true, even if for just this one night. “This isn’t the palace,” he murmurs, tongue catching the shell of Izumi’s ear. “I haven’t got fancy oils for Milord’s tight hole.”

 

Izumi shudders down to his toes, and claws a hand helplessly into the furs underneath them. “Don’t make me come again before it’s _in me_ ,” he huffily ‘complains’, fumbling for wherever his belt was thrown to, and gives up half-way. “I _have_ oil—somewhere—or I’ll just suck it first, whatever you want—“

 

Dayton’s laugh is strained, and he wraps one arm around Izumi’s waist, hauling him back into a better position. “Have mercy,” he breathes, and spits on his fingers, working two thick, calloused digits into that already-slick hole. “I don’t think my heart could stand the sight of it. Think you can handle it, the way men of the North do it? Or are you too elegant for that now?”

 

Protests die on Izumi’s lips, the sensation of being _filled_ by those thick fingers taking his breath away in short order. It’s not slick enough, but his cock doesn’t seem to mind, staying achingly hard even as he clenches down, tense and trembling. “F-fuck you, it’s—it’s not like I don’t do it this way often enooough…” Izumi trails off, kneading his fingers into the furs with a hot breath escaping his lips. “You…you don’t…” He swallows noisily, face hot. “You don’t have to be careful with me.”

 

“I’ve teased boys for not being able to sit down the next day,” Dayton rumbles, spitting again, enough to work his fingers in the whole way, twisting and curling and spreading them, working Izumi open without pity, not gentle, though hardly rough, only thorough. “But I’ve never hurt one, so I can promise you’ll walk out of here well enough, Milord. When I decide to get off of you.”

 

“But I _want_ you to fuck me—until I can’t _walk_ —“ Izumi dissolves with a shudder, sweat beading onto the back of his neck, making his hair stick to his skin as he rocks back against those fingers, squeezing down as his knees spread further apart. “You haven’t even..ahh…pulled…pulled my hair, and you call _me_ prissy—“

 

“I haven’t yet done a lot of the things I’m going to do to your lovely body,” Dayton says, a slow grin spreading across his face as he pulls his fingers out. “There, now. Spread your legs, stick your arse back at me, and bear down, aye?”

 

So help him, he doesn’t _hate_ being bossed around in bed—the opposite, for better or for worse, but it’s _been_ awhile. Arashi is one thing, but that’s less bossing, more just fucking him and talking in his ear the exact way he likes. Ritsu comes close, but…it’s still not _this_. Izumi huffs, tossing his head back as he shifts his weight back onto his knees, panting as he feels the head of that hard, fat cock rubbing against his hole. “Gods,” he groans, his eyes rolling back into his head as his thighs threaten to give in with a hard tremor. “You—you’ve gotta help, I’m too riled up, I can’t—“

 

“You can,” Dayton says, absolute certainty in his voice as he spreads Izumi’s legs even wider, rubbing the head of his cock over that slick hole. He takes a deep breath, steadying his own nerves, then shoves in, working that thick head into a hole that feels far too tight, not that that stops Dayton from rocking his hips in more, more, _harder_ when it tries for a second not to yield to him, pushing in past that resistance with a sigh. “Look, you’re doing it now, good lad.”

 

Izumi dissolves, flopping forward with a low, rumbling noise, burying his face down into his own arm as his chest heaves for a full breath. Easier said than done, when he’s _so_ stuffed full that it reminds him of being caught between _two_ men. “D…nh…hhnn…don’t…stop,” he moans, feeling himself drooling, his cheeks flushed hot as his hips twitch back own their own, no matter how that tense, achy stress isn’t getting any easier. That just makes his cock harder, a dazed, shivery little twitch down his spine reminding him how close he is to coming again already.

 

Dayton snorts to himself, trying to make verbal sense of his feelings when every inch he manages to shove in is squeezed so tightly, so sweetly that it steals his breath. He spits on his hand, slicking the rest of his length, just in time to work that in as well. “Hold on tight, now,” he whispers, then shoves in hard the rest of the way, bottoming out with a soft slap of skin against skin and a deep groan in his chest as pleasure boils in his belly. He loses control a bit, teeth set together as he thrusts in hard, one hand pinning Izumi’s shoulders down hard to the floor, the noises coming from him more animal than man.

 

The noise that escapes Izumi’s throat is a wet, garbled mewl more than anything else, tripping over words, over encouragements when all he can think about is how full he is. Dayton’s cock is huge—no amount of squirming or shifting or trying to _breathe_ changes that, and so Izumi gives up. The moment he does, the moment he just sags and lets himself be shoved harder into the furs with that first, thorough thrust, he comes again, an orgasm that leaves him shaking and panting open-mouthed. “ _Yes_ ,” he manages to groan, a bead of sweat trailing down his back, and he clenches down as he bites into his lower lip, drawing blood. “Fuck, _fuck_ yes…”

 

“That’s it,” Dayton groans, fingertips digging into Izumi’s shoulder as he fucks in harder, working Izumi up inside, dragging his body towards pleasure, almost brutal in his ministrations, ignoring the way Izumi goes limp and pliant under him. If Izumi wants out, he’ll make it known. In the meantime, Dayton uses that sweet, lithe body for his own pleasure, the way he’s always wanted to, grabbing Izumi in both arms, holding his body close as his hips slam in, demanding, rough, from one thrust to the next. “Good lad, don’t worry, you don’t need to walk out of here for a while yet…”

 

Izumi’s back arches as he ruts back, the tremors of his orgasm making it easier to relax, to ride back onto that thick cock no matter how his thighs ache. “T-that’s… _so_ good, fuck…” he moans, his head rolling back as he just lets himself be fucked, biting back a yelp when Dayton’s cock strikes so deeply, so perfectly inside him that his entire body jerks and spasms. His hands paw down, grabbing at Dayton’s arms, clinging to him. “You—nhh…h-have the _best_ cock, bite me again, pleeease…”

 

“One thing you’ll learn, about going to bed with me,” Dayton says into Izumi’s ear, hips snapping in hard as his teeth sink in deep, deep enough to leave a visible indent, “is that I’ll give you…all you want,” he pants, feeling his control starting to fray at the edges, his thrusts getting harder, more bestial, his mind starting to go as he bites again. “And _more_.”

 

 _Thank the gods_ , Izumi dazedly thinks, voice gone when he’s fucked hard enough that he can’t _breathe_ , that huge cock spreading him open with each powerful thrust and leaving him as little more than a doll in Dayton’s arms. Panting open-mouthed and whining whenever Dayton’s teeth sink into his skin again, Izumi scrabbles for any sort of purchase, then gives up, letting Dayton shove and pull him wherever he likes, sliding an hand mindlessly down to his own flat, tense abdomen where he’s _entirely_ convinced he can feel each of those hard thrusts inside of him.

 

It seems like a lifetime before that pleasure builds to a fever-pitch in Dayton’s belly, and he struggles against it when it does, teeth gritted as he tries to still himself, tries to slow down, tries to make it last longer, this most beautiful moment of his life, but he can’t, not when Izumi is so perfect beneath him— _always been perfect, always been what I wanted, always so beautiful, always so strong_ —he can’t last. With a frustrated, trembling groan, he sinks his teeth in so far he can taste a drop of blood, spilling deep inside Izumi with a series of ragged, sharp thrusts, fucking his release in deep. “Gods,” he pants, feeling his hands tremble as he sets them on the floor around Izumi, head thunking down onto Izumi’s upper back. “You’re…even better…than I dreamed…”

 

Izumi manages a hoarse, gurgling little noise, making absolutely no attempt to move even though he’s certain the only think still keeping any part of him up at _all_ is Dayton’s dick in him. He shifts, knees wobbling as he regrets that, but relishes it all the same, hissing out a breath through his teeth at how he feels even fuller now, slick and sticky and overheated from the inside out. “Why,” he eventually manages, voice muffled where he has his face buried down into his arms, “didn’t you tell me…you fucked like _that?_ ”

 

Dayton smiles, gently maneuvering them to lie with his chest to Izumi’s back, him curled around Izumi’s far smaller form. “You never seemed interested,” he says frankly. “I’m not so hard up I’ll go after those that push me away, you know. Your mother’s meddling notwithstanding.”

 

“You should’ve put my hand on your dick,” Izumi dazedly says, trying not to twitch and shiver too much just because he’s being _touched_ , and failing. He sighs, wriggling a little, and unable to help himself, tilts his head back to bury his face into Dayton’s beard. “I like pushy men.”

 

“You’ve only ever chased after fey, beardless lads that look like ladies,” Dayton points out, a shadow of a grin on his face, and he rubs his face down, letting his beard drag gently over Izumi’s face. “What finally made you look my way?”

 

“A very…deep-seated craving?” Izumi settles upon after a moment’s contemplation, shivering distractedly. He grabs at one of Dayton’s hands, pulling it up to his nipples. “How dare you, assuming what your lord likes.”

 

Dayton twitches his hips, making his cock flex inside Izumi. “I think I can see full well what my lord likes,” he rumbles, amused as he tweaks that nipple on command. _Do I get you for more than just tonight?_ The question burns in his throat, but he’s swallowed worse, though they don’t go down easy. Instead, he presses a kiss to the top of Izumi’s head, and murmurs, “You’re as much of a brat now as when you were bossing me around as a kid, _Milord_.”

 

Izumi just groans, his head lolling back into Dayton’s chest as his fingers tighten around Dayton’s wrist, making sure he doesn’t pull his hand away. “You must like it, or you wouldn’t be here,” he breathes, his eyes fluttering. “Ahh..fuck, feels a lot slicker in there now, that’s better…” How unfortunate that he can already feel that every bite mark has disappeared; it’s bittersweet, of course, because he _wants_ those damned things to stick around, but…still. It’s a relief to know it’s all healing correctly again. “Don’t be angry with me,” he murmurs, giving Dayton’s hand a squeeze. “But I really _was_ craving this. In…in a way you’d probably think is strange.”

 

“Is there a way to crave a man that isn’t strange?” Dayton says with a laugh, flexing his hips again. “If we were normal, we’d be in women’s beds, wouldn’t we?”

 

Izumi hisses out a breath through his teeth, his nails scraping against the back of Dayton’s hand as he tries to get enough leverage to wriggle _down_. “T-that’s…not quite what I mean,” he gasps. “You, specifically—I—nhh…fuck it, maybe your dick is magic.”

 

“Oh, sure,” Dayton assures him. He curls an arm around Izumi’s belly, carefully easing him even closer, not allowing him space to get away. “If I had a silver Noble for every time a boy’s told me that, aye?”

 

“Noooo, I mean it,” Izumi bemoans, slapping half-heartedly at Dayton’s arm even as he clenches down involuntarily and drags out a gasp from his parted lips, tongue running over the tips of fangs that want to peek out. “Like—actually magic—or something…ah…I h-haven’t been able to really feed…in weeks, but then you touched me and I just…”

 

“You’re hungry?” Dayton’s voice drops an octave, so low his chest vibrates against Izumi’s back, as he says, “I haven’t even let you feast on it yet, Milord.”

 

Izumi shudders, a full-body thing that leaves his toes curling back against Dayton’s shins. “I wonder…if that _actually_ fills me up faster…?” he absently murmurs, not really expecting an answer. “You know…Arashi’s a delight, truly, but I’ve typically got a choice of having it in my mouth _or_ my ass—once every couple of days. If I’m _lucky_. Seems like you’re a bit hardier.”

 

“The North grows ‘em hardy,” Dayton says, thrusting slowly, eyes closing in utter bliss as he sheathes himself in Izumi’s body, slowly at first, just rocking gently, burying himself. “You should know that—ah, but you don’t ever give us a chance, Milord. Just because we like our faces protected from the winds? Or are we too _big_ for you?” He punctuates the word with a quick jerk of his hips.

 

Izumi’s breath hiccups, his nails clawing into Dayton’s arm. “The size—ahh—is…not…the problem,” he pants, trying to dig his feet in for purchase to better writhe back. His body doesn’t even complain in the slightest—no soreness, no ache other than the one between his legs, cock as eager as it was before without the desperation this time, thank the gods—and that just makes him squeeze down, hissing out a breath through his teeth at how slick it feels now. “I just—fuck…gods, it’s not even the _hair_ , I’m just being contrary, fuck.”

 

“And here I thought it was not enough perfume,” Dayton says, amused, stealing his hand down to stroke Izumi’s cock, leisurely, not bothering to rush, just enjoying his lovely body. “Or maybe down there they pluck and shave their arses as well as their faces, hmm? We’ve all wondered what makes them…so lovely…ahh, that’s nice, squeeze like that again—that they tempted the King in the North away.”

 

“You’re a shitty brat yourself once you’ve got your dick in someone, huh?” Izumi huffs, but he obliges, squeezing down slowly, his breath hitching when it makes a tense little shiver travel all the way down his spine. He shifts, wincing, gasping when a tension-born cramp travels up one calf, and he swats at Dayton weakly. “I can’t move on it like this, let me sit in your lap,” he breathlessly insists. “And you know that your King in the North shaves his legs, you can literally feel them right now, so don’t tease _me_ about liking men that do the same.”

 

“Thought you just didn’t grow hair there,” Dayton says honestly, with a grin as he sits up, hands on Izumi’s waist. “Facing me, or facing away?”

 

“Fuck, it’s big,” Izumi exhales when gravity makes him sink down, taking his breath away temporarily. Cheeks flushed, he shrugs helplessly, flopping back against Dayton’s chest. “Facing you, I think? Fuck you, I _wish_ I didn’t grow hair there, but the knife it is. I don’t get it on my face, at least…”

 

Dayton arranges Izumi’s limbs, helping him settle in as comfortably as possible, when that thick cock is still achingly hard inside of him. “You got rid of those bites already, hmm? How’s it work inside? Does it still ache like the first time when I ride into you? Like this? Or can you, ah, control it?”

 

Izumi pants for breath for a moment, readjusting over Dayton’s lap when even just straddling him makes his thighs burn. He shakes his head, not really answering, just sort of mindlessly basking in how full he feels for the time being, and how just languidly rocking down makes his muscles tense and _twinge._ “It, ah…it feels…pretty much like the first time, yeah,” he admits, slender fingers splaying themselves over Dayton’s shoulders. “Takes a lot to control it, and I don’t wanna, not right now…”

 

Dayton grins, letting his beard rake down over Izumi’s neck. “Most boys wouldn’t want to feel like a virgin during this, mm? But maybe you’re hardier than them…how does it feel to know you’re in a real Northerner’s bed, at last? With hair and muscles and all?”

 

“Like I’m going to _eat him_ if he calls me a boy _one more time._ ”

 

Izumi lunges, nails raking down Dayton’s chest as he shoves him back, lips parting for the ragged, panting breath that escapes as he rides back, grinding down onto that huge, hard cock and letting his tongue drag over the tips of his fangs, shivering at the pinprick’s worth of blood that he draws from himself. “You’re not the first Northerner I’ve fucked, you know,” he breathes, raking his sweaty hair back from his face as he leans down, eyes slitting in the low light. “Just the biggest.”

 

Dayton’s eyes alight, and his grin is something feral, wild and hungry as he yanks Izumi up, down, _down_ , finding them a rhythm that depends entirely on the strength of his arms. “I’ll be the biggest for a while yet,” he says, panting as they rock together. “And maybe I wouldn’t mind being eaten, mm?”

 

“Don’t— _say that_ ,” Izumi groans, his hands fumbling to close over Dayton’s, finding it easier to brace there and partially onto his knees to better compliment that rhythm and fuck himself on Dayton’s cock. At any other time, he might be a _bit_ embarrassed about how much he enjoys having big hands on him, moving him around like he’s little more than a toy, but now is _not_ the time to give a damn. He arches his back, sucking in a sharp breath when that particular angle makes him twitch and clench down, squeezing tight around Dayton’s cock. “Don’t you know what happens…if you invite demons?” he rasps, his voice low and throaty.

 

For the moment, the look on Dayton’s face would be more at home on a wolf, or some great furred predator of the glaciers. His hands tighten, and he shifts, getting up onto his knees, letting him rock with Izumi, biting at his shoulder again. “Maybe it’s the same…as inviting gods, mm?”

 

Izumi growls, deep and rumbling, the last warning he gives before lunging, simply unable to help himself when he’s been truly _encouraged._

 

It’s rare that he feels the _need_ to feed like this, with his fangs sinking into flesh and tasting blood as much as the lust and need that pumps through it—it scares people, scares himself, but right now, sating every single _bit_ of hunger is all he can think about.

 

He can hear the thud of Dayton’s pulse underneath his tongue, feel the slick, aching slide of that cock making him shudder, feel the squeeze of those huge hands around his waist, and Izumi breaks away only when he remembers that he needs to breathe, panting wetly as he hooks his chin over Dayton’s shoulder, tongue running over his reddened lower lip.

 

Briefly, Dayton considers murdering every stupid, conceited Southern Lord that has ever wasted such a perfect, beautiful opportunity, that has ever had something _like this_ in their lap and left him looking so unhappy, so unsatisfied, that he’d been forced to run back to Dayton, run back to the North and beg for magic cock.

 

The startled shock of feeling Izumi sink teeth into him and _feed_ like he truly is a demon is surprising, but it also sets his blood on fire, makes him want to have Izumi on his back in the snow, for some reason, both of them rutting mindlessly, surrounded by ice. “You deserve,” he groans, face buried in Izumi’s shoulder, feeling ice burn through his veins as he thrusts up hard, harder, as hard as he ever has, “to be fucked, exactly like this, as hard and often as you want, _whenever_ you want, you hear? Take what you want, Milord, it’s all for you.”

 

Izumi clings to Dayton’s neck, breath escaping through hard heaves of his chest as he tries to let that euphoric sensation of being so perfectly full, so perfectly _fucked_ linger, and fails. The scent of sweat and sex, the scrape of Dayton’s beard against his skin, the squeeze of those calloused hands, the aching _throb_ of that cock inside—it’s a perfect storm that tips him over the edge with the next trembling writhe of his own hips down, and he comes again, muffling a breathy, wordless whine into Dayton’s neck.

 

“How many is that?”

 

Dayton’s voice is kind, gentle, and he lets Izumi come to a rest on his still-hard cock, brushing sweat-damp hair out of his face. “You holding on all right?” he asks, eyes searching.

 

“A…a few,” Izumi breathes once he manages to form words again. “Three? Four? Something…like that.” He butts his head mindlessly into Dayton’s hand, rubbing his flushed cheek against that calloused palm. “This is the best sex I’ve had outside of a foursome I had when I was a teenager,” he blissfully admits. “Don’t you dare stop, I’ll probably come again when _you_ come…”

 

“Foursome?” Dayton’s eyebrows raise, and he starts bouncing Izumi on his cock, mindlessly now, just seeking his own pleasure. His breath quickens, and he feels himself starting to drip, his cock close to giving up, though most of him wants to _keep going_ , the traitorous organ. “Nnh, and here—we thought—soft Southern Lords—wouldn’t know how to have a fun orgy—with all their perfumed silk sheets, heh—“

 

“I’ve taught them—a few things, t-trust me,” Izumi gasps, nails biting into Dayton’s shoulders as he just hangs on for the ride this time. His body _aches_ —at least, for the moment, but maybe that’s just overstimulation starting to get the better of him after so long—and he swears he can feel the drip of Dayton’s cock inside of him. The realization he’s going to be even fuller soon makes him groan, dropping his face down into Dayton’s neck again. “I-it was up here, actually,” he breathes, voice hoarse. “One of the first times—nhh—I’d been home in years—and it took two of them in me at once to…to feel like this…”

 

“Took two of them to satisfy, you mean.” The thought is good, makes Dayton’s breath catch, and he slams his hips up to meet Izumi’s ass, breath coming fast, hands squeezing, slamming into him with every quick gasp. “Imagine what—nnh, you’re so _tight_ —imagine what it’d—feel like, if you had—two real _Northern_ men at the same—“

 

That thought is too much, and Dayton finally truly loses himself, mind awash in sensory madness, setting him on fire as he spills deep inside Izumi’s lithe, eager body.

 

Izumi whimpers, biting into his own lip when his body reflexively squeezes down, milking Dayton’s cock as he squirms down, making _sure_ it stays fully inside of him. He’s slick enough inside that it’s easy to rock down like that, breath hiccuping when it feels like Dayton’s in his damned throat, courtesy of the angle. His own cock gives a little twitch, but more important is the full-body shiver, the spasming, achy feeling of an orgasm that makes him tense down to his toes. “…I’m considering it,” he breathes, eyes unfocused as he flops his head against Dayton’s shoulder. “It took _three_ to do it right and one of them wasn’t even human…ahh, why d’you think Southern Lords have perfumed silk sheets, silk is scraaatchy…”

 

“Is it?” Dayton asks, dazed. His eyelids feel heavy, but his hands move, sweetly trailing up and down Izumi’s back, petting him softly. “Never touched the stuff, that I can recall. I heard it was expensive, though. What do they have, if not silk?”

 

“I dunno, something soft. I’m not on _my_ back in them as much as I’d like to be, believe it or not.” Izumi pauses, basking in being petted even though he’s a sweaty, sticky mess. “Am I the type of man you like? Or am I the exception?”

 

Dayton shrugs a little, and presses a kiss to Izumi’s temple. “Don’t know that I bother with the luxury of having a type. There aren’t really enough to choose from up here, certainly not any others that look like you.”

 

Izumi slowly reaches up and grabs Dayton’s face in shaky hands, giving it a little squeeze…and then sort of giving into the urge to pet his beard. Hmm. “Why do you think I went to the Capital? The men are beautiful _and_ desperate, which means they _always want it._ ”

 

Dayton submits to having his beard petted with good grace, wiggling his chin slightly. “I heard they hate men that exercise natural feelings with other men down there. I heard that from _you_ , didn’t I? Doesn’t seem worth it.”

 

“I mean…” Izumi hedges, grimacing a little to himself about that. “Mm. You’re not _wrong_. But consider they’re beautiful. You’re like a bratty schoolboy, you know, always picking on my lovers just because you think they’re lovely, too. Besides, Arashi isn’t even a Southerner, neither is Makoto, and you’ve ever even laid _eyes_ on the King. This is so much softer than I remember them being, huh.”

 

“You should touch it more often,” Dayton assures him. “I didn’t even have time to look after it today, didn’t know it was going to get attention.” He hesitates, then gives Izumi a quick kiss on the lips, looking into his eyes. “I don’t like them,” he says softly. “I pick on them because you deserve to be treated like a king, and I won’t apologize for thinking it should be one of us. You belong up here, not down there with them. Your body knows, doesn’t it? Nay, don’t yell at me now, I’m enjoying having you here, yell at me later, aye?”

 

Izumi’s mouth purses, the tell-tale pout all the more pronounced when his lips are kiss-swollen and red. “You’re too hard on them,” he finally, quietly says, shifting with a grimace when his body swiftly reminds him he’s still on Dayton’s dick, and, mm, _he’s_ used to men pulling out before _he’s_ sick of it. “At least, on Arashi. Ugh.” He gives up, flopping directly into Dayton’s chest. “Damn you, I swear your dick is actually magic, I feel _normal_ for the first time in forever…”

 

The too-serious mood lightens, and Dayton rumbles a quiet laugh. “You’re the one who was complaining about not being properly served,” he teases, shifting into a more comfortable sitting position, only wincing slightly when that jostles him a bit. “Well, it wouldn’t do for me to withhold my magic cock from my lord, would it? I suppose I shall have to be at your service.”

 

“There’s a legend that says _all_ Northerners are descended from the gods,” Izumi muses, vaguely irritated over his urge to rub his face down into Dayton’s chest hair. “Maybe that’s why you’re so good. I _literally_ craved it—this, specifically, and also for you to throw me in the snow and fuck me stupid. Magic is odd, you know that?”

 

Dayton blinks slowly. “Huh. Maybe it is magic. I was thinking of having you in the snow, as well. And I’ll tell you, I’ve never once craved a cold wet arse in the middle of sex.”

 

“Speak for yourself. I’ve _always_ wanted to fuck in the snow, but no one’s ballsy enough to join me.”

 

“…Damn. I’m going to get a cold wet arse, aren’t I?”

 

“If I’m on my back, unlikely, and because we’re doing this _my_ way, I’m going to be on my back.” Izumi pauses. “But not right now. Right now, I am warm and sweaty and stuck to you, a little.”

 

“More than a little,” Dayton agrees. “I’d suggest hot springs, but beard burn stings, right after.”

 

“Doubtful. I don’t even have a bite on me, try harder.”

 

“All right. You want to get off my magic cock and go to the hot springs, then?”

 

“…Yeees,” Izumi hedges, his fingers idly kneading into Dayton’s shoulders, “but my legs feel like jelly, so you get to help.”

 

“Anything for Milord.”


	11. Chapter 11

 

The good thing about having a resonant bond, as far as Shu understands, is that one is never truly lonely.

 

That hadn’t been much comfort to him in the six years he’d been separated from Rei, locked up with Mika, sitting alone in a tower, feeling as if the long days would never come to an end. They’d been afraid to use the bond in those days, fearful that such a thing would bring Eichi’s wrath back on him.

 

But they’d won. They’d won, and they were free.

 

And he was sitting in a tower alone, as his bond was tamped down from the other end, so Rei could have his fill of other men.

 

This was the price, he was sure, looking down at Mika’s folded hands. This was the price of the happy years, finally come due. This was the price of the ecstasy of having a full and open bond with the most powerful wizard alive and still wanting this sad little bird of a wizard, of having everything and never being satisfied.

 

 _It wasn’t worth it,_ he decides, though the decision changes nothing, and he reaches out to gently stroke Mika’s still hand. _Rather a thousand times we were still locked up, working with the army, and my lord…_

 

_He’s hardly mine, even now._

 

Then comes a brisk knock upon Shu’s door.

 

Unsurprisingly, Mika doesn’t stir, even when the door cracks open without waiting for permission to enter. In pokes a head of yellow hair, obviously checking to make sure Shu is even present before stepping the rest of the way inside. “Itsuki,” the Master of Coin greets casually— _too_ casually, especially for the irritable tension that usually permeates every inch of him when he’s around Shu, for better or for worse. “Good, you’re still sulking about.”

 

Shu’s heart gives a bruised, startled lurch in his chest, feeling as though all the old hurts of where it’s been flopping against his ribs for decades. _I should stop falling in love. Those are my three worst decisions of my lifetime, leaving me without a place, without a friend, without part of my soul._ “Nazuna,” he says formally, laying his hands on his knees. “You look absolutely perfect today.” Maybe not so formally, but he’s bad at this.

 

The door clicks shut, and Nazuna leans back against it, arms folded across his chest. “Is that how you greet everyone?” he asks, eyebrows raised. “Ahh, something like this is almost too easy…why are you _like_ that, huh?”

 

Shu flushes bright pink to the tips of his ears, looking away. “Get out of here before I say something that will make you cry,” he snaps. “I’m not feeling well enough to see your crying face right now.”

 

“What do you think will make _me_ cry?” Nazuna asks curiously, pushing away from the door to walk closer. “I’m pretty sure it’s you that’s the crybaby. Ah, is he _still_ asleep like this?” he asks, sounding almost sympathetic as he reaches out to touch a strand of Mika’s hair.

 

“Don’t touch him!” Shu reacts on instinct as much as anything, reaching out to slap Nazuna’s hand away from Mika’s still form. “You don’t even know him. He doesn’t need your pity, even if your hands are very soft.”

 

Nazuna pauses, and slowly turns his gaze up to Shu, contemplative. “Did anyone ever tell you how embarrassing that sort of thing is?” he idly asks, reaching up to lay those apparently soft fingers to Shu’s cheek instead. “I guess they wouldn’t’ve—Kuro’s never been too good about scolding you.”

 

Shu’s heart stutters, and a startled, horrified noise comes out of his mouth. “You—you can’t say things like that,” he splutters, jerking away. He looks Nazuna up and down, uncomprehending (then looks him up and down once more, for old time’s sake). “What do you want, why are you here?”

 

“I can say whatever I want.” Nazuna’s head cocks, and he steps closer again, deliberately grabbing a handful of Shu’s cloak to keep him from fluttering away. “What do you _think_ I want? You came to the Capital, you’re _constantly_ near me…”

 

Shu blindly, automatically reaches for the comfort of Rei in his mind, and finds himself shut out. Of course, Rei is enjoying someone else’s company, and his mind is blaringly empty, loud in its silence. Shu’s breath comes quick, and he looks away, hands trembling. “If you have something to say, find your courage and say it,” he says, trying to stiffen his backbone, clinging desperately to his own strength. “Let go of me, the fabric is special—“

 

“I know—you made it, didn’t you?”

 

Nazuna heaves a sigh, stepping abruptly close, his body pressed almost entirely against Shu’s. He comes up to the middle of Shu’s chest, maybe, but it makes him no less imposing. “I’m bored, you know,” he murmurs. “It’s hard not to be, with someone like Kuro—oh, did he forget to tell you about us? That’s rude of him, shutting you out. Well, it doesn’t matter. I’ve come to my senses, just like you wanted me to years ago.”

 

Shu’s breath stops completely. His mind races—Nazuna and Kuro? “He wouldn’t, he—“ Nazuna and him? “No, I couldn’t, I—“ Rei ( _he doesn’t care, he thinks you’re too much work just like you always knew he would_ ) “We—“ _We_? After all this time?

 

Nazuna pouts. “You don’t want me? But…you’re so lonely here, aren’t you? I thought maybewe could…”

 

“We could _what_?”

 

Shu means to yell the words, but they come out a shaken whisper, his face pale as ash. “What, _now_?” he demands, finding his voice. “You—you want that _now_? After years of being a cold-hearted traitor?”

 

“If you really thought that about me, would you keep looking at me like that?”

 

Nazuna heaves a long sigh, tilting his head back. “You should really be _grateful._ Rei’s left you all alone. Mika’s left you all alone. Izumi, too, and _everyone_ knows you want him. You should be happy someone wants _you_ at all.”

 

“Get out.”

 

Shu’s voice is cold, and not a little broken, though the fire that blazes violet in his eyes puts the lie to that. “If you think that something _physical_ was ever what I wanted—get out of here, I can’t even stand to look at you, debasing yourself like this.” Every cell in his body screams at him to grab at what’s being offered, since it will never, never be offered again (so alone, Mika gone, Rei gone, Izumi gone, none of them _ever_ really his own).

 

“You’re being so mean. You think I just want something physical?” Nazuna’s pout intensifies, and he grabs suddenly at Shu’s collar, yanking him down with a grip that is _far_ too strong for his form. “Wrong,” he breathes, his eyes glittering in some hazy, violet hue instead of his usual reddish-brown. “I just want _you_ , Itsuki. All of you. You really thought I’d let you slip away?”

 

It isn’t the voice that alerts Shu. It’s hardly even the name, though Nazuna usually calls him by something else, rather than his blunt family name. It’s the _eyes_ , and that delighted, wicked pleasure in them that he’s never seen in Nazuna’s, never seen in anyone’s, except…

 

Magic flashes, a shield spell so sudden and strong that it throws both of them back, Shu sprawling over Mika’s bed in his panic, knocking Nazuna back against the door. “You can’t, you can’t, you’re—you’re _gone_ , you can’t—“

 

“Careful,” ‘Nazuna’ sighs, picking himself up off the floor, brushing himself off as if he hadn’t just been tossed aside like a ragdoll. “It’s not me that you’re hurting when you do things like that, but this pretty body. _He_ doesn’t know I’m here.”

 

This is a nightmare. Shu frantically reaches for Rei again, clawing mental holes in the block he’d thrown up, but it’s no use, Rei wants him _out_ , and Shu has never felt quite so alone and helpless. He has another strike ready to go, but holds it back, uncaring as it scorches him, rippling around his hand, eager to leap out and do damage. “You won’t get away with this,” he warns, hoping his voice sounds stronger than he thinks it does. “You have no support, you have no power. If you’re reduced to using a borrowed body—gods, get _out_ of him, you don’t deserve to touch him!”

 

“Wrong, on a few counts,” ‘Nazuna’ dismissively says, fluttering a hand. “I have _plenty_ of support, and soon—well, I don’t want to _spoil_ it for you, but I have to admit, I’m looking forward to a proper comeback. Being in the Capital…ahh, it’s like I never left,” he wistfully says, slumping back against the door, expression giddy. “You’re so stupid, you know. It’s not the first time I’ve been inside your precious doll.”

 

“Possession is against every law there is,” Shu spits, his heart rending anew, furiously reciting mental spells, trying to think of a way to throw Eichi out of that precious, perfect body. “You wouldn’t have to do this if you were really regaining any of your power, you’re less than a ghost.” _Rei, you piece of shit, I don’t care who you’re having, LISTEN TO ME NOW!_ It doesn’t matter. It won’t matter. Rei can’t hear him, which is the way he wants things.

 

Fine. Shu will settle this himself. He readies the power again, but different this time, a purification wave that he sends out in front of him, washing over Nazuna’s (precious, beloved) body.

 

In an instant, Nazuna slumps back against the door, his eyes rolling back into his head as he goes completely limp, and slithers down to the ground. His eyes flutter open again after a moment, and he blinks, confusion quickly taking over his expression as he looks around, trying to piece together where he is and how he got there. “…M—Shu,” he dimly corrects himself, frowning as he sits up. “What…what the hell.”

 

Relief crashes over Shu in a wave just as strong as the one he’d send out, and he rushes forward, kneeling next to Nazuna, hands reaching out, though he tries to pull them back. “You were possessed,” he says gently, feeling his hands start to tremble. “Are you—do you know where you are? Do you remember…” _What you said, the way you cut into my heart?_

 

“…Possessed,” Nazuna echoes, sounding very skeptical as he stares back at Shu, not entirely comprehending. “No, I…I don’t know how I got here,” he admits, glancing around again, his eyes flickering over to the bed Mika lies sleeping upon with a frown.

 

“Don’t look at him!” Shu’s voice cracks out like a whip, intensely protective, extremely overstimulated by the day’s events and trying not to just collapse. “You—look, go down to the lower floors of the Academy, ask them to make you a ward-charm, that will keep any ghosts out of your body.” _That’s all he is, a ghost. That’s_ all _he was._

 

“Don’t _yell_ at me. Aren’t wizards supposed to be protecting people from that sort of thing anyway?” Nazuna grouses, slowly picking himself up onto his feet, wincing when he feels oddly bruised and wobbly. “Ow. Did you do something to me? I feel like I got thrown from a horse…”

 

“No,” Shu lies promptly. “Whatever was possessing you must have roughed you up a bit.” He sits on the edge of Mika’s bed, pressing trembling hands together, the fear slowly edging back into him as he tries not to think too much about what’s happening. _He knows about Mika, he knows about Mika, he knows about Mika…_ “You’re the one in my private rooms, just because you were possessed doesn’t mean I can tolerate such a thing.”

 

“You’re awfully strange-acting for me just being possessed by a stupid ghost,” Nazuna huffs, straightening his coat as he gives Shu another long, wary look before he sighs, turning away. “Does that kind of thing happen often? I’ve never heard of it.”

 

“Not often.” Shu purses his lips, and looks away, as usual, weak to Nazuna. “It was someone I knew before his death. No, it isn’t common.”

 

“Sounds like you’re the one that’s being haunted, then,” Nazuna mutters, shaking himself off like a dog, as if that’ll rid him of the strange, itchy feeling that keeps crawling over his skin. _Ugh_. “Who was it? Was it someone _I_ knew?”

 

“It doesn’t matter.” Saying His name will only make that horrible creature show up faster, more often. “Go get a protection charm. I—I knew it wasn’t you.” Shu’s face is haunted, lip trembling as he tries, and clearly fails, to hold it together.

 

Nazuna’s mouth twists, but he says nothing before he grabs for the door handle. “As long as you’re sure,” he settles upon, nudging the door open. “Hey. Get some sleep or something. You look terrible.”

 

“Thanks,” Shu says dryly, and before he can stop himself, adds, “You look beautiful.”

 

Nazuna opens his mouth to retort to that, then snaps it shut again with a ruffled huff before the door clicks shut.

 

~

 

Coming out of a magic-induced stupor of feeding is usually a rude awakening in and of itself. Coming out of such a thing and feeling chunks carved out of the block on his bond, however, is enough to nearly stop his heart.

 

Rei doesn’t ride back; he teleports, no matter the excess energy that uses, no matter how it makes him dizzy and leaves him stumbling into the Academy, shedding his cloak in the process. He reties it hastily as he takes the stairs up to his shared tower with Shu, and is immediately met with a haze of new spells once he steps onto the landing outside of the already heavily locked door.

 

That does not bode well. Perhaps he _should_ have taken a moment to hassle his spies to see if they knew what _happened_ before arriving like this.

 

“Shu.” Rei sets a hand onto the door, knowing better than to waste time trying the locks. “Shu, let me in.”

 

Shu, busily knitting to keep his anxious hands moving, snorts to himself, no matter how his soul quivers, trying to get to its mate. _Stop that. We’re mad at him._ “Let who in?” he asks, raised voice brittle and sharp.

 

“Please don’t,” Rei sighs, setting his forehead against the enormous door. “Why did you change all of the spellwork, love?”

 

“That,” Shu declares, frost so strong it nearly creeps over the walls, “sounds like something an imposter would ask. Die confused, demon.”

 

Rei winces. “Shu. Please let me in.” _You know who it is. I’m sorry, I lost track of time and should’ve realized you needed me. I’m an idiot, but let me in._

 

After a very long moment, several spells unhook or dissolve, and the door very slowly slides open, just enough to show one eye. Shu looks at him, a dozen unhappy emotions in his expression, lips pursed. “If you _are_ Rei,” he says finally, “you should understand that if you make the slightest effort, through our bond or physically, to soothe away my anger instead of apologizing, I will leave you. I don’t care if that means wandering alone for the rest of my life. And I’ll take all of your clothes, I made them and you don’t deserve them.”

 

The reflex to reach out and touch Shu is strong, but Rei stamps it down, holding his hands up in immediate surrender instead. “I won’t lay a hand on you, I swear,” he promises. “It’s second nature to be silver-tongued, I know you know that, but feel free to slap me to keep me in check. I’m very, very sorry, please don’t leave me or take my clothes, you always make me look very dashing.”

 

“Don’t make me slap you,” Shu snaps, a hint of raw pain in his voice. “Try—just _try_ to behave, for once? Don’t put the burden on the one that loves you? I won’t just slap you, I _will_ cut you. Come in.”

 

Rei bites back the automatic quip— _is that supposed to be a deterrent?_ —though he’s sure it shows in his face, no matter how he tries to keep it back. “I’m behaving,” he hastily reassures Shu, stepping inside and deliberately still not touching Shu. He knows, very well, what that will do to mollify him, and as much as he’d like that to happen, he needs the unedited version of events. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. Tell me what happened?”

 

“He’s back.”

 

Shu spits the words, and tosses his knitting to the side, grabbing the big comfortable blanket crumpled on the bed and wrapping it fully around himself, insulation from the world and the horrible things that happen in it. “He’s back. He possessed N—the Master of Coin. To torment me. And you were _busy_.”

 

The sickening weight of dread and guilt that immediately slams down into his gut makes Rei suck in a sharp breath. Logic, however, firmly tries to prevail, and Rei steps after him with a shake of his head. “That’s not possible. It might’ve been a shade of him, but even that’s a stretch—Shu, he _can’t_ come back.”

 

Shu stares at him, then very quietly asks, “Are you saying I’m stupid? Easily tricked? Or that I’m lying? Be specific, I want to know what to be angry about.”

 

“None of the above,” Rei swiftly says, sweeping forward and stopping just shy of touching Shu, though his fingers twitch at his sides from the instinctive urge to. “All I’m saying is that there’s no way he could be here. For him to get past all of the precautions I’ve personally taken, all of the shields and castings I’ve put up by my own hand—it’s so much more likely that it’s a shade, or maybe he sent someone to _pretend_ to be him. He’s terrible, but he’s clever, and you know that.”

 

“Someone who knows me that intimately?” Shu whispers. “Who knows how I feel about you, about Izumi, about Mika, even about _him_? I know his speech patterns well enough by now. And he said he was coming back.”

 

Rei exhales, and takes a seat on the end of the bed. “He can’t come back,” he firmly repeats. “I was with Leo not too long ago; I would’ve been able to tell if something had changed.”

 

“I could tell you were with him. You only wall me out to that degree when you’re with him.”

 

“Because of who he is, and who he’s attached to,” Rei quietly says. “The timing wasn’t intentional, but I am sorry.”

 

“And because you don’t want me feeling that connection you two have,” Shu says, a little bitterly. “As if I don’t know what you did to him, what you’re still doing to him. Give me a little credit.”

 

“I give you every bit of credit,” Rei says, leaning back onto his hands. “I don’t know what you think I’m _doing_ to Leo other than protecting him—which is how I _know_ there’s no way the previous Emperor is truly in this realm.”

 

“I—I know.” The worst thing about their bond is that Shu knows very well when he’s being unreasonable, and he hates it. “I know why you did it. And I thought it was for the best, until today. What if he _is_ back, Rei? He’s more powerful than we ever thought, always has been.”

 

“I know he is. I’m hearing you, I swear I am—but I would’ve felt it if he tried to come back through Leo, and that’s the _only_ way I know of an archdemon being able to return. There’s nothing else that’s ever been written, you know that as well as I do.” Rei hesitates, and unable to resist any longer, reaches out to tug on the edge of the blanket Shu has wrapped himself up in. “It’s causing me actual, physical pain to see you like this; please let me at least pet you.”

 

“I can’t keep going like this.” Hot tears sting Shu’s eyes, and he looks down at his knees, tugging the blanket more tightly around himself, flinching away from Rei. “I can’t, I’m dying like this. I’ve—I’ve lost everyone I love, you’re only still around because of the bond, Mika, I can’t help him, Izumi is off adventuring, I don’t even want to be around myself most days—“

 

“That’s not true, that’s _not_ true,” Rei hastily insists, and in spite of Shu’s previous protests and how he flinches back, he grabs for his hands, squeezing them tightly in his grasp. “You can _feel_ that it isn’t true. I’m so, so sorry I wasn’t here, but it isn’t because I don’t want to be around you—the opposite, actually, but I…something happened. In High Harbor. I had to go investigate it. Shu, if I wanted to be gone, I would already be gone. You know that about me.”

 

“I love you, Rei.” Shu isn’t even trying to keep the tears back anymore, but his deep voice doesn’t waver. “I do. And it has nothing to do with our bond, I love your generosity, the way you look in the clothes I make you, your sense of humor, that stupid noise you make when you cry, the way you saw potential in me when everyone else only saw something pathetic, but…I can’t keep feeling this way, you make me feel…” Words aren’t enough, so he opens his bond, fully, for the first time in over a year, squeezing Rei’s hands back as he lets him feel the deep well of shame, despair, and utter cold loneliness that is his every waking moment, the hole in his soul that doesn’t feel healed, only raw and jagged, and the bleak terror consuming him at the thought of Eichi’s return.

 

Rei sucks in a slow breath, and he immediately slings an arm about Shu, dragging him close and pressing his lips to his forehead. “I’m sorry,” he softly says again, forcing himself not to flinch and pull away even when that ragged part of Shu’s soul makes his own tremble. “I know you’ve been suffering. I know. It’s…difficult knowing that, and not being able to fix it,” he adds, his voice dropping. “I don’t know how to help, and when one is a pathological egomaniac like myself…it does make me wonder if you would be happier, following after wherever Mika is. But,” Rei briskly says, sitting back with a huff of breath, “I’m selfish and can’t let you do that. Not when I’ve already let that Sena boy do a few foolish things that you haven’t been allowed to know about.”

 

“I’m so tired, Rei,” Shu whispers, leaning slowly forward, resting his forehead against Rei’s shoulder. “I don’t care about being mad anymore, I’m scared and tired and I just want to feel better.”

 

“I know, love, I know,” Rei gently says, smoothing his hands over Shu’s hair, down his back, petting him slowly. “I’m trying to help. As usual, I’m not fast enough, but I’m trying. Izumi found the drakes up North.”

 

“Give me an assignment.” The sentence is almost a plea, even as Rei soothes away some of his soreness, drags him gently back to the land of the living. “Anything I can do, I can’t just…I can’t just sit here and watch him waste away anymore, it’s killing me.”

 

 _And you certainly don’t need to stay anywhere near the Capital._ “…In High Harbor,” Rei carefully says, gripping Shu’s shoulders to gently push him back, all the better to look in his eyes. “There’s something you can do. I daresay no one else is strong enough, and I don’t even want to send you, but…”

 

“I’ll do it,” Shu says immediately. “Give me a fast horse and tell me vaguely what I’m to be doing, I’ll do it with style.”

 

“I need you to do what the previous Emperor and I couldn’t do years ago,” Rei says, holding his gaze. “Off the shore of High Harbor, there’s a Sorrow’s Gate. It needs to be closed. Not sealed, but closed. Permanently.”

 

Shu’s face goes pale, then pink, and for the first time in years, his eyes blaze with purpose. His jaw firms. “How large is it? They get bigger every time they swallow a life, don’t they? Wait, off the shore? Is Kanata all right?” _I can’t lose another friend, I can’t, I can’t—_

 

“He’s fine—he’s fine, that’s why I went there so quickly, to make sure of that,” Rei quickly says. “It’s large, but not the largest one. But it’s still the one closest to the Capital, and that makes it so, so dangerous. I’m sure Kanata would be willing to help you, once he fully recovers, but…this is something I can only really trust you with, love. Wataru and Natsume are having trouble with the one in the West already.”

 

“I’ll do it.” Shu’s smile is small, but genuine. “Thank you. No one else…” _Would think I could do something so big, so important, but you always have known me most deeply, my dearest love._ “I won’t disappoint.”

 

“I know you won’t, I know.” Rei gathers Shu’s face up in his hands, pulling him forward to kiss him softly. “I’ll arrange for Mika to be transported there as well,” he quietly says. “He can stay in the High Harbor estate.” Kaoru won’t like having a necromancer around, even a comatose one, but that isn’t really up to him.

 

Something tense and unhappy in Shu relaxes, and he shudders slightly, nodding. “Thank you, my love. Thank you for always understanding. Thank you for believing in me. And—and if I come back to the Capital and he’s still floating about, I’m leaving for good. I’ll go live in the clouds, I don’t care.”

 

“I will tear out his heart and fling him directly into the sun,” Rei bluntly says, giving Shu’s hair a brisk ruffle as he pulls back. “If he is somehow here, I won’t let him touch you. Ever. I’m sorry you were so frightened, and I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

 

“Don’t do that again.” Shu’s voice is quiet, but there’s no compromise in his eyes. “Promise me. I don’t want our bond muted ever again if you can’t promise me I won’t be alone if he comes back. You can deal with it, I’ll deal with it, I don’t care.”

 

“In High Harbor, you’ll be staying with Kaoru, and I’ll let him know about this—all of it, so that he can better protect you. _No one_ can serve as a better preventative against some malevolent spirit like that than a paladin, you know that.” Rei exhales a soft breath as he sinks back. “But I promise you, you will not be alone until this is fixed—either because someone else is there to help you, or because our bond is open. All right?”

 

Shu nods, and reaches out again, squeezing Rei’s cool fingers, then bringing them to his lips for a kiss. “I know I’m not myself right now,” he says softly. “I don’t know if I ever will be again, I don’t know what it tore out of me.”

 

“You’re still you,” Rei simply says with a little shrug of his shoulders. “You’re still Shu, and you’re still mine. It takes quite a bit more to get rid of me, love—well, that’s not true, if you’d harsh with me, I’ll crawl into a corner and cry and probably never come back.”

 

“What a shame, I think your crying face is ever so cute,” Shu says gently, and promptly crawls into Rei’s lap, curling up against his chest. “Do I leave now? Or in the morning?”

 

“I _should_ tell you to leave now, but I need to hold you,” Rei groans, slowly flopping onto his back and dragging Shu with him, squeezing him with both arms. “A proper recharge. You can make me cry all you like, but only if you gently praise me later.”

 

Shu presses a kiss to one cool cheek, then the other, then finally, a not-at-all begrudging one to his lips. “Thank you for being a lovely, caring, generous man,” he says, complete honesty in his voice. “Thank you for making me proud to call you mine. Gods, Rei, all I’ve wanted for a decade and a half is to be worthy of you.”

 

Rei snorts at that, curling his fingers against Shu’s back to slowly knead into him. “You’re a delightful mess, aren’t you. You, worthy of _me—_ you must be joking, considering you’re the most perfect creature I’ve ever been privileged enough to meet.”

 

“You’re right about one thing,” Shu says, amused, a little smile twitching at the edges of his mouth. “I _am_ a mess.”

 

“A _delightful_ mess,” Rei corrects, rolling to squash Shu underneath his weight. “And so very terrifying when you’re angry. I do love watching you when you’re like that, so help me.”

 

“I nearly froze your nose off.” Shu presses a kiss to that nose, then lays back, content to be crushed. “You would have deserved it, everyone always gets so _heated_ when they’re angry. Plebeians.”

 

“My nose might have been frozen, but I would say the rest of _me_ was quite warmed…”

 

“Yes, I’m being generous. Try abandoning me again, and I’ll start freezing somewhere much farther south.”

 

“An abandonment play joke is in poor taste, I suppose,” Rei sighs, mouthing a kiss to the side of Shu’s neck. “Please don’t freeze it off, I think it’s good.”

 

“As do I, love, as do I. Though perhaps…” Shu’s lips part at just the kiss—has it _really_ been so long?—and he murmurs, “Perhaps you could remind me why.”

 

Rei’s eyes lid, and he shifts, bracing his elbows to either side of Shu’s head as he presses another kiss to Shu’s throat. “It’s been awhile, hasn’t it,” he murmurs. _I didn’t want to push, I don’t want to push now, are you sure it’s fine?_

 

 _I never stopped wanting you. Not for a second._ Shu’s mental voice rings with truth, naked and raw, not wavering as he slowly winds his hands around Rei’s neck. “Too long. Can you believe I’m the consort of a sex wizard, and I haven’t been fed upon for…” He thinks, dismayed. “It can’t have been _that_ long…”

 

Rei’s eyebrows raise in amusement as he plants another kiss to Shu’s throat, parting his lips to gently nip before he sucks on that soft, pale skin. “It has,” he confirms, only affection behind the words. “It’s given me an excuse to waste away beautifully.”

 

That breaks the spell of sweetness, and Shu snorts. “Waste away in the arms of the entire East Coast?” he asks, amused. “Truly, your sacrifice is noted. Surely, you mean to tell me that I’m far superior to all of them, who could never compare, even taken as a group stacked against me as a single person?”

 

Rei gasps, affronted. “The arms of the entire East Coast? You’re so cruel to me,” he sniffs, rolling abruptly away with a sniffle. “I’ll have you know, I’ve been _languishing_ …until last week, but that’s not the point.”

 

“Languishing?” Shu laughs, and curls around Rei’s body, squeezing arms around his waist. “Then surely, I must heal you from your noble sacrifice, my love. Which part of you is in the most distress, and perhaps needs to be healed with my lips?”

 

“I’m _always_ in distress when I’m not with you,” Rei laments, another, decidedly fake sniff following. “Because it goes without saying that you’re far superior to everyone in the whole world. But your lips are good, yes, thank you.”

 

“What, pray tell, do I do better than everyone else?” Shu asks, a bit wickedly. “Feel free to tell me. And be extremely detailed and graphic, please.”

 

Rei cocks his head, then slowly turns back around, fake tears entirely gone. “No one in this whole world has a mouth like yours,” he forwardly says, lifting a hand to run his thumb over Shu’s lower lip. “You’d _think_ someone else would be able to suck cock like you do, but you’d be very wrong.”

 

“I—really?” Shu is taken aback, enough that he prods their bond, looking for the red-flat tinge of a lie in Rei’s mental voice. “I never thought I was particularly…how is it possible to be _bad_ at such a thing? I certainly never had any practice, before you…”

 

“Most men,” Rei says, amusement making his lips twitch up at the corners, “can’t even fit their mouth around a cock like mine, let alone look pretty while letting the whole thing slide down their throat. Go on, keep prodding, I’m being honest. Even _I’m_ not that good.”

 

Shu, with more flair and determination than he’s shown anything in months, perhaps years, turns and shoves Rei onto his back, yanking his robes open. “In that case, my lord, feel free to marvel. It isn’t often you’re in the presence of a genius at work, after all.”

 

“I could be in this kind of presence _more_ often,” Rei breathes, flopping onto his back without complaint as a hand automatically slides down to aid with pulling his laces open. “You’re so lovely, do you know that?”

 

“I’ve been informed.” Shu’s voice is distracted as his prize is revealed. Even half-hard, the visible sign of Rei’s interest makes him lick his lips, then immediately begin mouthing over the head of Rei’s cock, tasting end enjoying it every second. _Most men would have to pull off to speak to you, also, wouldn’t they?_

 

Rei shudders, his fingers immediately sliding through Shu’s hair, mussing it thoroughly as his nails scrape against his scalp. “Gods,” he exhales, his cock giving an eager, excited twitch underneath Shu’s mouth. Shu, in and of himself, is such an overstimulation that it makes his eyes cross, but after so _long_ , it’s all he can do not to come immediately just from one swipe of that perfect tongue.

 

 _You really love this so much?_ Shu fancies sometimes that he can taste other men on Rei. It’s never really bothered him—he’s in Rei’s mind, he knows what Rei thinks, feels, and believes, and knows there’s more than enough of his generous heart to go around. But deep down, he’s always believed that he’s only as skilled as one of many, with the beauty of their joining stemming from the synergy created by the meeting of their bodies. _Then use my mouth all you want, I love feeling the taste of you on my tongue._

 

There’s something even more erotic about Shu’s voice in his mind instead of his ear, and Rei has to shut his eyes, wetting his lower lip with a flick of his tongue as his now achingly hard cock rubs against those perfect, soft lips. A tug on Shu’s hair, and he guides his mouth further down, the head of his cock dripping as it slides over that hot tongue. “Fuck,” he breathes aloud, his nails scraping against Shu’s scalp as his back arches up. _‘Do I really love this so much’—_ this _is exactly what I think of when I just have my hand to keep me company._

 

Shu privately doubts that Rei is ever stranded with “just” his hand for company, not when he could so easily have any man he wanted, but he keeps that behind his teeth, opting to use his mouth instead for another purpose. His hands come up to stroke Rei’s thighs, down to touch every sweet, sensitive part of him, letting Rei’s hands tug him around. _Do I look good, my love?_ he asks, eyes fluttering innocently up at Rei as that thick cock slides into his mouth, then down his throat. _Like I said, detailed…_

 

Rei dares a glance down, and sucks in a ragged breath when his hips cant up, giving into the urge to let his cock slide further down, down, until it can’t go further, and his fingers twitch and pull at Shu’s hair, keeping his head down when he just shallowly lets his cock thrust in. _You look…like you were made for this_. Even his mind stumbles over coherency, and honesty prevails instead. _Like you’re my whore._

 

Shu inhales quickly, enough that he chokes a little, nails digging into Rei’s thighs. A choked whimper escapes around Rei’s cock, and he wraps one hand around the base, holding it in place as he dives down farther, obscene slurping noises rapidly taking over from his delicate laps as Rei swells between his lips. _I am,_ he thinks, eyes lidding. _Whenever you want me, you can have me any way, doesn’t that make me your whore?_

 

_If not, I’m going to make sure you are now. Move your hand._

 

The second those long, pretty fingers slide away from his cock, Rei’s own fingers are ruthlessly firm, dragging Shu’s mouth down until his nose is buried into the dark, coarse hair at the base of his cock. Each thrust up of his hips is more eager than the last as Rei lends himself to the sensation of that hot, slick mouth around him, and with how riled he is, there’s _no_ way he’ll last.

 

Maybe that’s merciful. His cock throbs between those perfect, swollen lips, and Rei loses himself with a low, rumbling groan, holding Shu’s head in place as he comes in long, hot pulses down Shu’s throat. _Good whores don’t spill a drop._

 

That’s one direction that Shu doesn’t need in the slightest. He swallows hungrily, eyes watering, his own cock aching, all of that insanely secondary, tertiary compared to the feeling of Rei spilling down his throat in hot, eager spurts. _I could have more,_ he thinks dazedly, blinking bleary eyes up at Rei, breathing through his nose when he can breathe at all. _Gods, I could always have more, fill my belly, please…_

 

Normally, Rei tries very, _very_ hard to be careful around Shu, to not lose control, to not let his instincts take the reins.

 

Normally, it hasn’t been over a year since he’s laid hands on his mate.

 

Rei’s fingers tighten, pulling Shu’s mouth off of his cock, slowly enough to feel him swallow, hear him gag and pant for breath before Rei shifts, tossing Shu facedown into the sheets. “I’ll fill your belly another way,” Rei pants out as he settles behind him, pressing a wet kiss to the side of his neck and giving his ass a brisk slap before hiking those lean hips up and yanking his trousers down. “No one takes cock like you do,” he rumbles against Shu’s ear, yanking off the skin of oil from his own belt to dump it over his fingers, promptly shoving a pair of them inside. “Your mouth, your ass—every hole you have is made for this, isn’t it?”

 

Shu opens his mouth, but the cry he lets out is less about shock, more about intense, _startled_ pleasure, forcing him from merely enjoying to utter indulgence in one brief thrust. He shoves back, greedy, as if he’s starving for the rough treatment, clenching down on Rei’s fingers just to feel it _more_. “Every hole I have is made for pleasure, good sir,” he groans, scrambling to grab the bedsheets, getting his arms under him to help him shove back. “So take your pleasure, hmm?”

 

Rei is always so sweet with him, so careful with him, and just knowing that makes him want to be tossed, bossed, and maybe even slapped around, something that makes him clench to think about.

 

Rei bites without warning, his teeth sinking into Shu’s shoulder, fangs breaking the skin even through the fabric of his shirt. Even if he doesn’t drink, that doesn’t stop him from holding on as his fingers twist and spread inside, opening up that tight hole when it clenches down around his fingers so eagerly.

 

 _You even_ sound _like a whore._

 

Rei’s fingers curl, stroking deliberately before he drags his hand out, tipping the rest of the oil over his cock. He’s still hard, achingly so, and rubbing the dripping head of his cock against that slick hole makes him growl against Shu’s skin before he shoves himself inside, that twitchy-tense resistance—not for Shu’s lack of wanting, just from how _wound up_ he is—making him throb inside of him.

 

Rei is big.

 

After multiple years of togetherness, many of those years involving sex at least a few times per day, Shu would have thought he’d have internalized the size by now.

 

But something about having that thick length shoved inside of him, into one of his most delicate and sensitive areas, makes him suddenly reevaluate his standards for _big_.

 

He cries out, burying his face in the blankets, wiggling helplessly back. _All yours, all yours, use me, I’m yours, your whore, your lover, your anything you want, I love you…_ He doesn’t mean to say all of that, but when Rei is in him, he can’t help but lapse into nonsense.

 

Rei releases Shu’s shoulder from his teeth to suck in a long, ragged breath, tossing his sweaty hair back from his face as his hands wrap around Shu’s waist, yanking him back onto his cock when Shu wriggles back. “That’s it,” he pants out, bending forward over him to thrust in, harder with each roll of his hips. “You’re—nhh—so good at this, no one… _no one_ takes my cock like you.”

 

Another, merciless shove of his hips, and he’s buried completely inside, panting against Shu’s back. Rei shoves a hand up and underneath Shu’s shirt, tweaking a nipple as he grinds in slowly, savoring the way Shu moves and clenches around him. “You like this,” he lowly taunts. “You like it when I treat you like a demon would his queen.”

 

Shu twists, just enough to be able to stare Rei in the face, even as his hips circle desperately onto Rei’s cock. “What,” he pants, “do you mean…like a demon _would?_ Am I not your queen? Are you not my demon lord?” Gods, but it’s hard to even pretend to be angry when his cock is betraying him, spilling in long, steady streams against the bed as he starts to writhe, his mind fizzling out into pleasant effervescence, all of the sense he has left dribbling out of one ear as Rei works him over.

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Rei breathes as he shoves Shu back facedown with a firm hand between his shoulderblades, pinning him to the bed as he grinds in hard. “But demon lords aren’t so gentle with their things, are they?”

 

 _Maybe I’ve been too gentle_ , the thought continues, and Rei’s hand slides up into Shu’s hair, fisting there to hold him down as he ruts in, each grind of his hips more feral, animalistic than the last when he fucks Shu through his orgasm, _feeling_ those spasms go through Shu’s body as much as his mind. His own cock pulses hard, throbbing, dripping as he thrusts in, and Rei surges forward to bite the back of Shu’s neck with a low, rasping growl as he comes, shoving in deep as he fills Shu’s belly, as promised.

 

 _You have been too gentle,_ Shu thinks at him in a daze, eyes rolling back as he slumps down on the bed, feeling magical fire blaze around him, harmless, just an aurora borealis of lights playing aesthetically over the walls and ceiling. “Demon lords,” he groans, letting his head fall to the side, revealing those little pinpricks only just healing over, “should fill their own bellies, while they’re filling mine.”

 

_So mess me up like I really am your plaything. Maybe I’ve been waiting for that._

 

Rei shivers hard, forcing his mouth to release Shu’s throat after another long swallow, his tongue dragging over the marks to lap up any blood that escapes as much as the fine sheen of sweat that covers Shu’s skin. “You look…very messed up right now,” he murmurs, leaning back enough to slide a hand down to where they’re connected, his fingers absently brushing against that stretched hole. “I’m going to have _such_ an overflow of magic at this rate. So much for grain shortages.”

 

“Mm, good,” Shu murmurs, fluttering his eyelashes back at Rei as he slowly stretches, utterly content to be full. He lets one of his hands roam down, absently brushing over the tiny bulge in his stomach, unable to stop himself from wondering, _maybe, this time, just maybe…_ “No one ever died of a surplus.”

 

“Happy to do my part to feed the hungry,” Rei rumbles, mouthing warm, wet kisses to the backs of Shu’s shoulders, his thoroughly mussed ‘braid’ of hair thumping down over his shoulder to trail over that skin in his wake. “Imagine if I _did_ knock you up. Our children would be so, so beautiful. I need them to have your nose.”

 

“Of course, my nose is a work of great beauty,” Shu agrees, pleased with this silly line of questioning, reaching for one of Rei’s hand to entertwine their fingers. “Your chin, though, and your cheekbones. Of course, mine are beautiful as well. We _are_ a handsome couple, are we not?”

 

“I can’t think of any couple more handsome,” Rei breezily says, tangling his fingers with Shu’s before he rolls, dragging Shu with him with his arm firmly cinched about his waist. “Wataru and Natsume come close. But I feel as though they’re…far, far stranger.”

 

“Also, their appeals are quite different from each other,” Shu says immediately, as though he’s been waiting to discuss such a topic, hardly phased to be rolled around with a cock still buried deep inside him. “That makes them…perhaps more striking, but we handily win in pure handsomeness. They’re both lovely, but in two distinctly different odd ways. In other words, one of them is likely to appeal to most people, but both of them are unlikely to appeal to a majority of people, whereas we are both refined and classically, devastatingly handsome.”

 

“I could listen to you talk for hours, do you know that?” Rei says, planting another kiss to Shu’s neck, then another, swiftly becoming distracted by the taste of Shu’s skin. “Even when it isn’t complimenting me necessarily, mm. Now I’m thinking about our future child, I think she would definitely have curly hair.”

 

“Of course. She would be the first female wizard,” Shu says, as if such a stupid, impossible thing is obvious. “I changed my mind, she’ll have my cheekbones after all. Your collarbones, though, or I’m stuffing her back inside.”

 

“These bony things? I suppose. And we’re both fortunate to have such lovely necks, aren’t we,” Rei murmurs, sucking on Shu’s for good measure to leave a tiny little hickey right at the base of it. “Actually, it would be better if she looked like you entirely. A vision.”

 

“I’ve always known I’d be a stunning lady,” Shu says, without the smallest hint of humility. “I’m glad I’ve gotten to see you as a woman, I’d dress you all the time if your measurements didn’t keep changing. They do every time you shift, you know. Is it on purpose?”

 

“It probably is entirely dependent on how much I’ve been stuffing my face,” Rei says with a grin, sliding a hand up to absently pinch one of Shu’s nipples. “But honestly, it’s a _little_ bit instinctive, depending on the crowd I’m around…the size of one’s breasts can really change how a man reacts to you.”

 

Shu sucks in a swift breath, and slowly wriggles in Rei’s arms. “Men are…stupid,” he murmurs, turning his head to press a soft kiss to Rei’s cheekbone rather inaccurately. “Who cares how big they are, unless you’re actively feeding a baby? They have the same number of nipples.”

 

“I don’t care in the slightest,” Rei agrees, amused as he dives down to catch Shu’s mouth with his own, sucking on his lower lip as he draws back. “Mm. If there’s a size _you_ like designing for, I’ll try to keep it to that. Then you can dress me as much as you want.”

 

“Twenty-five centimeters more than your waist,” Shu says immediately. “Beautiful proportion. Your waist is usually the same size, so keep it like that, I need a new doll.”

 

“That’s so specific. I do like that about you. All right, noted, I’ll happily be your doll.” Rei kisses him again. “After you come back from saving the world, undoubtedly.”

 

“Oh, of course,” Shu assures him. It brings him a thrill of pleasure, knowing that Rei trusts him with something so big, so important, so _difficult_. Part of him swells with pride, though another part quails in fear. More of him, he’s surprised to find, pushes back at that fear, more annoyed with it than anything. _Better than sitting here pathetic for another five years._

 

 _You’re not pathetic and you never were. Relax._ “But you are projecting a little, my love,” Rei says, shifting after stuffing his face into Shu’s hair and breathing in deep for another moment, carefully separating them. “Ahh…shall I run us a bath? I still do recommend leaving in the morning.”

 

“Morning? No, no, that won’t do.” Shu stretches, wriggling his toes. “When I’m dry, I’ll go. Run the bath extra hot, please. I prefer to travel at night, it’s better for my skin.”

 

“Are you sure you aren’t becoming a Shadowbred?” Rei mildly asks, swinging his legs off of the bed and sweeping his cloak about himself in favor of getting entirely dressed.

 

“By association, perhaps,” Shu allows. “Or perhaps just after being fed on for so long.”

 

“Hmm. Maybe I’ll take you to the Shadowlands one day,” Rei says, leaning back over him to drag a thumb gently against Shu’s cheek. “Then we’d know for sure how much of me has truly crept into you. Ahh, but you’re so clearly fae, who knows what would happen…”

 

“So clearly what?” Shu asks, one artful eyebrow raised as he sits up, shaking out his hair.

 

Rei hums underneath his breath, drawing away and drifting towards their attached washroom. “You know, all the little children’s stories about faeries? I’d bet my right arm that you’ve got that in your blood—well, sidhe, is the technical breed, I suppose, but no one calls themselves that.”

 

Shu pauses, considering that. “What would that mean, for me? My family is quite old, you know, but I’ve never heard anything about a mysterious visitation. How long ago would it have to be?”

 

“At least a thousand years. You’re quite diluted, which is why you’re so tasty,” Rei calls back over his shoulder, the sound of summoned, steaming hot water filling the bath following. “But it’s still there…and in the Shadowlands, _something_ could smell that. You and Wataru are probably distant relatives, isn’t that disturbing?”

 

“Disturbing? I think that sounds highly delightful,” Shu calls back, grabbing a luxurious floor-length robe from where it’s draped over his high-backed chair. He wraps it around himself, a muttered spell enough to keep it clean of any stray body fluids, and trails after Rei. “Summon a lavender bush or something, will you? I want to smell good.”

 

“You always smell good,” Rei absently offers up, dipping a long finger into the little pots of earth shelved on the washroom’s walls specifically for this purpose, and slowly springs up a little bush of blue lavender. “I wonder who’s more diluted, you or Natsume. I’d know if I could taste him, but Wataru’s become very possessive of that child, so I doubt that’ll happen.”

 

Shu plucks a few flowers from the ends of the branches, giving them a gentle caress in thanks before scattering them into the bathwater, then slipping in himself, robe draped over a shelf nearby. His minor aches and pains ease away, making him squirm a little in pleasure. “Ahhh, that’s outstanding,” he says with a sigh, eyes lidding. “Spoil me every day, after I get back from saving the world. I think I’ll quite deserve it.”

 

“You deserve it now, too,” Rei says in amusement, shedding the rest of his clothes to slither down into the bath at the other end, heaving a long, satisfied sigh. He unravels the tie at the end of his hair, finger-combing the mess of it out into the water. “But I’ll spoil you more once you prove your genius to the rest of the world once and for all. You’re brilliant, you do know that, right?”

 

“I should hope,” Shu says with a smile, poking Rei’s thigh with one toe, “that I wouldn’t accept such a job without thinking that much of myself, at least. But thank you, my lord. I’ll make you proud.”

 

“…Do me one additional favor?” Rei idly requests, reaching out to catch Shu’s foot in his hands, and promptly drag his thumbs up the arch of it. “Don’t let Kaoru throw himself on that gate. I swear, they’re like paladin suicide attractants.”

 

“I’ll protect him like he’s my own lover,” Shu assures him, eyelids fluttering in pleasure. “Let me bring your hands with me on my trip, just to soothe me like this at night.”

 

“What, shall I cut them off?” Rei teases, giving Shu’s foot a squeeze. “I’ll join you later. I have my own dealings within the Capital that need attending to…and then a brief trip to the Shadowlands, I think.”

 

“Visit me in my dreams, at least,” Shu says softly. “Dreamwalk into my mind, help lovely things grow in the shadows.”

 

“That I’ll do. And I’ll make sure you wake up…mmm, sticky.”

 

Shu opens his mouth, then closes it again, cheeks pink. “We can do that too, I suppose,” he mutters, the blush traveling all the way up to the tips of his ears.

 

“Goodness, if I ever fail to make you blush, that’s how I’ll know this is over,” Rei teases, fishing around for Shu’s other foot. “But for now, I think I’m doing all right.”

 

“No, I’m still angry at you,” Shu says, letting Rei take his other foot. “And will be until this whole thing is resolved, or perhaps forever, if it means you stay sweet like this.”

 

“Let me get this straight,” Rei says, plucking at one of Shu’s toes before he starts his foot rub. “You’re angry at _me_ , so the solution is I should spank you more in bed.”

 

“I—I don’t _think_ I said that?”

 

“Hmm. You said something like it—something about how you want to be tossed, and bossed, and slapped around—highly barbaric, but if that’s what will make you love me again…”

 

Shu squeaks, and hides his face, immediately slipping under the water. _You ass_.

 

 _My ass? Sorry, I was thinking about yours._ “You’re the one that wanted me in your head again,” Rei sing-songs, pulling on Shu’s foot. “All the time, I’ll be whispering things like this~”

 

Shu surges up, climbing into Rei’s lap, kissing him fiercely. _If this is our last kiss, make it a good one, make me feel like I’ll never be let go._

 

 _That’s terribly morbid, don’t say things like that._ Nevertheless, Rei’s finger sink into Shu’s hair immediately, dragging him down as he arches up to kiss him deeply, his tongue shoving past those soft lips to thoroughly taste him, kissing him hard enough that his chest heaves for lack of breath.

 

 _How can I not be worried? No one person has ever done this before._ Shu forces those worries sternly to the back of his mind, and focuses on kissing the hell out of Rei, hands tangled in his hair. _Which is going to make it so much better when I pull it off._

 

Rei shifts, bathwater sloshing over the sides of the tub as his hands drag down Shu’s back, grabbing at that perfectly sculpted ass to squeeze firmly as he sucks on Shu’s tongue with a low, rumbling groan. _That’s why I can only give a task like this to you—gods, you’re so hot when you say things like that._

 

_Then pray that I do it quickly. And be here when I hurry home to you._

 

Shu pulls away, sucking in a breath that makes him pant, eyes glazed over. “Thank you,” he whispers. “But let me go, or I won’t be able to, I’ll be too sore to sit ahorse.”

 

Rei groans, sagging back into the water with a wet, ragged huff of breath. “This is my punishment, then,” he say, breathing deep as he forces his hands to let go. “Outside of this moment, I’m begging you to never demand a kiss like that again if you won’t let me follow through.”

 

“You’re an utter primate,” Shu says primly, lifting himself out of the bath, stretching his limbs. “A kiss isn’t an invitation. It’s a kiss. It’s to be enjoyed as its own act, not simply a precursor.”

 

“I _know that_ , but I’m _programmed_ like this,” Rei bemoans, sinking down all the way up to his chin. “Give me a minute. I’m going to think about your mouth and then I’ll go get you a horse.”

 

“I have—at least, I think I still have a horse, somewhere.” Shu frowns, thinking. “I suppose it has been a few years. Do horses, ah, age quickly?”

 

“Yes. They do. Especially when you want them to be fast.”

 

“Oh. Then yes, please go get me a horse.”

 

“In ten minutes. Out with you, you wretched consort mine.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

 

The Capital at night is a prime hunting ground, but Rei isn’t here for that.

 

Melding into the shadows to sneak into the palace isn’t necessary, but if he’s going to avoid any and all attention, it’s certainly the best choice. The ‘Easterner’s’ chambers are easy enough to find like this. It’s easy enough to slither inside and take a seat in one of the comfortable chairs in his sitting area as well, and it’s certainly easy to snuff all of the candles to shroud the entire room in darkness for the thing’s return.

 

Honestly, Rei had wanted to stay away and not reveal himself, but things have obviously changed.

 

At least, for all of his sins, Hiyori always hums to himself on-key. He does so now, cheery and with a spring in his step, as the day has gone quite well and according to plan, on his way back to his quarters. “The king could at least have given me a nicer place,” he mutters to no one in particular, flicking open the door to his chambers, not bothering to check inside when he strides inside, because who would dare attack him in the very palace?

 

The door slams shut behind Hiyori as if it’s on a string, and the light pooling in from the hallway seems to be immediately sucked from the room, leaving him in pitch black darkness.

 

“Don’t move,” comes Rei’s calm voice, level enough that it’s almost casual when he reveals himself—not seated, but standing directly in front of Hiyori. Only two things are visible in the dark room—the light of his eyes, glowing like a cat’s in the darkness, and from that glow, the glint of a dagger’s steel at Hiyori’s throat. “And don’t scream. _Your_ king needs to have a conversation with you.”

 

“Scary!” The voice doesn’t sound like it’s coming from a terrifying archdemon. Perhaps a whining child, or sullen teenager, as Hiyori shrinks back from Rei’s glowing eyes. “Wow, that’s really scary, gross! Let me go, I didn’t do anything, I’m a nice guy!”

 

“I said,” Rei softly repeats, a hand shoved against Hiyori’s chest to pin him back against the door. “To be quiet. You’ve crossed one too many lines to play dumb, or do I really need to spell it out for you?”

 

Hiyori pouts. It looks stupid on the face of a grown man. “Why are you being so mean? Fine, what do you want? Are you here to rob me?”

 

“No. I’m here to talk about Eichi.”

 

Hiyori’s face suddenly lights up. “Really? Oh, man, cool, put the knife down, no one ever wants to talk about him!”

 

“Why are all archdemons idiots?” Rei flatly asks, not expecting an answer as he deliberately lets the dagger prick against Hiyori’s throat. It sizzles a little when it draws blood, proving Kaoru’s word about exactly how much damage it could inflict right. “You brought a piece of him back into this world. Where is it?”

 

“OW OW OW OW OW OW!”

 

Hiyori’s voice is a piercing shriek of pain, and he writhes as much as he can, pinned against the door, tears streaming down his face. “You’re so mean,” he moans. “I gave it away, I gave it away!”

 

“What was it in?” Warning Hiyori to shut his mouth again isn’t worth it at this point, but now he has to work fast, or explain why he’s tormenting a foreign dignitary. Excellent. “Who did you give it to?”

 

“It was a coin, a coin, just a coin,” Hiyori spills immediately, his mental senses sending out a frantic call for help. Juuuuuuuuun!!!! “I gave it to the serving girl who came to change my bedpan, she was worried because I wasn’t using it, let me gooooo, pleeeeeeeease, it huuuuuuurts—“

 

Of course it was a coin, if it made it back to Nazuna. Rei’s lips purse, and he steps back, pulling the knife from Hiyori’s throat. “Was that the only piece?” he asks. “If you lie, consider you’ve already caused harm to my mate, and I’ll kill you more slowly.”

 

“What, you think I’m powerful enough to smuggle more than that in from the Everdark?” Hiyori giggles nervously, hysterically as he rubs his throat. “I could barely get that up, it almost tore my soul apart, he’s soooo mean! Passing it off was the only way to get him out of my head!”

 

“Does that mean you don’t know where he is now?” Rei presses. “He can’t create his own body yet; surely you two are still…in touch.”

 

Hiyori stares at him as if Rei is an especially stupid rodent. “Um…he’s in the Everdark? Obviously? Where the heck else would he be? Aren’t you the one that sent him there, you and your friends?”

 

“If a piece of him is here, that means the rest of him is trying to crawl its way back. He possessed a friend of mine.” Rei stares back at him, unblinking. “So answer the question. Has he tried to contact you since you lost that coin?”

 

“You’re so mean,” Hiyori spits, and swirls his power around him like a cloak—not lashing out, just hardening into a protective shell, both physical and magical, stopping any attacks before they can come close to him. “I’m done talking to you, I hope Eichi guts you like a really ugly fish.”

 

The use of Hiyori’s power triggers something within the room, with three candles flickering to life just in time to reveal the silent, writhing mass of fat, tentacle-like vines, all studded with thorns, crawling up Hiyori’s walls, barring the door, the windows, and slithering close to his feet with a slow sound that makes it seem as if it’s hissing. “Challenging an archdemon within the palace walls isn’t my ideal evening, but as I said, you already came too close to my mate. Answer the question, and I’ll leave you to lurk about here and enjoy being in the sunlight. Refuse, and I’ll gut you to feed my children.”

 

Hiyori lets out a “Meep!” sound, hunkering down further in his shell. “I’ll answer your question…but then you’d better leave, or I’ll really get mad! I’m a very scary archdemon, when I want to be!” He is, though it’s difficult to point that out when he’s currently busy cowering. “He came to see me once, in someone else’s body. He just wanted to make sure the coin was getting into good hands, powerful hands, but I didn’t know what to tell him, so he just slapped me and left without even giving me my reward? See, he’s the worst, you know? He’s just as mean to his friends as he is to his enemies!”

 

It’s not the answer Rei wants to hear, but it’s one that he begrudgingly believes, nonetheless. “Which body? Short, yellow-haired?” he prods. “Or someone else?”

 

Hiyori stares at him. “Human. I dunno, they all kind of look the same, you know?”

 

“And yet I’m sure you can pick out the human Eichi was bonded to very easily, can’t you.”

 

“Oh, yeah, he’s got a hell of a scent to him, hmm?” Hiyori’s eyes glint, with a hint of old power waking from sleep. “And not a little of yours.”

 

“I wonder,” Rei softly begins, taking a step closer, “if humans blessed by paladins still taste good to archdemons, or if they’d shrivel up like your skin did when you touched this knife. You should try to take a bite out of him and find out.”

 

Hiyori snorts. “No way, Eichi would kill me when he gets back! Hey, just—just chill out, step back, step back, okay? Don’t get any closer, or I’ll really get upset!”

 

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you.”

 

Rei smiles, and sheaths the dagger at his thigh. “I told you—if you answered me, you could stay alive and keep enjoying the sunlight in the Capital for awhile longer. But I’m going to check in on you periodically, and ask you a few questions each time. I think that’s fair, don’t you?”

 

“Sure, whatever,” Hiyori mutters, already planning his escape from the Capital, or at least the tightening of his defenses on his room, or putting Jun on a leash outside his bed. Yes, that one sounds promising. “That knife is nasty. You’re a fucking traitor to your own people, no wonder there’s such a high price on your little brother’s head.”

 

One of the vines twitches, coiling next to Hiyori as if it’s a snake about to strike. “A traitor? You say that as if it’s something new. The last time you and your kind attempted to slink your way out of the dark, I made my allegiance clear. Besides—no one likes archdemons.”

 

Hiyori’s lip trembles. “I’m gonna kill Eichi,” he mutters, hugging his knees. “Go to the human world, he said. Go to the Capitol and check on my bonded, he said. Give this coin to someone, it’ll be fun, there’s sunshine half the day and none of the potholes have Slurpers in them, he said.”

 

“You said it yourself—he’s terribly mean to his friends, just as much as he is his enemies.” Rei pauses, then crouches down, his eyebrows raising. “I don’t relish the idea of killing you. I know how much that knife hurts; it hurts me, too, you know. But if you’re sworn to him, and not me…you’re an enemy not only to the human world, but to the Shadowlands as well.”

 

“Eh? Sworn?” Hiyori stares up at Rei, blinking. “Do I look like the kind of person Eichi wants sworn to him? I’m not sworn to anyone, I’m just helping out a friend, gods.”

 

“If you’re his friend, you’re sworn to him. Don’t argue semantics, that’s exactly how it works and you know it. Also—yes. Yes, you look exactly like the kind of thing he wants sworn to him.”

 

“Wow. that’s rude, I’m only sworn to myself. I’m as powerful as he was, you know!”

 

“Ahh. Surely. Then you wouldn’t mind going against him, if you’re powerful enough to challenge him.”

 

“Of course not!” Hiyori juts out his chin. “If you know anything about our species, you half-breed, you’ll know that unwillingness to challenge each other is basically a death sentence. I’ve challenged him before.”

 

“That must not have gone well for you, considering how quick you are to curl up on the floor and wet yourself.”

 

“You have a really scary knife! An archdemon would never use something like that!”

 

“My paladin friend said it could permanently scar your kind even if I didn’t try to kill you with it,” Rei says, as if stating a particularly interesting fact. “I wonder if it could split that shell of yours first? I bet it could. Anyway, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t think of escaping. I’ll need you to tell me what he’s up to, when he checks in with you.”

 

“If he does come back, he’s gonna do hilarious things to you,” Hiyori mutters rebelliously. “And I’m not gonna look away, I’m warning you. I came to have fun, you know! Not to get attacked!”

 

“And I won’t attack you, so long as you report to me periodically.”

 

“…fine. Whatever. Get out of my room, I want to lie here and bleed for a while. Asshole.”

 

“Swear it properly, and I’ll leave.”

 

Hiyori glares at him, so heated that it burns a hot spot on his shell. “I’m not swearing on the Everdark, it gets too weird about oaths. Define periodically.”

 

“Weekly.” Rei tilts his head. “You don’t have to swear on the Everdark. Swear on the head of your wizard pet. Don’t think I don’t know about him.”

 

Hiyori spits on the floor, fire suddenly burning in his eyes. “I won’t do anything to swear him more than he already is. I swear by my power, that should be more than enough for you.”

 

Rei pauses at that, then shrugs, straightening where he crouches. “Very well. Then my children stay,” he says, though the writhing, wriggly mess of vines start to slither away into who knows where. “An extra precaution. I’m busy, but I’ll still make sure to come and see you personally.”

 

“Great,” Hiyori says, with an utter lack of enthusiasm. “Now get out of my room. I have a long day of pretending this didn’t happen to get through.”

 

Already making his way towards the window, Rei waits until he’s half-way out of it before pausing, and tossing back over his shoulder, “Don’t bother calling for your wizard again, by the way. He’s preoccupied—nicely, of course, so long as you’re nice to what’s mine as well. Good night, Hiyori.”

 

“What the fuck did you do to Jun?”

 

Power—long-dormant and as bright as a black sun—surges into the world from where Hiyori’s been stashing it, in a pocket of the Everdark. It slams Rei out of the door and halfway through the next wall, darkness gathering at every one of the steps Hiyori takes. “ _Where is he?_ ” he snarls, the air crackling, splitting with the sudden whip of power lashing around, only partially controlled and as potent as anything Eichi had ever summoned on a bad day.

 

The shadows of Rei’s power that had begun to slink back into hiding reemerge, immediately blanketing Hiyori’s and seeping out of the room and into the hall to suck it all back in, consolidating the damage as much as possible. “Safe and sound,” he offers, cracking his neck with a wince as he picks himself up. “And off his damned leash for a change. I’ll let you have him back if you help me, that’s the deal. Unlike Eichi, I’m actually careful with my prisoners, so calm yourself.”

 

_Prisoners._

 

_I failed him._

 

Fury and fear alike streak through Hiyori’s face, and he grabs Rei by the lapels, shaking him roughly with more than just insignificant muscles, raw power heating the air where they meet. “Tell me where he is! You terrorist! _I’m_ supposed to be the demon here? Maybe I’ll start really acting like one!”

 

Rei reaches up, grabbing one of Hiyori’s wrists—vice-tight, hard enough that little smoky, black tendrils of magic leak around the touch. “If you care about him,” he lowly, _calmly_ says, “you’ll let me keep him right now. That’s not a threat, that’s an _offer_. Humans aren’t meant to do what he’s been doing, and they especially aren’t meant to be around drude, which I _know_ was not your idea to have around in the first place.” 

 

Hiyori’s human form _vibrates_ , blurring at the edges, then firming again as he gets himself under control, hiccupping for breath. “I kept them apart,” he insists. “I—I cloaked him in my own power, I gave him all of it, I never let that disgusting thing touch him, _I wouldn’t!_ You don’t know anything about me!”

 

“But I know about that. That’s why I know you didn’t want him hurt, understand?” Rei gives his wrist another squeeze before dislodging that hand from holding onto him, finger by finger. “But there’s only so much you can do—human wizards are delicate, and he needs to rest in a proper wizard’s tower. If you help me, I’ll take you to him the next time we talk.”

 

“Take me to him in the morning.” Hiyori’s voice is quiet, urgent. “And, hold on, I have the book he was reading, if you bring it to him, he’ll just settle down and read instead of fighting you, will you take it to him?”

 

“I’ll take the book to him, but I’ll only take you to him if you can answer one question for me right now,” Rei says, lowering the weight of his own magical blanket gradually.

 

“Fine! Sure! Whatever!” Hiyori stamps his foot, frustrated and unhappy.

 

“The Drude’s name.”

 

Hiyori’s face goes pale, and he goes still, preturnaturally still, like a human can’t, free of having to breathe or blink. “If I say it,” he warns, “it’ll summon it. I don’t have it under control, the instructions were just to turn it loose and try to direct it, do you want that thing in the Capital?”

 

“Then write it down. I need to know it. I’d find your bonded and ask him, but he’s rather…loyal to that thing, isn’t he?”

 

“More like compelled,” Hiyori admits, and shakes his head. “Can you open yourself to message receipt? Even writing it down could be dangerous, but I could Send it.”

 

“If you understand that if you try to do anything outside of Sending that one name, you won’t find Jun again,” Rei says, holding Hiyori’s gaze.

 

 _Oazar_.

 

The word echoes from Hiyori’s mind to Rei’s, and he draws back, pursing his lips. “If you were _nice_ and took me to Jun right away, I’d tell you something that could help you.”

 

“If it’s that important, you’ll remember it tomorrow,” Rei mildly says, leaning back. “Or you could tell me now, and I’ll give you more than just a brief audience in the morning.”

 

“Oh, fuck you,” Hiyori snaps, and yanks his arm out of Rei’s hold. “I hope you’re dumb enough to speak it out loud, I hope it eats you and your mate. And if I find out you harmed a single hair on his stupid head, I’ll burn this city to the ground myself. Fuck _off_ , that’s the last time I try to help you!” And he stalks back into his room, slamming the door (and properly sealing it this time) behind him.

 

_Tonight’s lesson: all archdemons are obnoxious—and stupid—in the exact same way._

 

It’s an absent thought flicked in Shu’s direction as Rei pulls his cloak about his shoulders and sinks back into the shadows.

 

Rei probably didn’t expect a quiver of fear back in his direction, but Shu doesn’t particularly like hearing about Archdemons, even ones as stupid as Hiyori. _You’d better only be talking about the one I know is in the Capitol. He’s…has He been doing anything else?_ Leave it to Shu, to be terrified of a dead monster and barely apprehensive about the certain death scenario he’s about to hurl himself into.

 

A warm, soothing brush against Shu’s mind follows. _Easy. He hasn’t done anything else. I found out how a piece of him came back, too, and fortunately, it wasn’t because of my power failing._

 

 _Oh. Good. I assume you know how to get rid of him forever, then, and he’ll be completely purged by the time I get back there._ A pulse of love, heartfelt, with nothing held back, follows that.

 

_It’s being dealt with. A warning—I may be slow to respond for a day or two. I have to go to the Shadowlands, like I mentioned before. Will you be all right?_

 

A pulse of weary amusement filters back. _I’m about to sleep like a dead thing, then finish my ride. If you find the bond muted from my end, it’s because I need to have no distractions for a while. You wouldn’t want to kill me by accident because you’re too noisy, would you?_

 

 _Me, too noisy? How rude._ Deliberately brushing against Shu’s mind with a gentle, affectionate little pet follows. _Sleep well, love._ _If you need me, you’ll be able to reach me._

 

“I always need you,” Shu whispers aloud to himself, and tucks his cloak around him more tightly, bedding down in a roadside inn where he refuses to touch any of the bedding.

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

Returning to the Shadowlands for the first time in years is actually a relief.

 

Rei still doesn’t let himself entirely stretch out once he steps foot past the gate between worlds, not yet. Better to be safe and make sure no one immediately wants to kill him upon returning home, which wouldn’t be unexpected, considering his absence. Still, it’s pleasant to breathe in air that doesn’t smell entirely like temptation and _food_ , and…even more pleasant, if not utterly surprising, is the presence of someone very, very familiar.

 

“…Ritsu?” He tugs down the hood of his cloak. “Ah, you’ve come to greet me! How delightful—who told you I was coming?”

 

“Come in, come i~iin, it’s been too long since—“

 

Too late, _far_ too late, Ritsu looks up from where he’s carefully stepping and actually sees who’s intruding on his house. Unhappy resentment creases his face, and he snaps bitterly, “I take it back, fuck off, you’re uninvited, noooo, you’re not who I was expecting! Trickery! Deceit!”

 

“Ritsu, I knew you missed me!” Rei gushes, immediately launching forward to snatch his brother up into a suffocating hug. “Ah, look at you, you look as lovely as always! You’re so cute, Ritsu, what a good boy.”

 

Ritsu lets himself be hugged for a stupid, instinctual minute, clinging to Rei’s cloak with all the ferocity of a child whose favorite blanket has just been found at last. But when hot tears prick his eyes, he pulls back, horrified at himself. “Ugh! Gross, get away, you’re the worst!” But the words are wet.

 

“Shh, shh, it’s all right, you can crawl back into my cloak,” Rei reassures him, pulling Ritsu back in the next instant and promptly picking him up as if he weighs nothing at all as he strides up the (currently) cobblestoned path of their home. “I’m here now. I’m going to settle in and we’re going to have a long talk about all of this, all right? You’ve been doing so well.”

 

Ritsu attempts to struggle, then goes abruptly limp, sagging into Rei’s arms. “Fine,” he mutters, burying his head in his stupid brother’s stupid firm chest. “Fine. Maybe tea first. And you’re right, I _have_ been doing well, way better than you ever did.”

 

“Mmhm, you absolutely have,” Rei agrees, the enormous wooden front door dissolving as he steps through it. Finally, within their slice of the Shadowlands, he relaxes with a sigh, letting his magic expand and blanket much of the acreage in a way that he’d never allow even within the Academy. “Shall I make it? Or do you want to spoil your big brother a little after so long?”

 

“Make it?” Ritsu asks, nonplussed. “How long have you been gone?” He reaches out to touch the wall, which spits out a shadow clone of Ritsu himself, who bustles into the kitchen single-mindedly in pursuit of tea.

 

“I don’t miss that, actually; I’ve always found it kind of…” Rei winces to himself before collapsing back onto a chair that swiftly changes to an enormous, comfortable chaise to better suit his desire to sprawl with Ritsu atop him. “Who were you expecting if not me?”

 

“Izumi. He’s supposed to be coming up to learn about whatever ate all his people.” Ritsu snuggles in, and with a thought, tints his windows darkly, just in case someone could see him cuddled up to his brother. Whatever, he’ll just kill them if they do. “If he’s figured out how to stop smelling like prey, at least.”

 

Rei’s eyebrows raise at that, but he’s far more interested in petting Ritsu’s hair, and unclasping his cloak to drape it over him like a blanket instead. “The Drude, you mean. Delightful creatures, aren’t they.”

 

Ritsu reaches up and very consciously scores his very sharp nails down Rei’s shoulder, drawing blood even through his clothes. “Don’t say the names of stuff here,” he says mildly, licking the blood off his nails. “It has more power here, you know that. You invite something into my home, you’re cleaning it up.”

 

“I just said the species, not the name,” Rei huffs, barely flinching at how Ritsu scratches him. “This is _my_ house. If anything tries to wiggle its way in, I’ll eat it. I cornered the wretch that’s in the Capital; he gave me a name, but he’s lying. If you’re going to claw at me, feed properly instead, don’t play with your food.”

 

“Playing with it first tenderizes the meat,” Ritsu complains. “Shadowlands law, you’ve been gone too long, my house now.”

 

“But you let me in now, so it’s mine again. You’re not tenderizing me, you’re just making me smell like food. Be sweet, I’m here to throw my weight around for you.”

 

The relief that courses through Ritsu is so strong the house itself quivers for a moment, and Ritsu turns around to hide his face, waving a hand as the shadow blob returns with their tea, sets it down, then melts back into the wall. “I mean, whatever,” he says, trying to pretend to be casual when he’s literally so relieved he’s shaking. “It’s no big deal, but I guess if you _want_ to, I won’t stop you…”

 

“You’ve already done far more than you should’ve had to,” Rei murmurs, stroking a hand down Ritsu’s back. “There’s only so much you _can_ do, I know; no one here cares about hierarchy if it isn’t backed with enough brute strength. If I had been here…well, I doubt those archdemons would’ve slithered their way out in the first place. It’s my fault.”

 

“I have to be so careful who I challenge,” Ritsu whispers, some of the residual anger and fear of the last several years burbling up in him. “They have to be powerful, otherwise it looks like I’m not strong enough to take them on, but…shit, I have to be so careful, there’s dangerous shit up here.”

 

“I know,” Rei exhales, leaning to the side to pluck up his cup of tea. “They think it’s fun to challenge you, probably, because they want to upset me. I’ve been ignoring it on principle, but…that’s obviously not working. Ah, you still make a lovely cup of tea, though.”

 

“They _challenge me_ ,” Ritsu growls, “because that’s the only way they’d become king. Not everything has to do with you, asshole. This is about me.”

 

“You’re not the king, so their challenges mean nothing. You’re welcome to disagree and so are they, but the realm doesn’t.” Rei takes another sip of tea before setting his cup down. “I’ve set you up for failure, I know that—that’s why I’m stepping in now. You’ll be far safer, and find it far easier to help this situation, _outside_ of the Shadowlands.”

 

Ritsu’s eyes flash deep red. “You’re not fucking with me?” he asks, voice hardly above a whisper. “I really get to leave? You’re not going to take it back?”

 

“I thought you liked being here, you know,” comes Rei’s quiet response. “You always told me how uncomfortable you felt in the human realm.”

 

“I do,” Ritsu says earnestly. “I love being in the Shadowlands. But I _haaaaate_ being king. Especially when everyone just sees me as a placeholder until you get back.”

 

“Then let me whip them into shape for awhile.” Rei reaches for Rei’s face, cupping it in his hands. “You’ve done exceptionally well, but I think we both know this isn’t…ideal, by any stretch. I can’t stay here permanently either, but I’m not going to ask you to rule in my stead again. I’ll figure something out, one way or another.”

 

Ritsu sighs sadly. “I thought you had a plan. I’m doomed after all….I should have known better than to think you had any real ideas.”

 

“How could I have a plan? You haven’t shared any real information with me for months,” Rei sniffs, squishing Ritsu’s face in his grasp. “But I have a plan for _you_. I’m sure you’d love to be in the North and to help your pet drake instead of being here, wouldn’t you?”

 

Ritsu paws urgently at Rei’s chest, eyes wide. “Yeah. I really would. You’d better be alive when I get back, though. I really do want to stay here, I’m just so _tired_ right now, it feels awful.”

 

“‘I better be alive’…who do you think I am, you brat?” Rei grouses, pinching one of his cheeks. “When’s the last time you fed? I thought I sent that mate of yours up here so you’d have a bite to eat, did you finally drain him dry?”

 

Ritsu grins. “We’ve been having fun. But he…” He pauses, then swallows hard, looking away. “I don’t want to talk about him right now. Change the subject.”

 

“No, tell me.” Rei frowns, sitting up and adjusting Ritsu on his lap. “I’ll scold him myself if he’s doing something to upset you.”

 

“Drop it. It’s none of your business.” Ritsu shifts, then yanks at Rei’s trousers, suddenly intent. “Gimme a taste. From the best place, it better be all healed up and virginal for me.”

 

Rei heaves a sigh, but he drops the topic for now, tugging open his laces. He’s not exactly slow about it, either. “You’re lucky. I just fed from Shu in about five different ways, so whatever you take should be very…rich.”

 

Ritsu’s fangs glint in the low lighting as he buries his face in his brother’s thigh. “He’s so fancy,” he murmurs, licking eagerly over the skin covering the femoral artery. “You always taste like violets or something after you…” His fangs flash again, and he strikes, drinking deep in a way that soothes him more than any other taste ever does, no matter how old he gets.

 

Rei sucks in a sharp breath, his fingers immediately sinking into Ritsu’s hair to pet and stroke him as he drinks. It’s shockingly cathartic after so long—he can’t remember the last time someone has fed upon _him_ , and it makes him shiver, melting back into the cushions with little desire to make Ritsu stop. “Drink as much as you like,” he breathes, running his fingers down the back of Ritsu’s neck. “I know it’s been a long, long time.”

 

Ritsu drinks deeply for several huge swallows, then finally pulls up, licking crimson-stained lips. “I, ah, nnh, I was basically starving myself,” he admits. “I knew I was gonna see Izumi soon, and he always lets me drink as much as I want, so…ooh, you taste better than usual. Tastiest brother.”

 

“No wonder you’re miserable if you’re _starving yourself_ , damn it, Ritsu…” Rei groans, slumping back as he stares up at the ceiling, breathing slowly, his own eyes lidded. “Please compliment me more, you can drink more.” 

 

“Is it a compliment that you taste good?” Ritsu wonders aloud to himself, lapping at the flesh. “Want me to strike the same place again, or somewhere else? One big deep wound, or lots of little marks?”

 

“Whatever you want.” Rei exhales a long sigh, his nails dragging back against Ritsu’s scalp. “But lots of little marks…that does sound nice. Ah, no one’s fed on me since…damn, the last time _you_ did, I think? When was that, I wonder…”

 

“Too long.” Fangs strike, over and over, one strike per swallow. It’s not an efficient way to feed, but Ritsu loves the sensation of his fangs sinking into virgin flesh just as much as he does the pump of hot blood in his mouth. By the time he’s sated, Rei’s thighs are littered with twin sets of holes. “Thanks,” he murmurs, and reaches down to pat his belly, softly rounded from gulping. “You need to take some from me?”

 

“Hmm?” Rei forces his eyes to focus again. It’s been _far_ too long since he’s been nibbled upon, and being fed upon by someone so familiar makes him feel decidedly warm and pliant. “Ahh…maybe…just a bit.”

 

He shifts languidly, a bit floppy but no less powerful for it as he dumps Ritsu onto his back, and promptly unlaces his trousers as he prowls over him. “Just a taste—for old time’s sake, perhaps…”

 

Ritsu grins. “They’re not real trousers,” he says idly, and they melt into the floor, along with the rest of the shadows. “I got lazy and don’t wanna tie things if I don’t have to.” He throws his legs stylishly wide, meeting Rei’s eyes at the brazen move. “Not many people have a king that lets them do this. And right now, I’m still king, right?”

 

Rei glances up through his lashes, then promptly dives down, mouth parting as he sucks on the soft skin of one inner thigh, his tongue dragging over the tiny mark left in his wake. “Of course, you’re still the king,” he murmurs, nipping lightly enough to just draw a single droplet of blood. “I suppose that means I’m at your service.”

 

“Then put your fangs away,” Ritsu breathes, then grabs Rei’s head and yanks him down to his hardening cock, no subtlety in that gesture whatsoever. “And service your king, I’ve been starving _that_ way, too.”

 

 _What is your mate even_ good for _, then?_ Rei wants to ask, but bites his tongue, running the tip of it over his fangs that he promptly pushes up and away. He needs absolutely no encouragement, his hands sliding up the insides of Ritsu’s thighs as he mouths over the head of Ritsu’s cock, a slow, slick lap of his tongue giving him a proper taste that makes him groan in the back of his throat.

 

Ritsu’s hands curl into Rei’s hair, nails raking against his scalp, smelling a rush of blood into the air that only makes him harder against Rei’s tongue. “You’re really pretty when you’re like this,” he breathes, hips rolling up, shoving the head of his cock in to bump at the back of his throat. “It definitely…hasn’t been that long since you did this to someone, right?”

 

Rei inhales sharply through his nose, his eyes fluttering as he eagerly swallows down Ritsu’s cock, a hungry little groan escaping, no matter how muffled. His tongue works over the underside of Ritsu’s cock, content to let himself be pulled down and to let Ritsu fuck his throat— _especially_ because it’s Ritsu, who knows him so well (perhaps too well) even after so long.

 

“I’m gonna make you swallow all of it,” Ritsu growls, and yanks Rei up and down, then lets his hands just drop, resigning himself to simply enjoying the feel of wet, slick heat around his cock, suckling on him with every pulse of pleasure through him. “If you do a good job…maybe I’ll let you fuck me, just for old time’s sake.”

 

Rei hands slide down, curling around the sweet curve of Ritsu’s ass, encouraging every upward thrust of his hips, every single pull on his hair that makes him choke and swallow hastily on Ritsu’s cock to keep from gagging. Face flushed, eyes watering, Rei feels his own cock aching between his legs, and shifting on the sofa to put less pressure on that is better when Ritsu offers _that_.

 

Ritsu lets out a whine, looping a leg around Rei’s shoulders, keeping him down in something that’s part lover’s embrace, part an aggressive wrestling hold. “Or maybe I’ll just strap you to my bed and ride you until your brains ooze out,” he muses, eyes slit-pupiled. “Maybe I’ll change my mind halfway through and fuck you raw, would you like that, big brother?”

 

There are advantages and disadvantages to one’s little brother knowing _everything_ about them, and _this_ clearly demonstrates both.

 

The threats—which is exactly what they are, in the best of ways—go straight to his cock, and Rei’s moans are muffled and sloppy around Ritsu’s cock as he chokes him down, swallowing hard to keep taking him down his throat even when his focus is, predictably, somewhat elsewhere. His own cock throbs, dripping between his thighs as his sucks desperately on Ritsu, his nails biting into that soft skin as an eager plea.

 

Ritsu, being himself, doesn’t bother warning Rei at all before spilling into his mouth, holding his head down with a demon’s iron strength, forcing him to accept every single drop. “Don’t spill any,” he murmurs, eyes gone hazy with lust. “Not a drop, I know you’re hungry.”

 

The noise Rei makes is almost the sound of gagging, but he chokes it down, swallowing repeatedly, rapidly at first, then slower, breathing raggedly through his nose as he obeys. His cheeks burn, ruddy and flushed from arousal and overstimulation, and he blinks a few times to clear the wet burn from his eyes as he pulls against Ritsu’s hands plaintively, letting his tongue lap carefully at his softening cock.

 

Ritsu's gripping hand turns gentle, stroking Rei's hair. “You did a good job,” he murmurs, then winds his foot to get it down to the chaise lounge, flopping over onto his side. “Thanks, I’m worn out. Goodni~ight.”

 

Rei, panting raggedly as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, growls. “Ritsuuuu,” he whines, pawing his way back up his body, nuzzling into his neck as his achingly hard cock rubs into the jut of one hip. “Be nice to me, I _know_ no one sucks your cock like I do…”

 

“Sleepy,” Ritsu mumbles, and kicks his brother in the head, though more gently than he would have half an hour ago. “You shouldn’t have done it so good if you didn’t want me to sleep after. I guess you’ll have to force me. Seems like the kind of thing a horrible demon lord would do.”

 

“You knooow I can’t feed or get off like that, don’t say that,” Rei groans, slithering up between Ritsu’s thighs as he mouths at his throat, up to his ear, sucking slowly on the lobe. “Let me put it in before you pass out, at least,” he murmurs, his hands sliding up Ritsu’s sides before thumbing over his nipples. “I’ll _die_.”

 

Ritsu’s eyes flicker open, as if (somehow) he isn’t really sleepy at all, and it had all been for show. He stretches slowly, then rubs his ass back against Rei’s cock, looking back over his shoulder. “I feel like it used to be bigger,” he says slowly, cocking his head. “Or am I remembering wrong?”

 

“Maybe you were just smaller.” Rei bends over him, mouth dragging own the back of Ritsu’s neck, nuzzling up into his hairline as his dripping cock slides against the cleft of Ritsu’s ass. “When,” he begins, voice breathless, “was the last time someone fucked _you_ properly?”

 

Despite his mental conviction to be strong and cool and not give in to his stupid, _stupid_ brother, Ritsu finds himself arching with a sigh, wriggling back into Rei’s sweet touch. “While ago,” he murmurs. “Everyone…Mao…they’re all good…but I have to be the boss, you know? Or it doesn’t get done the way that I want…And I already invested a really long time in training you.”

 

A shiver goes straight down Rei’s spine, and it’s a miracle he doesn’t spill. Instead, he bites into the curve of Ritsu’s shoulder, sucking on the pale skin there as his palm, suddenly slick with oil, drags down the length of his own cock. “Let me take care of you, then,” he breathes, the words sounding almost like a plea as the head of his cock rubs against that tight hole. A finger slides down, dragging over it, slick as it presses in to ease Ritsu open. “You’re so hot in here, maybe I’ll never leave.”

 

“Awful,” Ritsu groans, reaching out to grab a pillow, all for something to sink his nails and teeth into when Rei’s touch makes him want to thrash. “Awful, you’re _awful_ , like I’d…like I’d let you…”

 

Heat twists inside him, demanding, not to be ignored. He shrugs a little to himself, then wriggles back more, arching his back to present that pretty tight hole, swallowing Rei’s fingertip deeper. “At least thrust first, you asshole.”

 

“Don’t scold me, I know how to play with you.” Rei’s finger abruptly slides in deeper, long and reaching far beyond where Ritsu’s own touch can undoubtedly go as he curls and strokes. He’s tormenting Ritsu as much as himself at this point, with his own cock leaking against the back of Ritsu’s thigh. “It would be awful of me if I didn’t know,” he murmurs, gently biting the back of Ritsu’s neck. “ _You_ were supposed to be mine, weren’t you?”

 

Ritsu’s eyes squeeze closed. He remembers those times all too well, knowing that he was to be Rei’s, his to use, to discard, even to wed, as the demon world wasted little nothing in giving a function to the “spare” born after the “heir.” He buries his face in the pillow, embarrassed, and mutters, “I’ve always been yours for real, though…idiot. Get in me.”

 

Another sucking kiss, and Rei obeys, pulling out his hand to wrap it around his cock instead, guiding himself to that tight little hole. “Hearing you say that makes me want to remind you why,” Rei breathes, gritting his teeth as he eases the head of his cock inside, an eager thrust of his hips helping it sink in with Ritsu’s body stretching wide around it. “Fuck,” he eloquently groans, shifting his knees closer when he slides in almost entirely with just one thrust, bottoming out inside that hot, familiar body. “Fuck, Ritsu…”

 

“Trying,” Ritsu says, voice catching as his mouth falls open in bliss, squeezing down on that thick cock squeezing its way into him. “Nnh, you’re so…fuck, I can’t even be mean, just fuck meeee, if you don’t make it good I really _will_ tie you up and ride you until I’m crosseyed—“

 

Rei slides a hand up, fisting it into Ritsu’s hair to shove him down roughly into the sofa cushions as he thrusts in, hard enough that their skin slaps together with the sound making his cock _twitch_ inside. “Don’t keep making promises like that, little brother,” he rasps, each tight squeeze of Ritsu’s body around him making _his_ eyes cross when he shoves in, everything so slick and hot that it makes him pant heavily. “Or I’ll—ahh—never end up leaving you—“

 

Ritsu’s only response isn’t verbal. His whole body seizes up, every muscle tensing, and he reaches back, nails sinking in so deep to Rei’s shoulder that he has no choice but to understand the message, delivered in the only way their species knows how.

 

_Stay with me.._

 

_Or I’ll rip you apart._

 

The growl that escapes from Rei’s throat is muffled when he lunges forward, sinking his teeth into Ritsu’s neck, biting deeply and without warning. Just a taste of his brother’s blood is enough to make him shudder, eyes rolling back at the heady, overstimulating mix—Ritsu’s taste on his tongue, the sharp shred of those nails, the almost-painful clench of Ritsu’s body around his cock—

 

_Careful, I might like that._

 

He breaks away from Ritsu’s neck, panting shallowly, licking at his bloodied lower lip as his hips rock forward in a slow, but no less thorough grind. “Be sweet, love,” he rumbles, the words in the low, breathy hiss of Shadowtongue. “Let me have you how I want.”

 

Ritsu retracts his nails, a little reluctantly, and just grabs the bedding, using it as leverage to shove himself back against Rei’s body. “More,” he murmurs throatily, hardly noticing when his body starts to convulse, spilling in a flood over the sofa. “More, more, more, you’re where you belong, right? This—this is your real home, right?”

 

Rei’s answer is to grab Ritsu around the waist, hauling him back and onto his cock when he thrusts in. “For you to say things like that—you must’ve really missed me,” Rei breathlessly says, burying his face down into Ritsu’s shoulder, grunting as he fucks in, his cock sliding in deep even through the way Ritsu twitches and squirms. “You—nhh—better not be _done._ ”

 

He spills with a hiss of breath, his own nails biting into Ritsu’s skin, marking him outside as much as he does inside with pulse after pulse of his orgasm. He doesn’t exactly get soft, but he does slump forward over Ritsu’s back with a long, purring exhale, petting a hand down Ritsu’s spine. “I’ve been having the _best_ meals lately…”

 

“I don’t get done,” Ritsu mumbles, writhing like a snake under Rei, all lithe muscle stretched over bone, warm and soft and sated more and more with every stroke. “You can keep laying on me. Or keep fucking me. Or just take your time, whatever, I just like…” No, that’s too sweet, he can’t quite get that much out of his mouth.

 

“Mm? Don’t stop there, say it,” Rei murmurs, mouthing kisses up the back of Ritsu’s neck as he twists onto his side, pulling Ritsu back against his chest. “I want to keep spoiling you…gods, fucking you really does feel like coming home, what a good boy…”

 

Well, he _does_ like being spoiled.

 

Ritsu turns and shoves his mouth against Rei’s, long tongue slithering out of his mouth just to kiss him at a more comfortable angle, though he remembers not to do such things around his more human lovers. Rei won’t care. “Fine. I just like having you on me.”

 

Entirely unfazed, Rei nips at that tongue before kissing back, sucking on Ritsu’s lower lip before bending forward over him to shove his own tongue into Ritsu’s mouth with a pleased little rumble. “Then,” he murmurs, eyes lidding, “I’ll make sure to stay on you for awhile.”

 

He pauses, head tilting before there’s any sound or movement elsewhere, but sure enough, there’s the click and turn of the front door opening as if by a normal, human hand. “Did you give someone a _key?_ ” he asks, vaguely amused as he reaches a hand up to pinch one of Ritsu’s nipples. “You must re~ally like him.”

 

“Ritsu? Weren’t you supposed to meet me, you ass?” comes Izumi’s exasperated voice, more than a little out of breath from adjusting to the stranger, thinner air of the Shadowlands. He kicks the snow off of his boots before wandering down the short entry hall, and takes a step into the dimly lit room before stopping short, his cheeks slowly flushing pink. “Oh. Um…hello.”

 

“Long time no see, Izumi,” Rei greets, not batting an eye or moving from how he’s wrapped very intimately around Ritsu.

 

“You’re dead to me!” Ritsu moans, flopping down to the shadows, eyes heavy-lidded. “You tricked me. I felt someone coming and that’s how I accidentally let this monster in, kill him for me, my brave knight!”

 

“…That’s not like…super convincing when his dick’s still in you,” Izumi manages.

 

“Isn’t he adorable?” Rei gushes, snagging his arms more firmly around Ritsu to keep him from squirming away. “Your crush on him is very cute,” he whispers into Ritsu’s ear. “I can feel your magic do little flip-flops~”

 

Ritsu lets out a growl. “Useless fucking knight. Useless fucking wizard.” He snaps at Rei over his shoulder, and deliberately squeezes down, hard, harder than a human could have. “Izumiii, make yourself useful, get over here and stick your dick in my stupid brother’s mouth, it’s all he’s good for.”

 

“Mercy, mercy, _mercy,_ ” Rei whines, clawing at Ritsu’s hips as he rolls to crush him face-first into the blankets again. “Ritsu, be sweet! Ahh, you’re so cruel to meeee…”

 

Izumi’s mouth opens and shuts a few more times before he just throws a hand up, deciding he doesn’t _really_ care. Demons are demons, after all, and it’s not like he’s got a brother to compare the situation to, so—fuck it. He steps closer, and actually bothers looking at them both properly, which makes him stumble.

 

“That’s…so much more than in the human realm,” he abruptly says, mystified as he tilts his head back to look at the intricate overflow of Rei’s magic. Roots—it looks like _roots_ , black, smoky, _massive_ roots, spreading out and sprawling across the room, across the house, out of it to who knows where.

 

“Oh—yes, I actually get to stretch here,” Rei cheerfully says, giving Ritsu’s shoulder a little bite. “Even the Academy would find it troubling, I think…I’m proud of you, you can See so much more now.”

 

Ritsu gives his brother’s face a slap, not particularly gently, through one of the Shadow servants—or, more particularly, through a long hand that suddenly extends from one wall to _whap_ across Rei’s face, though not _that_ hard. “That was for being mean to him,” he says, muffled thoroughly into the pillow. “He said you keep failing him in classes. Look how strong he is, you’re fucking with his grades.”

 

Rei shivers hard, having to visibly shake off that slap and refocus afterwards. “To be fair,” he says, forcing himself to sit up with a hiss of effort, lest he just start _eating_ Ritsu right here and now. “He’s deserved to fail every single time. This is not a fair representation of what _I’ve_ seen.”

 

“Don’t stop on my behalf,” Izumi dryly says, tugging over a chair to drop back into it. “And…thanks, I guess? My magic’s been kind of weird over the past week, but it seems to be back to normal now…”

 

“It’s what you’ve been eating—or what you haven’t been eating.” Rei looks him up and down for a moment, then shakes himself off again like a dog shaking off a layer of water. “Ah. If I started with you, that would _never_ stop.”

 

“He doesn’t think you’re attractive,” Ritsu says, purely to fuck with his brother for getting off of him, knowing how much that accusation makes him defensive. “He’ll fuck all of your friends, but he’ll never touch you. Why is that, do you think? Ever wondered?”

 

“What? That’s not true! You’re beautiful,” Rei hastily reassures Izumi, who is already scowling quite a bit. “I just—you—our species don’t _really_ mesh well, magically…”

 

“Ritsu seems to think we do. And you’re brothers.” Lest they forget.

 

“That doesn’t mean Ritsu and I are the same _thing_ ,” Rei exasperatedly says, and flops back down atop Ritsu with a huff. “Stop teasing me, I’ll start crying.”

 

“Nnnnn, crushing….you’re too fat, I’ll die….”

 

“You’re the fat one, Ritsu,” Izumi sighs, trying not to be _too_ huffy about Rei not wanting to fuck him. It’s not like he cares. He definitely doesn’t care. He’s not folding his arms and sulking or anything, he’s just—annoyed.

 

“Don’t sulk, Izumi,” Rei gently says, propping his chin up atop the back of Ritsu’s head. “I’m being completely honest—I do think we might be in a bit of a magical bind if I lay hands on you. Maybe with Ritsu in the middle…” His eyes glaze a bit. “Or Shu.” _Or both._

 

Ritsu slowly turns his head to the side, then sinks his teeth into Rei’s neck, not even bothering to drink, just biting for the pleasure of it, and it is quite a pleasure. “You’re both bad. Get off me, I’m leaving for real. Me and Izumi have stuff to talk about.”

 

Rei hisses, the sound more at home from a feral cat than someone possessing a mostly human form, especially when combined with a warning snap of his own teeth. “Brat,” he mutters, pushing himself off of Ritsu for real this time, and scoops up his cloak one-handedly to wrap himself up as he climbs to his feet. “I’m going to bathe; call if you need me.”

 

With that, he strides away with all the regality of a king returned to his castle, and Izumi flops backwards, staring up at the strange, ever-changing ceiling. “I haven’t been here since I bloomed,” he realizes. “It’s…different.”

 

“It’s alive,” Ritsu says, knowing exactly what Izumi means. “It’s cute, right? Look, it likes you.” One of the shadow tendrils reaches out, caressing Izumi’s hair. “Sorry about the bug, by the way. I really thought it was you I was inviting in.”

 

“You two seem to be…getting along well.” Izumi eyes the little wisp of shadow, finally able to see the strange things that have always touched him out of nowhere in this place before. “This stuff is fine. Your brother’s, though—I don’t like that, how do you ignore things here?”

 

“Used to it,” Ritsu says glumly. “But…well…” He shrugs, stretching out languidly on the chaise lounge, until it transforms into a cushy armchair. “He has his uses, I guess. How was your trip?”

 

“Fast. Did you…know that he has a horse name Ritsu?”

 

“Yep. It’s faster and meaner than Bitch.” Ritsu grins. “They’re sisters.”

 

“What the fuck,” Izumi says, then shakes his head before he rises, slinking over to Ritsu’s chair to squeeze in next to him. “I…mm. Everything is a lot right now.”

 

Ritsu immediately wraps his arms and legs around Izumi, cuddling him close. “Sorry if I get his jizz on you, but I want to hold you right now. You look shook up.”

 

“Gross,” Izumi half-winces, half-laughs, unable to be anything but amused by the _weirdness_ of Rei and Ritsu combined. Even with that threat, he curls closer, draping his arms around Ritsu’s shoulders and nuzzling directly into his neck. “I just—don’t know what to make of anything anymore? My magic did a weird thing.”

 

“Is it the thing about how it’s all twisted in on itself?” Ritsu asks, brow furrowed as he gently strokes Izumi’s fine silvered hair. “You’re too pretty to be so upset, you should calm down.”

 

“I don’t know, I can’t see my own magic very well,” Izumi admits, flopping there and letting Ritsu pet him. Ritsu’s touch is as strangely cool as his own, and that’s soothing enough to make him go limp. “Specifically…it’s the innate stuff that did something weird. Out of the blue, I stopped automatically healing.”

 

“Yikes.” Ritsu’s voice is sympathetic, but not terribly surprised. “Yeah, you’re all twisted up, but you’ve got one root in good now, at least. You can feel it, I’m sure.”

 

“I don’t get what that _means_ ,” Izumi says, frustrated as he looks up at Ritsu through his lashes, a frown on his lips. “I…I did something _weird_ ,” he adds, cheeks flushing as he recalls it. “It was like having an intense craving—out of the blue, I crawled into bed with one of my men, and then I started healing again. Ugh, I even _bit him._ I’ve never done that to a human before, but it felt like…if I didn’t, I’d die.”

 

“Hmm…must be tied into your power somehow,” Ritsu says, frowning. “Right now, you look like a tree whose roots aren’t growing into the ground, they’re growing back all in on your own power, like you’re trying to drink from your own wellspring, it’s weird. I guess you could think of them as tentacles? It’s just little power arm guys. Most of them are all twisted up, but one of them is kind of okay, it’s dipping into your own wellspring. And you have basically an infinite supply of that because of your dad, but…it’s fucked up, I don’t know how you live like that.”

 

Izumi groans, his head dropping back down onto Ritsu’s shoulder. “Meeting my dad really didn’t help,” he sullenly says. “He just gave me a headache, and I feel like I can’t understand anything that he tried to teach me because my magic’s like this. Also, all he wanted to do was tell me how I’m having sex wrong.”

 

“If it helps, I’ve had sex with you,” Ritsu says seriously. “You aren’t doing it wrong. It’s pretty good.”

 

“Thanks,” Izumi wearily says, his pout increasing. “Apparently, I’m doing it wrong because I’m not sleeping with women, but okay.”

 

“Oh. I mean, that’s fun too,” Ritsu says, unconcerned at this. “I don’t know that much about drakes. Oh,” he says, as if something minor has just occurred to him, “I do have a friend here that’s half drake, if you wanted to meet him.”

 

Izumi’s head jerks up, confusion quickly passing over his face. “What? Since when?”

 

“I hired him to patrol my border with the North,” Ritsu says, nonplussed. “A few months ago. He’s the one who told me when you crossed the border. Pretty nice guy, for what that’s worth.”

 

“…How close a friend? Do you feed on him, too?” He’s not jealous. All right, he’d be a little bit jealous. Mostly, he’s grumpy.

 

“I guess you could call him an employee.” Ritsu pouts, and kicks Izumi deliberately in the leg. “I was starving myself because you were coming. Be nice. I haven’t fed in a month before today.”

 

“And you still didn’t jump me at all.” The pouting is mutual now. “You should feed then, idiot,” Izumi adds huffily, pulling his ponytail out of the way. “I swear I’m still tasty. I’m trying to fix it, I am.”

 

“My brother stuck his thigh in my mouth, so it’s not going to be as much as it should,” Ritsu says sadly. “He’s awful. And I’m weak for a nice pale femoral.”

 

“I’ll strip right now. You can bite my femorals all you want.”

 

Ritsu runs the tip of his tongue over his fang points. “I _could_ use dessert.”

 

“That’s better,” Izumi huffs, reaching down to unlace his breeches. “Have a drink, then talk to me about Shadowlands politics. I don’t know anything, but I think I should learn.”

 

Ritsu worms his way down, politely allowing Izumi to take off his pants, instead of shredding them with his fingernails the way he now wants to do as soon as Izumi starts showing skin. “Don’t talk politics when I’m hungry,” he says, stomach rumbling loudly despite his gluttonous feeding less than an hour earlier. “There’s always room for drake.”

 

“I wish everyone thought so,” Izumi admits with a breathy laugh, swallowing hard as he tries to stop himself from squirming when Ritsu slithers down. He kicks his pants off entirely, sliding a hand through Ritsu’s hair. “However much you want is fine,” he quietly says.

 

Ritsu pauses, though he’s pretty sure it nearly kills him, and his tongue quests out, licking slowly up the big flat area of Izumi’s thigh. “I think…I’d better be kinda gentle about it,” he says, hesitating. “You’ve only got one source going. What if I take too much? I’m not giving you a transfusion, that’s not very sexy.”

 

Izumi groans, flopping backwards and giving Ritsu’s hair a little tug. “You’re tormenting me on purpose now,” he says, hearing himself whine. “Please? It’ll be fine, I’ll…I’ll figure it out.”

 

“You’re just lucky I’m not _that_ hungry,” Ritsu finally mutters, and strikes, teeth sinking deep as he sighs in absolute pleasure, drinking deeply from his favorite ice candy.

 

It’s always a rush when Ritsu bites, but today, it feels like that tenfold—for whatever reason. Izumi sinks back with a ragged, panting exhale of air, his fingers scraping against Ritsu’s scalp as his legs splay wider on their own accord. “It’s fine if you are,” he whispers, eyes lidding. “It’s…mnn…always makes everything feel better…when you drink.”

 

“My brother is so fucking stupid,” Ritsu breathes, pulling back to lap over Izumi’s skin, then changes to the other thigh, licking at it in preparation. “Let me know if you start feeling cold in a bad way. Nn, you’re so _tasty_ , it’s more now…”

 

Izumi shivers, his skin twitching underneath the drag of Ritsu’s tongue, pleased goosebumps following in its wake. “N-no, it’s good,” he murmurs, his eyes fluttering. “I think…you’re underestimating how _much_ I fucked this one Northern guy.”

 

“If it’s him I’m tasting on you,” Ritsu says bluntly, letting his fangs flash out, “he’s the tastiest son of a bitch I know.” Then he sinks in deep again, moaning against Izumi’s skin, being surprisingly delicate as he feels those lovely frosty flavors leap into his mouth.

 

Izumi’s breath catches, and he chokes on a whimper, his nails dragging down the back of Ritsu’s neck as he arches in spite of himself, panting out a hot breath before he sags back, getting himself underneath control. “I…ah…thought you only thought drakes were that t-tasty…”

 

He trails off, a thought suddenly occurring to him, and he lets it flip around in his head as Ritsu drinks, the sounds of his swallowing rather soothing. “Are all Northerners…descended from drakes, somehow?” he absently thinks aloud. “Maybe that’s why I was craving it so badly…like how I craved Yuukun sometimes, too, even before I knew we were bonded…”

 

Once he’s had his fill, Ritsu pulls back, laving the skin with his tongue, catching a few drops at least before the holes close up. “They’ve got to be,” he says, thinking. He squirms back, rubbing his belly, now pleasantly distended. “I mean, the North isn’t that big, and it’s been visited by the drakes for thousands of years. Unless you have some lore about, like…one family that’s always kept to itself and bred only with itself for a thousand years, yeah, probably all Northerners are at least part drake. I do know that every good damn healer wizard that wasn’t Wavebred from the last millennium came from the North.”

 

“That’s probably why I kept wanting to fuck him in the snow, too,” Izumi idly says, stroking Ritsu’s hair absently as he thinks. “That’s really strange. Interesting, but strange. I suppose that gave me a nice boost, but…how long can that really sustain me? My father seems to think I need to fuck women all the time, and that’s…I don’t like it.”

 

“I dunno. You’re gonna have to ask drakes about that, I bet, or my guard.” Ritsu butts up into Izumi’s touch, highly affectionate. “Bradei is his name. He’s a little funny sometimes, but he’s a good guy. Want me to call him off shift? Or you can go to him, but not yet, I still have stuff to tell you and I’m tasting you now.”

 

“Not right now, I don’t want to talk to anyone that isn’t you,” Izumi admits, tugging Ritsu back up against him, and immediately shifting to wrap all four limbs around him. “I spoke to Mao recently, you know.”

 

Ritsu’s expression suddenly turns as fragile as spun glass. “Is he…did he ask about me? Is he doing all right?”

 

“He always asks about you,” Izumi huffs, stroking his fingers slowly down Ritsu’s back, counting the vertebrae in his spine. “He’s the reason I wanted to come see you, he suggested it.”

 

Warmth suddenly emanates from Ritsu at that, and he nuzzles into Izumi’s chest, purring a bit. “Good. He didn’t bring that old guy, did he?” he asks hypocritically, being himself approximately twice Keito’s age.

 

“No, but I told him he was gross for liking old men,” Izumi mildly says. “He’s retired now, you know. The Academy is much better without him, I think.”

 

“Good. He’s taking care of him, at least, I guess, so I probably won’t kill him just yet.” If he and Mao were living in the same country, now, that would be something. “Go on, ask your questions before I get too comfy now that I’m seriously well-fed.”

 

“Mao told me about the things coming into the North. Well—my father told me some first, then Mao filled out the rest. He told me there’s…some kind of a gate that they’re coming out of, and that closing it is…pretty much impossible?” Izumi exhales a slow breath, his finger stilling against Ritsu’s back. “He told me that instead of trying to fight them or stop them, I should consider working out a treaty with them.”

 

“A treaty. With the Drude.” Ritsu huffs, his bangs ruffling in the wind from it. “I love him, but he’s a big dummy. Reeeeei? Big brother, come in here.”

 

“Well,” Izumi hedges, “I think specifically he meant the archdemons, but…”

 

Languidly, Rei drifts his way back into the room, half-dressed and still flushed and dripping from a very hot bath. “When you call me by name, I’ll always be at your beck and call,” he breezily says, draping himself over the back of their shared chair. “What can I do for you, Ritsu? Ah, your face is so full of color, you must have had a nice drink.”

 

“Tasty ice candy,” Ritsu confirms, licking his lips. “I don’t know that much about the you-know-what, but you do, right? I just know the fairy tales. Even here, we don’t see D-words very often.”

 

“Ahhh. Right, we don’t like to say even species names here, just so you’re aware,” Rei mildly warns Izumi, dropping himself down into a chair that appears as he flops down. “Once in awhile is fine, but after that…it’s touchy. Those kinds of creatures even archdemons don’t like to toy with; they’re kept in cages, on leashes, that sort of thing. Gross little rats, all of them.”

 

“They don’t really have self-will, right?” Ritsu asks, trying to remember what he knows, what he’s heard. “Or they used to, and it was tortured out of them? I forget which one is which.”

 

“They latch onto the will of whatever creature they’ve decided to follow after,” Rei clarifies, leaning back with his hands folded into his lap. “They have no real personality, drive, or…anything, of their own. The way they survive is entirely through other creatures, and by doing so, they slowly drain away that person’s self. Their memories, their magic, if they have it, or they become so intertwined within their life that they might even become that person’s lover…no matter if that person already has one. They’re scavengers, to sum them up.”

 

“So…for one to cling to an archdemon—that’s why it’s so bad,” Izumi assumes. “But to what benefit? If they’re scavengers, why would someone _want_ that trailing after them?”

 

“Oh, the temporary power that they bring about is more than just substantial. If you’re an archdemon, you can expect an _exponential_ increase in your abilities, which are already…troubling, to say the least. If you have a pact with a creature like, you can also send it off to do your bidding, and if it’s sworn to you temporarily, you’ve basically got one hell of an assassin that will do _anything_ so long as you keep feeding it.”

 

“They’re really hard to kill,” Ritsu agrees. “There’s an old demon nightstory about how it took the twelve greatest demons all working together to drive the species back into the Everdark. And the twelve great ones…I mean, from everything I’ve heard, they’re basically on par with the gods the humans like so much. That was them on their own, but if this one is sealed to an archdemon?”

 

Ritsu whistles, a low note that doesn’t sound very hopeful. “But you can’t bargain with it, not at all. You’d have to bargain with the one that brought it, or you have to kill it.”

 

“It’s actually even worse than it being sealed to an archdemon,” Rei wearily says. “It’s sealed to an archdemon that’s _bonded_ to another archdemon, _and_ they’re all friends of the previous Emperor.”

 

Izumi’s lips press into a thin line, his fingers stilling in their petting of Ritsu. “How am I supposed to bargain with something like that?” he quietly says. “I don’t want to be associated with that at all.”

 

“I’m not sure why you ever would want to—or if you did, how you even could.”

 

“Mao mentioned something about it.”

 

Rei tries not to grimace. “Ah, he does like to think positively, doesn’t he? I think this is beyond a treaty. Archdemons in and of themselves…aren’t exactly wise to bargain with.”

 

“Just kill it,” Ritsu says again, a little more irritated this time. “I told you you couldn’t reason with it. It doesn’t _want_ anything from you, it was sent to kill you, and there’s nothing you can do to break its contract short of killing it. I think.” A thought occurs to him, and he gnaws on his lip, splitting it open, then healing it almost unconsciously. “I mean, I guess technically there’s one other way, but I think it would be way easier just to kill it.”

 

“I’d love to kill it,” Izumi flatly says, “but I think that’s outside of my realm of expertise. Rei here had a hard enough time murdering the last archdemon, and didn’t even finish the job, so now he’s trying to wriggle his way back—but please, tell me the other idea you had.”

 

“I’m wondering who told you that,” Rei mildly says, reaching over for his previously abandoned cup of tea, which reheats upon being touched. “But yes, go on, Ritsu.”

 

Ritsu shrugs. “Any bond can be overwritten, right? It’s…” He looks between Rei and Izumi, and scowls at them both. “Come on. You have to know that, everyone knows it. If you can thrall the, the thing, stronger than its bond with its master, it’ll be yours.” He grins, showing teeth. “Bet you wish you’d paid more attention during school, huh? This isn’t the kind of shit just any wizard can do.”

 

“Oh, but I don’t want it,” Rei says with a wrinkle of his nose, sipping his tea. “That’s why I’m not even counting that as an option. They’re mean and won’t let go even if you kick their thrall to the curb. Also, they start leeching off of your bonded if they’re done sucking _you_ dry through the thrall—I won’t let that thing near Shu. No, I’d rather try to kill archdemons any day.”

 

“But killing archdemons—that’s easier said than done, obviously,” Izumi neutrally says. “I understand not wanting to try that in your case, and in Ritsu’s. But maybe someone else without a bond can?”

 

Rei takes another sip of his tea. “That’s _probably_ what Mao was suggesting when he spoke to you.”

 

Izumi’s mouth drops open. “What? But—“

 

“I mean, he doesn’t like you. Demonstrably. He probably wants it to eat you.”

 

Ritsu beams, more than halfway to gloating. “That’s Mao,” he confirms. “Really devious. And totally without a conscience, I think that makes him extra good. But big brother, you’re a dumb fuck. I wasn’t suggesting that _you_ thrall or kill the thingie. You’re not the only half-human wizard here, you know. And only one of us is a pretty good candidate for being able to access the North’s latent powers.”

 

“He’s untrained,” Rei points out without batting an eye.

 

“Wait—what the fuck, actually?” Izumi interjects, entirely disbelieving. “Ritsu, you can’t possibly be _agreeing_ with this idea? Do you want me to die? I thought you’d be more upset with Isara for even suggesting—what the fuck, do any of you have souls?”

 

Ritsu batts his eyelashes at Izumi. “We are demons, you know,” he reminds him, with just a hint of a smile. “But if I didn’t think you were strong enough, I wouldn’t have suggested it. And I’m not _agreeing_ , you just asked what your options were. That’s one of them. Two, I guess. What are you planning on doing against it?”

 

“I…I don’t know,” Izumi admits, sitting back with a huff. “When Isara suggested negotiating with them, I thought he meant _politically_ —like trade deals and things like that to make them stop trying to eat everyone, like what you and I did.”

 

“Adorable. Archdemons are uncultured swine, they don’t have a tenth of the ability to think and reason like we do,” Rei says with a snort. “And with a scavenger creature latched to their backs, it’s even more unlikely. Ritsu, you’re welcome to teach him a few things, if you think yourself capable. I’d sort out his magic first, though…”

 

“I’ve been trying,” Izumi snaps, irritated. “According to my father, it’s like this because I won’t have sex with women.”

 

“Oh. I mean, understandable, but there are solutions to everything.”

 

“I hate when you’re vague. Both of you do that.”

 

Ritsu shrugs. “I dunno what he’s talking about,” he says bluntly. “If a drake says you need to fuck women to untangle your magic, you should do it. But my brother’s right, Izumi. You can’t bargain with it. There’s nothing it wants. Also, it sort of doesn’t have anything to trade except that it’ll stop killing your folks. If you tried to make a deal like that with anything from the Shadowlands, it’ll see you as weak and attack immediately. Like, if they hit you, and you pay it to stop hitting you, what’s going to stop it in the future if it wants more money?”

 

“I hate this,” Izumi says with a long, frustrated exhale, flopping backwards and rubbing both hands over his face. “I was raised to be a _human lord_ , not some demon thralling wizard… _thing_.”

 

“It’s difficult to have everything you want in life,” Rei says, unfazed by Izumi’s whining. “I wanted to be a gardener, look at me now.”

 

Izumi shoots him a sour look through his fingers, then looks to Ritsu plaintively. “I don’t want _more_ heirs. I already made too many. If I start fucking women again, that just makes things complicated. I mean—on top of all the other things I don’t want to deal with when it comes to women, ugh…”

 

“Just show him your tits at some point, Ritsu,” Rei patiently says. “At any rate, once you sort your magic out, it can’t hurt for you to be trained a bit more here. The Shadowlands is a much more forgiving landscape for half-bloods…and it appears as though your father already clicked a few more pieces into place for you, so that was nice of him.”

 

Ritsu lays a gentle hand on Izumi’s face. “No one is raised a wizard,” he reminds him. “That’s the worst thing, you know? But your complaining is kind of cute, so I guess that’s okay. You can do it, but don’t think anyone is going to feel sorry for you. I wanted to be a knight. Quit complaining that all women love you and you want to have sex with them but it’s _complicated_. Do it with me, if you want. He’s right, I have great tits.”

 

“…If this is another shape-shifty thing that you can do, I’m not sure I really believe you, or that it counts?” Izumi huffs, glancing down. “It _is_ complicated. It’s fine if you don’t get it. I still wish you could just…rip this magic out of me and use it yourself, if it’s so good or useful or whatever.”

 

“It counts. A woman’s body is a woman’s body. But more importantly,” Rei absently butts in, leaning to the side to rest his chin in one hand, “I could seal those memories for you. Or at least mute them. It would make your life much easier, I imagine.”

 

Izumi stares for a moment, and his expression filters through unsure, to nervous, to mortified, then to outright frustration as he turns back to Ritsu. “He’s just _in_ my head here, isn’t he. I hate that so, _so_ much.”

 

“I’m not in your head, you’re projecting, and I don’t have much say in what filters over to—“

 

“Ritsu, promise me you’ll eat him some day.”

 

“I’m going to eat both of you in a minute,” Ritsu mutters grumpily. “Dumbass brother. Didn’t you cause enough trouble messing with people’s brains? I heard you got in a lot of trouble with your white pet.

 

“But more importantly, tell Izumi properly about the Sorrow’s Gate. He has a right to know.”

 

“I was scolded, if that counts in being in a ‘lot of trouble,’” Rei sniffs, his expression unchanging. “I’m only trying to help. As for Sorrow’s Gates—now, _that_ will spoil a good mood.”

 

“If it could help me in any way, I want to know,” Izumi quietly says. “I’ve barely been told anything by Isara. If you want me to even consider dealing with intensely evil things that want to kill me and slurp on my life energies in the meantime, I think it’s pretty fair for me to know all the details involved.”

 

Rei glances over to Ritsu, studying him. _You_ want _me to bring up this story?_ “…how sure are you that you don’t have a double-bond, Ritsu? Should I be requesting an arranged marriage between you and the scion of the North?”

 

Ritsu scowls at him, and reaches out to stick a finger into his brother’s ear. “You should just tell him things without making me mad at you, why do you always have to do that? It’s like you like it when I beat you up. You probably do. Weird.”

 

His eyes slowly close at Izumi. “Besides, the scion of the North is definitely already promised. A couple times over, can’t you feel it?”

 

“If you’re going to fuck my ear, at least do it with your dick,” Rei whines, batting Ritsu’s hand away half-heartedly. “Ritsu, I love you, don’t be angry with me. Beat me up without that sentiment. Ah, but yes, I can absolutely smell how many people want a piece; that doesn’t mean _you_ shouldn’t join the fight.”

 

“Fight?” Izumi exasperatedly says. “There’s no _fight_. Look, I’m at the point that if an arranged marriage _will_ fix any of this, I’ll do it—I just don’t want anyone to die.”

 

“Who knows,” Rei says breezily. “Ahh, where to start…perhaps with back in the day, the previous Emperor and I were…well, I wouldn’t say we were close, but we got along well enough. We both had similar plans, and wanted to remake the Academy into something great again. It had fallen into decline, disallowing mixed blood of any detectable kind, only pandering to humans and paladins and the crown, and so…to make a long story short, we killed _that_ Emperor together. We were supposed to be in charge jointly, but…don’t trust archdemons, basically. The previous Emperor took his throne, decided Tsumugi was a delightful pet, as was Wataru, and I wanted less and less to do with him, so I took off—until the Sorrow’s Gate in the West split open.”

 

“You ever heard about that from Arashi?” Ritsu asks, head cocked. “Probably not. I mean, it happened in his Dominance, but I’ve asked him about other stuff in the West, and he’s never heard of any of it. I don’t think they actually have schools in the West. But I lived down there for a while, and most people know. There’s a spot, over the mountains, that used to be a pretty big country, called Last Hope. That’s where the gate opened, last time.”

 

“I was in High Harbor when that happened,” Rei says, wincing a bit at the memory. “The gate there—that cracked, but I managed to seal it before heading West. The previous Emperor, an archdemon at his peak, wasn’t even strong enough to close it by himself, so he had no choice but to contact me. By the time I got there…”

 

Rei pauses, leaning back. “By the time I arrived…the place was overrun with creatures from the Shadowlands. Demons of all kinds, creatures, Inglings. There was no other option to push them back than to destroy all of them, and use our combined strength to place a seal. The entire countryside was gone. Every single last human was…dead isn’t the word. Gone, is more accurate. Closing that thing was the reason why the previous Emperor was weak for the rest of his existence here; he used up everything he could draw from. And yes—you _did_ meet him when he was weak.”

 

Ritsu shivers, even the distance of long time past not enough to insulate him from the images those words evoke. “I only heard about it secondhand,” he says softly. “But it was enough to scare the hell out of me as a kid. And…”

 

His mouth twists, as if the next words are paining him, as badly as chewing ice chips in reverse to get them out. “And it was a fucking phenomenal piece of spellwork to close it. They used to tell stories about you two, up here. That’s half the reason they made him King up here.”

 

It’s bittersweet to hear the compliment, judging by the way Rei forces a smile. “The other half was that they were terrified I’d keep killing them if they didn’t,” he softly says. “They don’t like me here. I’m a human sympathizer, I won’t let them feed properly, I want them all to die—name it, they’ve got a criticism for it, even though I’m more creature than human. But…the point remains. We managed to close it, and it nearly killed him, and I was useless for months. This is the sort of thing…I’m terrified that it’s happening again, and with such force behind it this time.”

 

“Okay,” Ritsu says softly, putting a hand over Rei’s mouth. “That’s enough. Stop scaring him. He’s trying to look like he’s not scared, but be sweet to him, yeah? I love him a lot. Tell him what he can do.”

 

“I’m not scared,” Izumi defensively says, even though he’s rather wide-eyed and pale.

 

“Sorry.” Rei reflexively licks Ritsu’s hand, then pushes it down, heaving a sigh. “It took a long while before the gates opened last time,” he says. “This isn’t going to happen overnight, but if we want to stop it…thralling the scavenger would be a good start. It would take away a huge source of the archdemon’s power. They’re _not_ as strong as the previous Emperor. They can’t possibly be. But there are two of them, plus that thing, and that makes it difficult.”

 

“I don’t know _what_ I’m doing,” Izumi quietly says, shaking his head. “The idea of messing something that scary up—“

 

“Ritsu’s going to help you. He’s the only person I haven’t brought in to help with your magic, and he knows you better than I do, besides.”

 

Ritsu waves a little, with the hand Rei had licked, and doesn’t bother to wipe it off. “Hi. He’s forgetting to mention the fact that I’m also much better at deliberate use of innate magic than he is. He’s stronger, I _guess_ ,” he admits, with the begrudging tone of a little brother who never likes to admit an obvious truth, “but he’s kind of a shitty wizard, Emperor or no. He never even graduated. I did, with honors. Somehow. I can teach you better than the teachers there can, none of them are half-bloods.”

 

“Wait, _wait_ ,” Izumi hurriedly interrupts, his face twisting in disbelief. “He never even _graduated?_ How are you the—“

 

“The Emperor? Ah, luck and chance?” Rei sweetly says, entirely unfazed. “Shu is far more suited for the job, I agree. Ritsu’s not wrong, I’m a terrible wizard. There’s very little about logical, textbook innate magic _or_ anything spell-based that actually functions with the mess I’ve been born with. Ritsu, however, is brilliant with all of that sort of thing.”

 

“I’m…I’m still stuck on the fact that you’re a drop-out. Does Shu know?”

 

“Unimportant. I’m giving you a wonderful present in my little brother, you know.”

 

“He likes to say that he’s not suited for deliberate magic,” Ritsu says breezily. “He’s just lazy, though. My sire was as boring as his, we’re made of the same demon clay.”

 

Then he butts his head against Izumi’s shoulder. “You’re grateful, right? You want me to come help you, right?”

 

“It’s the shitty nymph blood,” Rei huffily retorts. “You’re _truly_ half-human, that’s such a lovely stabilizer.”

 

“…Of course I’m grateful,” Izumi manages, reaching up to automatically pet Ritsu’s hair. “I mean…I’ve always understood things better when you’ve explained them in the past? So maybe this will really help.”

 

“First things first, go sleep with a woman,” Rei says forwardly. “Ritsu’s not going to be able to do much until you do. Goodness, I can’t imagine what that’s like, my apologies.”

 

“He’s not wrong,” Ritsu says with a shrug. “You want to try it with me? See if it works?” His form blurs and shifts, skin stretching, bones popping and crackling underneath, muscles thinning and rearranging, hair lengthening, until he sits himself, but with pert little tits.

 

Rei exhales a decidedly displeased sound as he climbs to his feet, taking his teacup with him. “Enjoy yourselves, I can’t be here.”

 

A snide comment lingers on the tip of Izumi’s tongue, dying as his eyes immediately, uselessly drop to Ritsu’s chest. That sure is a reaction he hates having even now, damn it. “I mean,” he helplessly says. “You _do_ make a really cute girl.”

 

Ritsu firmly grabs his own tits, squeezing them together, shimmying a little up and down. “Huh. Bigger than the last time I shifted. Maybe I’m getting fat? Oh, I probably just metabolized that nice yummy meal you gave me earlier.”

 

Izumi sucks in a breath, tries to resist, _tries_ to, tries not to act like a damned animal, but—it’s Ritsu, Ritsu as a _girl_ , no strings attached, he’s a wizard, for fuck’s sake, he can’t even _get_ pregnant—

 

So maybe he’s more than a little relieved, and that’s what sends him launching forward and pinning Ritsu flat onto his back in one fell swoop.

 

“You look _perfect_ ,” he breathes, his eyes already slitted as he sucks on the side of Ritsu’s neck, his hands immediately going to grab handfuls of Ritsu’s breasts, giving them a slow, appreciative squeeze as his thumbs drag over his nipples.

 

Ritsu’s mouth falls open, and he shivers a little, splaying back on the lounge, a bit more demurely than he does as a man, just because it feels fun to contort the lithe curves of this body, letting smooth skin rub against smooth skin. “How long has it been?” he asks, eyes glowing a little, his body rippling hungrily under Izumi’s touch. “Since you’ve had a girl all spread out under you, wanting to take you in home…”

 

“I don’t want to think about that,” Izumi groans, having to shut his eyes for a moment, his head thunking down against Ritsu’s shoulder. His hands drag down, stroking over Ritsu’s skin, fingers trembling a little as they drag over his hips. “Sorry—sorry, just, let me touch you for a minute, or I…”

 

“I’m in no hurry.” Ritsu pets languidly through Izumi’s hair, stretching out comfortably. “I’m already pretty satisfied, you know. I fed real good. Just take it at your pace or cuddle me.” _See, idiot brother? I can be sweet._

 

Izumi shudders, and slumps down, burying his face down into Ritsu’s neck. “I haven’t even _touched_ a girl in…eight years?” he manages with a ragged, almost manic little laugh. “And you…are so beautiful, I think I might die.”

 

“Yeah, I’m gorgeous,” Ritsu says frankly. “My whole family is pretty hot. Is this doing it for you? Life’s hard for the folks with lots of tastes and a faithful tongue, huh?”

 

“Please keep being nice to me, I’m trying to convince myself that if I fuck you, I’m not going to die.”

 

That admission is so raw and open that Ritsu blinks. “I…I’m no good at mind magic,” he says slowly. “I can call my brother back in, if you want. I’m still me, you know?”

 

“No—no, gods, I don’t want him in my head, he scares the hell out of me,” Izumi hurriedly admits, curling his arms around Ritsu in a nervous attempt to not give up and have a full-blown panic attack. _It’s just Ritsu, it’s fine, damn it._

 

“Shh. Shh, your mind is loud and you’re being dumb,” Ritsu says softly, petting his head. “We don’t have to do anything, you know? Your hand isn’t going to fall off from touching me. Just rest your head on my boobs, they’re a great pillow. Want me to tell you a story?”

 

Still shaky, Izumi nods, even as he slithers down a bit more to bury his face directly into Ritsu’s chest. “Gods, they’re _so_ good,” comes his muffled whimper.

 

This is a satisfactory response, Ritsu decides, and shifts, getting more comfortable when it looks like he’ll just be lying here for a while. “You ever heard the one about the three little demons of fate and the really big basket? My wife used to love that one.”

 

“Your wife. The Western one or the Eastern one?” Izumi still feels himself vibrating, but he’s not dead yet, so that’s a plus.

 

“The Western one. Laila.” Ritsu’s mouth curves in wistful remembrance. “Did I tell you she passed away? I do miss her.”

 

“You mentioned it. I’m sorry.” Izumi’s breath escapes as a hitching little huff against Ritsu’s skin. “I still can’t believe _you’ve_ been married.”

 

“Twice.” Ritsu shrugs, and brushes a kiss along Izumi’s hairline. “When you know you’re going to live for a really long time,” he says softly, knowing it’s a touchy subject, “there’s an instinct to hold something of yourself back from other people, you know? Like to keep from being close to them, because you don’t think they’ll be around forever. Well, you’re right. They won’t. And it sucks. But if you let them go without loving them as fully as possible, you’ll regret it forever. And forever for you is a really long time.”

 

“I don’t like that.” Izumi’s voice is quiet, almost petulant. “Especially when there _should_ be magical ways to keep people alive, if you really like them.”

 

“Fall in love with other immortals. Or, I don’t know, you’re a healer, maybe you can.” Ritsu shrugs. “You have a crazy amount of potential, you know that? I can see it. I’m good at seeing stuff like that. Once your magic is all unkinked…you’ve definitely got powers you don’t even know about yet.”

 

“That scares the hell out of me,” comes Izumi’s eventual, soft response, his face shoved more thoroughly into Ritsu’s tits. “I really don’t like thinking about being immortal. What if _everyone_ I love dies? You can still die, can’t you?”

 

“Dunno. Never have yet.”

 

“Answer that seriously. Can your brother die?”

 

Ritsu scowls at him. “Yeah. And I can too, probably. But we don’t really age, so we just have to be kind of careful. And we’re a lot stronger than humans, of course, and just get stronger the older we get. Most half-bloods do.”

 

“That’s the only reason I’d want to be creepy and strong—to keep Arashi and Leo around,” Izumi miserably says. “Saving the world is good and all, but I just want to be happy, mostly.”

 

Ritsu shrugs. “Doesn’t bother me. I think that’s everyone, really. Why would you want to save the world if not so you can live happy in it? I think martyrs are even doing the same thing. Their definition of what makes them happy is just dumber.”

 

“…You’re so good.” Izumi tightens his grasp on Ritsu, hugging him tightly. “Sorry. I know I’m being dumb. You just need to be told that.”

 

“Hey, I love being praised,” Ritsu complains, winding his own arms around Izumi, probably more times than human arms could circle. “It’s all I want, really. Keep doing it.”

 

Izumi squashes the little well of nerves that threatens to bubble up, and just squeezes Ritsu again, his fingers curling against his back. “When you haven’t fed in awhile, do you feel…itchy, almost? It’s not like normal, human hunger, it’s—it’s so much worse. Everyone else just thinks I’m being a moody wretch.”

 

“Yeah. Like being empty,” Ritsu agrees. “But not like being drained. More like you got all scooped out inside, with jagged edges left behind, and all the raw parts of yourself are rubbing against each other. And it hurts, if you let it get to that point.”

 

“That’s—that’s what it feels like all the time. It has for years. I…started noticing it more, when I had to go to the Academy, but…even more, recently.” Izumi’s voice drops. “I don’t want to keep feeling like this. I just…I really suck at moving on, I guess.”

 

“Moving on?” Ritsu strokes a finger up and down Izumi’s spine, brow slightly furrowed. “Am I getting it wrong? I thought all of this was about that thing that happened to you in the Sandlands, like ten years ago.”

 

“Yeah. And trying to forget about that is easier said than done,” Izumi grouses, staring up from Ritsu’s chest through his lashes. “Also…I…don’t know if I should keep _trying_ to be with…you know, normal people. Like Leo. I think about it all the time, and about _him_ all the time, and—and sometimes, it doesn’t matter who I’m climbing in bed with, it’s not him so it doesn’t…help. But he’s not my bonded, so that shouldn’t happen, right? I feel like I’m going insane.”

 

“You know that bonds and love aren’t the same thing, right?” Ritsu asks, sitting up a little. “Here, rest your head on my thigh or something, it’s nice. But…you know love isn’t just some bullshit word that humans made up, right? Like, it’s a real thing. It’s a really real thing that has more to do with magic than it does with emotions, especially with people like us.”

 

“It’s never affected the way I _feed_ before,” Izumi bemoans, slithering down to do just that, burying his face down into the soft skin of Ritsu’s thighs. “How can it be so magic based? Wouldn’t more people use that to their advantage? I know these are probably stupid questions, please just humor me.”

 

Ritsu shrugs. “It’s not that common. I’ve been alive a long time, you know? But I’ve only seen the real, magic kind of love a few times.” He hesitates for a long moment, then asks, very softly, “Can I tell you a secret?”

 

“Please.” Izumi twists, laying flat onto his back to peer up at Ritsu, and reaches up to brush his fingers across one, pale cheek. “Is it about how pretty you are?”

 

“No. It’s not a good secret,” Ritsu mutters, turning away, feeling suddenly vulnerable. “Promise you won’t tell anyone. Swear it on the king’s life.”

 

“I promise. I swear on Leo’s life.” Izumi pushes himself up onto an elbow, frowning now. “Do I need to kill someone? I will.”

 

“I don’t have a resonant bond with Mao.”

 

“ _What?_ ” Izumi shoots up the rest of the way, staring back at him. “Since when? _How?_ ”

 

Ritsu feels his face flush, and he grabs a robe from the back of the lounge, appearing as soon as he wants it, using it to cover his face. “Since always. I faked it. With magic. I think he knows, though. I just…fuck. I just didn’t want him to leave me.”

 

Izumi’s mouth falls open, then shuts again, and he spares a wary glance down the hallway Rei had disappeared down. “Does your brother—I mean, of course he knows, how could he not, I guess,” he exhales, reaching for Ritsu to pull him close again. “If I knew how to do that…I’d probably do it, too,” he quietly admits. “So if you want me to scold you or whatever, you’re talking to the wrong person.”

 

All of the tension goes out of Ritsu at once, and he grabs at Izumi, nails out, grabbing him in a fierce, sudden kiss. “I love you, too, you know,” he says, voice intense, heated. “So much. You’re so good, you deserve everything.”

 

Izumi’s lips part, and he swallows hard, the sudden rush that follows making his mind blank out for a moment—then another moment, and another, before he lurches forward, grabs Ritsu’s face up into his hands, and kisses him again, hard, shoving him back against the arm of the sofa as he crawls up between those soft thighs.

 

Well, that’s not how he’d intended to get Izumi into this situation, but good enough.

 

Ritsu goes with it, because he _loves_ it when Izumi gets so passionate, and he wraps his arms and legs around him, only momentarily startled when it’s his own breasts that press against Izumi’s chest, rather than a flat chest. He at least manages to retract his nails before raking them down Izumi’s back, but his body rouses, deep down. _Is this how his magic affects women? They don’t stand a chance._

 

Izumi’s teeth catch on Ritsu’s lower lip, sucking on it as his hands drag down to cup the swell of Ritsu’s ass, pulling him up against him as he kisses that soft mouth again, _again._ This body is far softer than the one he’s used to pressing up against, but that’s…unfortunately such a good thing that it makes him groan helplessly, and dig his own nails into that soft skin as he breaks from Ritsu’s mouth with a gasp. “You don’t…have to put your nails away,” he pants out. “Or your teeth, both are…both are good.”

 

“I’m being nice,” Ritsu groans in protest, arching his back, letting his legs fall open. A stray thought later, and the chair turns into a low, comfortable sex bench, the kind with fun little risers and bumps and wedges at interesting locations, the kind that no one in the human realm would even know what to do with, but that supports him perfectly as he wraps his legs around Izumi’s waist. “You should touch my cunt,” he says bluntly, already squirming under Izumi’s hands, the feel of his strong, firm body.

 

“But you don’t have to be nice, everything heals up nice and fast, remember?” Izumi breathes, mouth dragging to Ritsu’s neck where he bites, gently, then sucks on the mark left behind with a shivery little exhale. His fingers tremble, a brief, nervewracking burst of anxiety almost making him lose focus again before he just shoves his face down into Ritsu’s tits, mouth briefly closing around a nipple before he slithers down. He doesn’t let himself hesitate—if he does, that’s it, he’d rather die—before he simply buries his face between Ritsu’s legs, mouthing a kiss into the dark, soft hair before his tongue drags up, hot and wet against the little nub there.

 

Ritsu arches, back forming an arc that’s nearly a “C,” as he gasps hard at the first touch of Izumi’s mouth. He grabs Izumi’s hair, letting his nails out a bit, holding him down as he squirms, tensing and shivering with every tiny motion of Izumi’s mouth. “Fuuuuuck, you have a nice mouth,” he breathes, tits heaving. “I really am going to marry your ass now.”

 

Izumi’s response is only a low, throaty groan as he doesn’t let up, grabbing handfuls of Ritsu’s ass to pull him down as his tongue licks and drags, tasting every single inch that he can manage when Ritsu’s hands hold him down. He nuzzles down, fairly certain air is for idiots that haven’t had their mouth on a _girl_ in eight years, and he sucks gently on Ritsu’s clit, the taste enough to make his eyes roll back.

 

Ritsu’s little noises grow progressively more high-pitched, and one of his hands clamps to his breast, pinching and squeezing, wringing the pleasure out of himself in a demanding, urgent pulse of heat through his body. “Shit, shit, you’re good,” he pants, feeling sweat bead on the back of his neck as he writhes. “Oh, fuck, _fuuuck_ —“ And how long has it been since the slick writhe of a tongue—a _human_ tongue—has brought him to a point where all he can do is curse?

 

Ritsu, wet and slick underneath his tongue, is enough to make him tremble where he kneels, licking, sucking, flushed to the point of almost feeling lightheaded with Ritsu writhing underneath him. Izumi’s tongue drags up that slit, lapping over that bundle of nerves again and again, until he just lets Ritsu’s hand hold his head down in place again, far from minding having his mouth ground up against with every careful suck and lick. His cock aches between his legs, but that’s secondary, _so_ secondary.

 

“Oh, aaahhhh—“ Ritsu’s voice spikes into a cry that he doubts even demons can hear—maybe dog demons—and he bucks wildly, paradoxically trying to dislodge Izumi and keep him in the same spot all at once as he shudders down to his toes. “Oh…fuck….that’s so much more fun as a man,” he bemoans, shuddering as he collapses back onto the bed, aftershocks still twitching through him. “I miss the fireworks…fuck, but at least this way, I don’t have to wait. Gimme.”

 

Izumi slowly forces himself up, dazed and shaky and barely remembering to wipe his face off with the back of his hand. “What the fuck, you taste like…like honey?” he manages with a giddy little laugh, vaguely remembering to rip his own shirt off and over his head as he crawls back up. “I’ve been between the legs of a _lot_ of noblewomen, and they don’t taste like that.”

 

“Weird,” Ritsu says, not caring in the slightest as he yanks Izumi close, shoving his tongue way too far down his throat, rolling them to get Izumi onto his back, sitting up to straddle him. “You’re being too shy, so just stop me if you change your mind,” he says, and reaches back to grab that lovely hard cock, already starting to shimmy down onto its thick length.

 

Gods, he’s _dizzy._ It’s probably less now because of _Ritsu_ , far more because of the rush of heat that seems to filter all the way down to his toes, through his bones, through his veins. Izumi doesn’t protest—far from it, with his hands grabbing at Ritsu’s waist, squeezing, kneading as his hips arch up on their own accord to sink in deeper to that hot, slick body. His breath steals from his lungs, and Izumi wordlessly forces himself up onto his elbows, mouth immediately going to one of Ritsu’s tits.

 

The fact that Izumi doesn’t do anything weird, like bucking him off or snapping his neck, is kind of a relief. Ritsu had vaguely been wondering if this was going to end well for everyone involved. It was worth the risk, he’d decided, and now he just focuses on how nice it is to be full of cock, let alone to have Izumi’s gorgeous mouth playing with his nipple. He sighs, squirms a little, settling himself more firmly, and starts to rock, slowly at first, but gaining speed, until little grunts of effort, then full-on groans of pleasure are falling from his lips. “Fuuuck,” he whines, shaking hair out of his face. “Fuck, fuck, you feel _good_ in me, I haven’t…done this in…way to long….c’mon, give it to me good, show me what a Northerner can do…”

 

A low, rumbling growl wells up in the back of Izumi’s throat, and he moves, throwing his weight around, flipping Ritsu over to pin him firmly onto his back. The long, hard thrust of his hips that follows takes his own breath away, and he bites at Ritsu’s throat, sucking as he grinds in, hands dragging down to those pale hips, savoring the way his fingers sink into that soft, giving skin when he pulls Ritsu where he wants him. “You—are even softer like this, somehow,” he rasps, his eyes crossing at how _slick_ Ritsu is inside.

 

“Thanks…for not doing anything weird,” Ritsu grunts, voice rhythmic as he bounces, hands moving to his own tits, squeezing and rubbing almost viciously at his nipples, feeling the jiggling weight of them in his hands, enjoying the feel of them as much as he does the sense of them being touched. Liking both men and women, and being able to _be_ both men and women, has often come in handy when he’s been bored. “You have a great dick, did you fucking know that?”

 

“Yeah,” Izumi admits with a breathy laugh, and he leans back, settling onto his knees as he grabs Ritsu’s ass, pulling him down onto his cock as he thrusts up with a groan. Burying himself like this makes his vision swim, goosebumps slithering over his skin at the overstimulation of it all when Ritsu smells good and sweet and his skin just so _soft_ underneath his touch that he can’t help but grab and bite. His fangs are probably out, judging by the shape of the bite mark he leaves behind into the curve of Ritsu’s shoulder, but it’s a secondary thought when another, deep thrust of his hips is the catalyst that finally pushes him over the edge.

 

Relief—pure, unfiltered relief, that’s what makes his toes curl as much as his orgasm, and Izumi muffles the broken, rasping groan that escapes his throat into Ritsu’s shoulder as he comes, spilling with throb after aching throb of his cock. His hands tremble where they hold onto Ritsu, probably gripping hard enough to bruise, but unable to loosen his grasp when Ritsu feels like the last thing holding him down to earth.

 

Also—Ritsu is so _warm_ , compared to him, compared to the _room_ , all of a sudden.

 

The little bits of frost that cling to his eyelashes make Izumi blink hazily, and he realizes, dimly, that’s _too much magic overflow._ “Ah—sorry, sorry,” he dazedly manages, trying to clamp down on that surge of energy when he’s still not really able to focus.

 

“It’s fine,” Ritsu whispers, squeezing his thighs around Izumi’s waist, lifting off of his cock to simply lay on top of him. “It really is. You can spill out, my shadows are ready to catch your overflow.”

 

Izumi flops back as if his strings were cut, deciding to do just that while he basks in the afterglow. “You’re very…toasty,” he dimly says, petting a hand down Ritsu’s sweaty back. “That’s good.”

 

“Ritsuuuuuu!” comes Rei’s whine from maybe down the hall, maybe nebulously somewhere else within this strange house. “It’s so _cold_ , at least block off the room you’re in, my plants are going to _die_.”

 

Ritsu grumbles, but with a quick word to the shadows, closes off Rei’s room completely from Izumi’s magical overflow. “It’s good for you to let it spill over sometimes, you know. Otherwise your…you know, your muscles? That are keeping it all together? They’ll get tired. Could fail on you.”

 

“It usually doesn’t do this,” Izumi dreamily says, still petting Ritsu’s back. “Blaming you. You’re good. Will you just put your tits in my face, I want to die like that.”

 

Ritsu shifts around, stuffing his tits into Izumi’s face. “Sorry I don’t shift like Rei. He can change the size every time. Mine just depends on how fat I am, ha.”

 

“No, this is ideal,” comes Izumi’s muffled retort as he wraps his arms around Ritsu’s back and holds him, not letting him pull away. “Really big tits aren’t my favorite. This size—perfect. They still bounce, but they’re the perfect handful.”

 

Ritsu beams. “You said the right thing. You can touch them as long as you want. And hey, your dick didn’t fall off. Good, right?”

 

Izumi exhales a long, shaky sigh of relief. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s good.” He rubs his face down into Ritsu’s tits, inhaling. “You even _smell_ like a girl. Gods, I love men, but girls _always_ smell better after sex.”

 

“I am a girl, moron,” Ritsu says cheerfully. “I told you. The way I do it, it’s not an illusion, it’s a real shift. There’s a huge difference.”

 

“But you’re still sterile, like a wizard?” Izumi forces himself to lift his head, exhaling a pleased little breath. “That’s…convenient.”

 

“My uterus is decoration only,” Ritsu assures him. “But I bet if you learned how to shapeshift, you could carry a baby. Just got that feeling.”

 

Izumi’s head tilts at that. “But—huh.” His brow furrows, attempting to logic his way through that bit of information. “Is it different, then? For Icebred? I’ve only ever heard that wizards are sterile—and that they were _always_ sterile, but I’ve _definitely_ sired children. Is it species dependent?”

 

“I dunno,” Ritsu says frankly. “Bradei’s not a wizard, so you’re still the only of of those I’ve ever met. You’re special, you know? I think it’s pretty obvious that the rules we know about don’t apply to you.”

 

“That’s really stressful, thanks.” Then Izumi pauses, and his mind goes to something _really_ gross and embarrassing that makes his face flush as he flops backwards, pulling a pillow over his face. “Uuuugh.”

 

“What?” Ritsu asks, startled, and looks down. “Did I get my monthly?”

 

“No, I’m just—I’m just thinking about dumb things. Don’t look at me.”

 

“Oh.” Ritsu cocks his head. “Yeah. It could work, you know.”

 

“Noooo. Shhh, I don’t want to think about it, I’m weirded out and I don’t want to think about him fucking me as a girl because that’s too hot.”

 

“Oh, I was thinking about him marrying you.”

 

“Shut up, you’re lying and way more of a pervert than me.”

 

Ritsu grins, as innocently as a naked, semen-filled demon could possibly look. “Who, me? Hey, learn to do it quickly and you can do it for real. Don’t wait for him to get old, you know?”

 

“I’m going to figure out a way to preserve him and make him handsome forever,” Izumi mutters, huffy, but entirely serious. “And by the time anyone’s wise to it, we’re going to run off together and never be seen again.”

 

Ritsu shrugs. “For all I know, you can really do it. But it would be easier to take you seriously if you were actually trying to expand your powers, you know. I’ll scold you later for that. Right now, cuddles.”

 

“I was trying for the first couple of years, but no one at the Academy knows _anything_ ,” Izumi bemoans, grabbing at Ritsu’s waist and hauling him close to snuggle. He pauses, then _has_ to ask, “Has Isara ever seen…this form?”

 

“No.” Ritsu flushes. “He’d like it too much. I have to maintain control.”

 

“Uh huh.” Izumi gently pinches Ritsu’s hip. “Show up in his bed like this one day, wearing something see-through. He’ll remember why he’s _lucky_ to be bonded to you.”

 

Ritsu grins. “I’m keeping it back secret for if he ever tries to leave me. I think that’ll really seal the deal, right? How do you keep the king in line?”

 

“I suck his dick as much as possible.” Izumi’s mouth twists a little then, an annoyed glance sliding down the cavernous hallway. “Can your brother hear us?”

 

Ritsu reaches his hand down, and suddenly the shadows of the room shift, transforming into a million tiny points, all pointed at them. “Soundproofed as hell,” he says smugly. “Took me a year to perfect that spell. If we sealed it magically he’d notice and try to listen in, but this is purely physical. I’m smart.”

 

“You are. Good, he probably just thinks I’m eating your pussy again, loudly,” Izumi says with a roll of his eyes, pushing his hair back out of his face. “He’s fucking Leo,” he grumpily says. “Did you know?”

 

“Hard to make a thrall without that, for a Cambion,” Ritsu says, unfazed. “Don’t worry, I’ve had sex with both of you, I always go home happier after fucking you.” _Always_ might be a tiny bit of an exaggeration, but with how touchy Izumi can get, a little exaggeration might be necessary.

 

“…How am I the last person to know about this? How long have you known he had Leo under his thrall, and you didn’t _tell me?_ ”

 

Ritsu stares at him. “Because it’s _Rei_ ,” he says flatly. “Maybe you don’t trust him…god, never tell him I trust him, yeah? But you know he wouldn’t do anything to manipulate the crown, he doesn’t even _want_ it. If he didn’t, Leo would have died. He told me all about it, I figured Leo would have said something.”

 

Hearing Ritsu reassure him is much more soothing that Izumi anticipated it being, especially when normally, Ritsu is the first to criticize his brother for…well, everything he does. He settles back with a huff. “Well. Leo didn’t. So it was kind of a surprise to hear about it secondhand, and it freaked me out. It’s not…it’s really not something bad? When I heard about it, it sounded really bad.”

 

“It’s…” Ritsu frowns, thinking. “Hold on. I’m thinking of how to put this. It’s a dangerous medicine for a fatal condition. But Rei is Rei. So it’s really only dangerous to _him_. I’d fucking tell you if I didn’t feel like this, honestly. Rei is married, you know that? Sorry for the subject change, but this is kinda important.”

 

“I know you’d tell me, but…” Izumi exhales a frustrated noise. “ _Is_ he married, though? Like, he’s a sex wizard, Shu was pretty unhappy last time I saw him…there’s a lot of stuff going on there.”

 

“He’s married,” Ritsu confirms. “And he’s married to someone who’s entire job is _just_ hunting down demons who thrall humans for evil. They physically couldn’t be around each other if Rei was using that bond. Like I said, it’s only dangerous to my dumb brother, not to the king.”

 

“…Oh.” Izumi sits back, blinking a few times. “Oh. Wait. That’s the blonde, right? Kaoru? Fuck. I didn’t think they were _married_ _-_ married. Or that he was…that effective, I guess? Listen, I don’t know who’s actually powerful anymore.” 

 

“The _point_ is,” Ritsu says firmly, “that Rei isn’t doing anything to Leo. Gods, you focus on the dumbest stuff. Listen. I’ll say lots of stuff about him. So when I say this, it’s for real. What he did, if _anyone_ else had done it, I’d kill them myself. But it’s him. And I just feel kinda sorry for him.”

 

“Why, because now he’s got one more guy he can roll around with? Sorry—sorry, I know I get weird about Leo, this sort of thing just…it makes me nervous to even hear about.” Izumi huffs. “Also, why does Rei fuck everyone _except_ me?”

 

Ritsu snorts. “He says it’s about some weird magical feedback loop. But he won’t sleep with Bradei either, and I heard him tell a friend he gets brain freeze.”

 

“Is that a kind of racism?” Izumi mildly asks, and he’s pretty sure that means he’s become as ridiculous as Ritsu, in a lot of ways. “Whatever. Okay, I get it, I’m being crazy about the Leo thing, I’ll try to drop it. Then, a topic Rei keeps skirting around and doesn’t really seem to want me to worry about at all right now—Mika. I know those scary gates are open and the world is ending with archdemons, but…do you think we can work on making my magic fix _that?_ ”

 

“It’s always the right time to talk about the people we love,” Ritsu says. “Except when it’s time to talk about food and sex, and most importantly, sleep. Like I said, I don’t know what your magic can do, if you start growing it properly. You look like a tomato plant with the roots all curled up and trying to pierce the stem for warmth. It’s fucked up. But yeah, I’d say you probably have a few latent talents that you haven’t bothered to cultivate yet. Shapeshifting, for sure. But the kinds of deliberate magic you could work if you actually applied yourself and stopped fighting it…absolutely limitless. I feel like a teacher lecturing a bad student, that’s not how I wanna feel.”

 

“So don’t scold me, I’m a very good student if I have a _proper_ teacher—I just don’t like learning from people who don’t know what they’re doing,” Izumi grouses. “I feel better, surely my magic has to look better now, right? I mean, I definitely want to fuck you again, but that’s sort of a default state.”

 

Ritsu unfocuses his eyes, looking carefully at Izumi’s magic, and shrugs. “Looks a little better. Not that good. But you’ve been fucking it up for years and years, you can’t expect one cunt to make it all better. Even if it is the best. And it is.”

 

“But it’s a _really_ magical one. That should count for more, I think.”

 

“Quit arguing with your own magic. That’s why you’re all snarled up. And stop arguing with me, I’m not the one who twisted you up.”

 

Izumi scowls and flops backwards, throwing an arm over his face. “I just want it to _work_ already. I worked hard on it for five years in the Academy, you know that. And before that, I trained my own innate stuff just fine! I was _good_ at that, I brought people back from shit they shouldn’t’ve survived.”

 

“Waaaaaaaah, waaaaaaaaah,” Ritsu whines, poking Izumi in the side over and over again. “Waaaaaah, I’m naturally immortal and beautiful forever but that’s not enoooooough, I went to school for half as long as everyone else but I’m booooooored, all my natural talents are soooo strong but I’m gruuuuuumpy about them, I want _all_ the powers, not just _my_ powers, I want to ignore everything everyone tells me and then be mad when the shit I’m doing doesn’t wooooork! I want the Crown _and_ the North, I want to have twenty lovers but still starve my sex magic, waaaaaaaaahhhhh!!!”

 

“I’m gonna bite your dick off.”

 

“Too late, motherfucker.”

 

“Then I’ll bite one of your boobs off. You’re oversimplifying it, you ass,” Izumi growls, grabbing Ritsu’s hands to stop him from poking him more. “I don’t like being immortal if all my friends are going to die, and what good is school when _nothing_ worked to teach me? I’m doing the thing they told me that would fix it now and it still didn’t fix it all the way, which is pretty bullshit when I’m in a hurry, and what do you know about politics, huh? Or starving myself? _I_ don’t understand why I have twenty million lovers but I’m not well-fed, you know!”

 

Ritsu grabs Izumi’s face, leans very close, breathes in deep, and yells, “WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!! Quit whining, I’m not whining about the fact that nine guys demons tried to assassinate me this week. Life is hard, at least you’re powerful. Take people’s advice, the natural doesn’t care you’re in a hurry, and I’m fucking king, you ass fuckwit, I know more about politics than you ever will.”

 

Izumi hisses and lunges, taking a snap at Ritsu’s hand and not deliberately missing for a change. He draws blood before he jerks back, irritated, moody, and lurches to his feet, snatching up his discarded cloak to storm off through Ritsu’s barriers in search of where he’s pretty sure he can smell the water of a bath, at least.

 

“He’s a child,” Rei gently cuts in, stifling a yawn behind one hand as he pokes apart the little shredded bits of shadow surrounding the room. “I only caught the tail-end of that, but—try to remember he’s very, _very_ young.”

 

Ritsu is mildly surprised to find his chest heaving, his face dark, and find that not only his hands, but his feelings are hurt. “He doesn’t care about anyone but himself, not really. He hasn’t asked me a thing about myself since he got here. He just wants me to solve all his problems and coddle him.”

 

“He thinks the world is ending and he’s in a hurry to fix it so he can go back to being ‘normal.’ Give him a day or two to decompress, and he’ll come to his senses and realize that massive problems move much more slowly and he has time.” Rei drifts back over, dropping back down onto the sofa—which turns to something more normal, the moment he touches it—and takes Ritsu’s bitten hand, rubbing his thumb over the wound. “Of course he wants you to solve all of his problems and coddle him. Who doesn’t want something like that? Come here, love, let me pet you.”

 

Ritsu’s lip trembles, and he stuffs his face in his brother’s shoulder. The last thing he wants is to look like a crybaby in front of his brother, but… “He wants me to fix everything. I don’t know how. I don’t know _how_ , I _want_ to, believe me!”

 

“I know you do, shh. Here, you’re chilly, that’s no good.” Rei sweeps his own cloak around Ritsu, neatly blanketing him before tugging him closer, right into his lap. “If _I_ knew how to fix it, I would’ve ages ago. Natsume spoiled me,” he laments, stroking a hand down Ritsu’s back. “He bloomed and was already so neatly packaged…but that’s the blood of heavily diluted humans, I suppose. You have time here, remember that.”

 

“More than you think,” Ritsu says miserably, blowing his nose in Rei’s cloak without a hint of shame. “I put up a timestop around the house when you showed up. I wanted time to fuck him in peace before the assassins started coming again, not even ten seconds have passed since you came in.”

 

“You’re so smart, what a good boy,” Rei coos, petting his hair and entirely unfazed about Ritsu making his beautifully crafted cloak snotty. “But you don’t need to worry about anyone bothering you now, you know. Now that my magic’s seeped in again, can’t you feel how still it is?”

 

Ritsu holds still for a moment, listening, and sags in relief. “There’s a price on my head, you know,” he says glumly. “I liked it here until that started happening.”

 

“Not for long there isn’t. Anyone that threatens you has a price on _their_ head, and I’m making that known.” Rei shrugs a little, leaning back and gathering Ritsu against his chest. “If I can get this situation under control for you, all the better for you to focus on Izumi.”

 

“Everdark only knows what to do about him. I’m trying, I am, but he’s so _fussy_ ,” Ritsu says with a sigh. “It makes me crazy. How do I help him when he always has a smart comeback?”

 

“…Weeell…” Rei hedges, vaguely amused as he twirls a strand of Ritsu’s hair about one finger. “He’s got the makings of a sex wizard in there, somewhere. Fuck him until he’s sweet, and willing to do whatever you ask for a little bit more. He reminds me of how stupid I was when I was going through puberty.”

 

“But he’s so traumatized.” Ritsu pauses, then looks up at Rei, frowning. “Really? Like you? It’s been a long time since the Academy trained one, but why wouldn’t they be able to make use of him?”

 

“Because even if he _does_ have the makings of a sex wizard, it’s still not the same as me. The inner workings of a healer are still a mystery to most schools of wizardry, because so much of it _is_ innate, so teaching someone else about their own innate magic…it takes a lot of trial and error to make it stick,” Rei says with a grimace. “Imagine me, but…consolidated, perhaps. My magic, which is almost purely offensive, needs to spread out because it’s so bulky and unwieldy, and it only grows when I feed. Izumi’s—it obviously wants to stay close to him, just like any drake’s; highly concentrated and potent in very tiny doses. I have no idea how to deal with that when combined with innate healing magic. Combine that with sex magic, which means it need to be _fed_ , and with him being so touchy…it’s a complicated situation. I wish he’d let me suppress much of what troubles him. I can’t imagine trying to be a sex wizard of any sort with what he has hanging over his mind.”

 

“His suffering is what makes him strong,” Ritsu says softly. “Or something. Maybe it reminds him of what he’s fighting for.”

 

He worries at his lower lip, tearing holes in it and not caring. “I should go apologize, I guess. I lost my temper. Is he really dealing with all that much?”

 

“Stop making yourself bleed,” Rei scolds, sticking a thumb directly against one of Ritsu’s fangs before he can bite into his lower lip even more. “When _I_ was his age, I was scorning my inheritance, delighted at my own ability to blow up anything, and occasionally dealing with the world trying to tear itself apart. I didn’t have any steady lovers on top of that, let alone one that tried to propose to me with several caveats attached. I’d say he’s dealing with quite a bit, but he’s still a brat. Be gentle, but don’t let him get away with too much.”

 

“Weren’t you fucking a dragon with two dicks?” Ritsu asks, not-so-innocently, as if he hadn’t asked for that same bedtime story again and again (and again, and again, because even in the Shadowlands, not too many of their kin had seen a dragon, let alone had intimate knowledge of one).

 

“I…mean…I certainly was fucking him.” Because that’s how half-bloods solved problems, back in those days.

 

Ritsu grins. “You’re not getting shy about how many dicks he has now, are you? Kids remember stories like that.”

 

“Fucking someone and _being with them_ are two very different things, which was what I was trying to intimate a moment ago,” Rei huffs, rubbing Ritsu’s hair the wrong way. “But no, for your information, I’m not shy about his two dicks. I’ve been dealing with him recently and I keep thinking about them and it’s very stressful because I want them.”

 

“Wait.” Ritsu dials back through his conversations, then thinks a little about his brother, a little about Izumi, a little about some of the things Izumi had said, about the way his magic works, and quickly comes to a pretty weird, mildly fascinating, possibly horrible conclusion. “Wait. I just solved the puzzle. Izumi isn’t a sex wizard.”

 

And this is why he should truly learn to lurk around Ritsu more often, no matter how life denies him such lovely things. “Go on. I like it when you solve puzzles.”

 

“He’s a _love_ wizard.” Ritsu shakes his head slowly. “Think about it. Even at his sluttiest, he always formed a connection with those women, or men, that he slept with, right? And he’s always mooning over _everyone_. And even now, he says he just hopped into bed with some scruffy huge Northern guy, and he’s basically in love with _him_. Think about how sad he gets—he’s literally feeding on everyone who’s in love with him. Hell, I bet he _can_ only feed on someone who’s in love with him, _shiiiit_. Just because we’ve never seen it before doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, you know.”

 

Rei pauses, then lifts a hand, covering Ritsu’s mouth. “Never mind, I don’t like it when you solve puzzles.” Then, he adds, more seriously, “That’s a death sentence, if you’re right. There are wizards that have been like that, throughout history, but I don’t think we’ve put a name to them.”

 

“Why should it be a death sentence?” Ritsu asks crossly. “He’s lovable.”

 

“How many of his lovers are immortal? Even if he takes new ones,” Rei says before Ritsu can protest. “He’ll lose his damned mind watching the old ones die. It would be one thing if he was raised to expect this, like we were, but he grew up thinking he was a fairly normal, perhaps gods-touched, human child.”

 

The idea of what would happen to someone as open, as loving, as generous with himself as Ritsu knows Izumi to be, if, for example, summer plague carried off his beloved King…

 

Ritsu goes cold, far colder than he would have by sucking on one of Izumi’s glaciers. “He’ll have me,” he whispers. “I can fix it. At least he won’t lose someone. Maybe—maybe he’s different, stronger. He has so much latent power, maybe he can bring his lovers with him.”

 

“Maybe,” Rei hesitantly agrees. “Ritsu—I know you care for him, but saddling yourself with that for the rest of your life…think carefully before you decide that’s your cause. If you’re right about what he is, even slightly, that’s _dangerous._ We don’t keep records on wizards likethat because they thrall almost innately, and they’re almost always half-or-more blooded with some kind of creature. I think there was a Wavebred half-blood, years and years ago…vicious thing. A paladin put him down. Which I’m not advocating, I’m just pointing out…that’s how poorly we understand and can control the magic behind it.”

 

“Oh, no,” Ritsu says softly, dryly, with just a hint of edge. “A gorgeous, immortal creature who thralls because he has to, with too much power to contain. How will I ever deal with one of those?”

 

“You’re an insolent little brat. There’s a difference between thralling innately and doing it on purpose to save someone. But thank you for the compliments.”

 

Ritsu sticks out a long tongue. “Too early to sign his death warrant, all right? Give him a chance. And you’ve never seen one of them as a half-drake, we don’t know what he is, not really. But I _am_ right about this. I can feel it.”

 

“I’m not signing his death warrant, I’m just…warning you, because I love you,” Rei gently says, reaching out to poke that tongue with one finger. “I do think you’re right. Do more research in the archives here, though; there are plenty of records the Academy has no idea about, so we might have something interesting stashed away. Damn, do you ever remember how efficient we are together? We could rule the entire world, but here we are…”

 

“Maybe we _should_ rule the world. For their own good.” Ritsu makes a face, wrinkling his nose at himself. “Ugh, now I sound like grandpa. You don’t need to remind me what happened to him, I was old enough to remember.”

 

“You were tiny, you don’t remember anything. I’m mad at you now, though,” Rei grumpily transitions. “I’m back to thinking about dragon dicks and I _thought_ I had shoved that out of my mind. Disgusting.”

 

“I _could_ shift into one,” Ritsu says hesitantly. “I heard it’s risky, though. What was his name, that tried it, and got addicted and forgot his human form, but he got the mechanics right so he couldn’t fly?”

 

“Do _not_ shift into one, I know where to find a real one if I’m really having a craving,” Rei grouses. “You’re thinking of Ronan, who was an idiot. Don’t be an idiot. He got the dicks wrong, anyway. They’re not human at all.”

 

“I don’t really care,” Ritsu tells him seriously, and reaches up to kiss him on the cheek. “Humans are all the adventure I need. I’m going to go check on Izumi. Should…should I tell him? Never mind, I don’t know why I’m asking you, you always want everyone to keep everything a secret.”

 

“If you tell him, be prepared for him to have more questions you can’t entirely answer,” Rei warns, giving Ritsu’s cheek a little pat. “If you want my opinion, and I know you do, research first, then talk to him about it. But you’ll do whatever you want regardless, and I do admire that, so good luck.”

 

“There’s no research on exactly what he is,” Ritsu points out, “and the sooner he knows, the sooner he can point out stuff to me that I wouldn’t notice. Thanks for the advice, though.” He’s startled to find that, more or less, he actually means it. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

 

“Too late~ you’re complimenting me so much, I might die.”

 

“Good point. You’re the smartest. You’re the coolest. Your breath never smells bad. Die.”

 

“You forgot that I have _excellent_ hair, but that’s all right, I can still die happily now.”

 

Ritsu simply puts his hand in his brother’s face and shoves, then stands, stretching out, making his tits jiggle a little on purpose. “Bye. Die out here. Izumiiii, don’t be still mad at me, I want a bath too…”

 

As Rei dives underneath a blanket, groaning in protest, the reluctant slosh of water sounds from down the hall. “…I’m not mad at you,” comes Izumi’s rather wet response before he submerges himself up to his reddened eyes again, contemplating trying to drown himself.

 

Ritsu pads down the hallway and slips into the bath, very kindly not complaining about the bath water temperature. “Hi. I figured out everything about your magic.” That ought to get his mind out of the negativity it’s been running in.

 

“…Just like that?” Izumi sniffles, rubbing a hand across his eyes, still sore from crying. “Sorry for fucking _biting_ you, I don’t know what came over me.”

 

Ritsu grabs Izumi’s hands, pressing kisses to the backs of each of them. “It’s okay. I wasn’t being nice. I’m…kind of in a bad way right now, but I honestly think I solved your puzzle. I was treating you like you were like one of us, but you’re not. Drakes aren’t demons. And they’re not immoral, either, just so you know. They care for the women they take to bed, and they care about the children they sire, right? Like, they have a sense that that’s theirs, and they don’t try to eat the babies?”

 

Izumi stares back at him, wide-eyed and a little wary. “W-wait. Do you…do demons _eat their babies?_ ”

 

“Apparently we’re really tasty? I don’t know, I’ve never done it. But usually…it depends if it’s two demons, a demon mother, or a demon father. Demon fathers to half-humans eat the babies. They’ll usually disappear until the birth. Then, slurp. Double insult. Some of them eat the mother after that, too.” His mouth twists. “Demon mothers usually only have one at a time, so they usually don’t. If it’s two demons, though, they usually have a multiple birth, the mom picks her favorite, and they split the rest. Welcome to the Shadowlands.”

 

“That’s…that’s really fucked up,” Izumi manages, his eyes even wider, hands trembling a little as he clutches at Ritsu’s. “I’m _not_ like that. I don’t like my father, but he’s not like that, either, pretty sure.”

 

Ritsu nods, shifting a little closer, squeezing Izumi’s hands, wishing he could just kiss those stupid tears away. “Apparently, drakes are always nearby when the birth takes place, and have been known to come into houses to heal the mothers if things go wrong. Bradei told me that, isn’t that cool?”

 

“I…I guess,” Izumi mutters, sniffling as he glances aside. “It still freaks me out, the way drakes do things, though. My father said…women will literally just throw themselves at them, like they’re compelled. That’s kind of creepy to me, you know? Like women don’t have a damned choice but to enjoy it. I don’t want my magic to do that to people.”

 

Ritsu fights down the urge to snap at him, breathing in deep. “They’re what they are, you know? Like, you think if I had a choice…let’s just say, I wouldn’t be biting necks for breakfast, I’d be doing it only for fun. My species feeds like this, though, so I have to. At least you’re not hurting anyone. And…I think I figured out…there might be more to it, with you.”

 

 _But you only bite people who want it_ , Izumi wants to say, but actually, when he thinks about it, he _doesn’t_ know if that’s the case, and doesn’t really want to think about it too much. He swallows, shifting back. “Okay. That sounds ominous, but okay.”

 

“The times when your magic grew a lot—like, from being able to touch up your horse’s scrapes to being able to save Leo from having his throat cut—you were sleeping with how many people? It’s a question, not a judgment, I promise. I’m just trying to help and figure out if I’m right.”

 

Izumi chews on his lower lip, trying to actually think and answer properly instead of being defensive. “…Pretty much every high-ranking noble lady at court, Leo, and Arashi,” he admits, thinking back. “And that’s…easily close to a couple dozen women? Right, and a couple of stablehands, plus one of the swordplay instructors…”

 

 _I knew I was right._ “You can remember all of them, right? At least a few things about them? How you made them feel, how they looked at you?”

 

“Yes? What’s the point otherwise?” Izumi grumpily retorts, poking at the water’s surface when it tries to get warmer from whatever strange, bubbly demon hot spring lies beneath. “Oh, I slept with you in that mix, too, and Tsukasa. Once each, but it still counts. I can’t believe you hit on my mother the first time we met.”

 

“She’s hot. I like older women.” Ritsu shrugs. “Okay. I think I’m right. Rei thinks you’re a sex wizard. But has there ever been a time when, like…you weren’t feeling good, and just a touch, or maybe a hug from someone made your magic feel better? Think back.”

 

“All the time,” Izumi admits immediately, his face flushing a little. “I mean—it’s stupid, but yeah. Arashi’s got the stamina of a dead horse, so I just make him take his clothes off so I can lay on him, most of the time.”

 

“Please…understand that I’m not saying that this is a good thing or a bad thing,” Ritsu says carefully, “but I definitely know how your magic works now, and then you can _make_ it good or bad. You’re a…well, the lore just says ‘love wizard,’ but I think ‘intimacy sorcerer’ sounds cooler and is probably more accurate. Intimacy and love are what you feed on. And the quickest way to that with a stranger is sex, right? That’s why you feel so strongly about the people you’ve slept with, it’s a drake’s protection instinct. Kind of sweet, really.”

 

Izumi’s brow furrows, his head tilting slowly to the side as he tries to process that. “That seems…almost like it’s fake, you know? And definitely kind of embarrassing? How’s that really any different from a sex wizard, though? Or is that a stupid question because I’m terrible at separating casual sex from actual affection, right, I’m realizing that I’m stupid.”

 

“It’s because of your magic,” Ritsu says, as gently as possible. “I honestly don’t know if that makes it better or worse, but it is what it is, you know? The more someone loves you, the more you’re intimate with people, the stronger you’ll get. But part of that is spreading it around, I think? Just like Rei has to. It’s…it’s too much for just a couple of people to handle, to provide you all that food.”

 

“That’s…something.” A twinge of frustration makes Izumi’s face twist. “I mean—I know for the past five years, I’ve been locked up in the Academy, so that probably didn’t help. But now that I’m just…out, and sleeping with whoever again, that should be fine, right? I mean, I’ve slept with you, and Arashi, and Makoto, and…and Dayton, so that’s four, and my magic is still cranky—is there like…a number I’m supposed to be hitting?”

 

Ritsu spreads his hands, finally letting Izumi’s go. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I still think you should talk to Bradei. I’m seriously not an expert, I’m just good at solving puzzles, you know?”

 

“I know. I know, I’m sorry, I’m not trying to take this all out on you.” Izumi’s lower lip trembles until he bites down onto it, and he looks away, huffing out a wet breath. “I don’t _want_ to talk to anyone else. I’m already inconveniencing enough people—you’re already stressed out and busy and I’m here in your house making it harder. If I’m supposed to be fucking a lot of people, fine, I’ll do that, t-then I’ll get out of your hair.”

 

Ritsu doesn’t respond to that silliness except by climbing onto Izumi, firmly sitting on him, shoving his tits into Izumi’s face. “Better? Stop being dumb. By the way, we’re in a time slip, no time is passing while we’re here. If that makes you feel more relaxed.”

 

“…Better,” comes Izumi’s muffled response, his hands automatically closing around Ritsu’s hips. “Thanks. That does make me feel better. I still feel like I’m a pain in the ass, though—Isara wouldn’t tell me all the stuff you were dealing with, but adding me to whatever mess you’re dealing with…is it really okay? I know your brother’s here now, but still.”

 

Ritsu huffs. “As much as I hate to admit it…having him here basically solves all of my problems,” he says, in a bit of a grumble. “It’s kind of hard to explain Shadowlands politics…no, it’s not, I just don’t want to do it,” he admits bluntly. “Not to you. Because of the way you talk about demons. So I’m not going to.”

 

“Sorry, sorry, I’m trying,” Izumi protests, leaning his head back to breathe properly. “I’ll try harder. It doesn’t really bother me, it just—I got kind of…freaked out, when I spoke to my father,” he quietly admits, hooking his chin over Ritsu’s shoulder. “Because he said if I don’t feed properly, I’ll just start taking people by force. That scares the shit out of me, honestly. Not that I’m trying to compare that to demons, it’s just—so many of the instinctive stuff creatures talk about is so…”

 

“It’s instinct.” Ritsu settles off of Izumi, down onto his side of the bathtub, which accommodates him much more comfortably than most porcelain would be able to. “As a human, you learn one set of instincts. Drakes learn another. But humans are the only ones to attach morality to it. If you’re going to deal with nonhumans, you have to either accept relative morality, or…well, be disappointed. It’s like if you decided to stop eating meat, and then tried to get your cat to do the same. You can survive, he can’t. I’ll fucking cut you if you do that to a cat, by the way. That’s what it’s like to tell a Yamauba that she can’t eat human flesh, you know? Some of us are half-breeds, but it’s…frustrating.”

 

Izumi worries at his lower lip again, pulling at the skin until he tastes blood, which disappears almost immediately. That’s a good sign, at least. “I’m trying,” he says again, huffing out a breath. “I’ll try harder. It’s just a lot. Okay. Right, if I’m…some kind of love wizard, or whatever, what do I need to do to feed? I’m pretty nervous about feeding like I did as a teenager, and I think that’s fair.”

 

“Intimacy. It’s been a few hundred years since the last one, at least, but I’m going to dive into the archives for you later,” Ritsu assures him. “And basically, that makes sense, too, because of how you’re always trying to take care of people.” He frowns, and looks closely at Izumi. Yep, his theories are definitely probably true. “You know how humans only have a specific amount of blood? So I can only drink a little bit from each person at a time if I don’t want to kill them?”

 

“Yes—I remember how much Arashi and Tsukasa freaked out the first time you fed from me,” Izumi says, frowning. “Please tell me that doesn’t apply to people with this kind of stuff, too.”

 

“Absolutely. Well,” Ritsu amends immediately, “kind of. Except you’re, you’re really good, you know? That’s why your magic’s all twisted up. I have a feeling you’ve been instinctively refusing to feed from people once you get as much as you feel is safe. Like closing your mouth even if you’re swimming and thirsty. That’s why it feels so good to be with new people.”

 

“Oh.” Izumi isn’t sure if he’s happy about that, or decidedly annoyed. “But—ugh. I hate that. I don’t want to have a _million_ lovers, you know? I know, I know, I probably don’t have a choice, just let me complain for a moment.” He exhales an aggravated breath. “I…I definitely notice what you mean, like with Arashi, it’s…after awhile, it’s sort of wasted effort? But…I don’t think it’s ever felt like that with Leo, maybe it’s because he’s less…weird, mixed blood or something. You said really pure humans were the best to feed off of. Oh, also, the same thing happened with Morisa—“ He clamps a hand over his mouth instinctively, cursing his own tongue. Damn. For _years_ he’s kept that under wraps, and he just blurts it out to Ritsu.

 

“Morisawa? You went there?” Ritsu’s face lights up, suddenly much less professor and far more gossippy aunt. “Wow. How was it? Really good? How could it not be really good, he’s a _beast_ , I’ve wanted to ride that pony for years.”

 

“…I still go there,” Izumi admits, sighing as he gives up. Admitting it is actually a relief after so long, given his own penchant for gossip. “He’s…really good. Every time I go through through High Harbor, more or less, we look make sure to meet up. He gives _excellent_ blowjobs.”

 

Ritsu’s cock twitches, and he very deliberately rearranges his legs. “Wow. Kind of unfair, somehow? Lucky you, though. Damn. Don’t worry, I won’t tell Arashi. What were you going to say about him, though? Does he make you feel better after a visit?”

 

“Yes, please don’t tell him, he’s not allowed to know that Morisawa’s kind of slutty.” Izumi’s mouth twitches, and he smoothes away the affectionate expression before he can let it show. “I’ve never _not_ felt well-fed after being with him. And it’s the same with Leo, and we used to, very literally, not stop touching for days on end.”

 

“I—“

 

Ritsu opens his mouth, then shuts it again, startled. “Huh. I just remembered something. Did I tell you ever why I never really feed from either Arashi or Leo?”

 

“No. I thought you were just keeping your distance because of me, honestly.”

 

Ritsu shake his head. “They’re bitter. Blood-wise. I’ve tasted it lots of times, but never as often as in the past fifteen. I think you might be secreting some kind of protection in the ones you really love. You should ask Morisawa’s fish lover, though that might not change anything, since they’re bonded.”

 

“He actually, um, asked me? To keep Morisawa company? I know that makes me sound like a concubine or something, but…” Izumi shrugs awkwardly. “He was dealing with political fish stuff and was going to be gone, and seemed to think Morisawa _needed_ to have someone like me around. This was years ago, but it stuck out as something weird then, and it sounds even weirder now. Ugh, I hate the word _secreting_ , that’s so groooosss to think about…”

 

“Uh…emanating? Excreting? That’s probably just as bad, sounds like you’re shitting. Spraying? Releasing? Discharging? Emitting?”

 

“Noooooo. Stop, please, stoop, I want to diiiie…”

 

“Producing! You’re producing it!”

 

“Fine, that’s slightly less disgusting,” Izumi bemoans, curled up into a cringing ball. “I can’t believe I’m making my favorites _flavored.”_ He pauses, then eyes Ritsu, then says nothing.

 

“What? What’s that look?”

 

“I mean. Ugh. Don’t make me _say it._ ” Izumi scowls. “You, too, probably.”

 

“Huh.” Ritsu frowns, then calls, “Reeeeeeei! Come in here, or I’ll stop calling you by your name and call you something worse!”

 

That’s probably the quickest Izumi has ever seen Rei appear, even though he’s slightly tousled for it. “Yeees, Ritsu, my love? And hello, Izumi, of course.”

 

“Do I taste different since I started being with Izumi?” Ritsu demands, cocking his head. “Testing a theory.”

 

Rei pauses, tapping a finger to his lips as he contemplates that for a moment, then he leans over the bathtub, holding out his hand. “Wrist. I need another sip to remind me.”

 

Ritsu hands over his wrist, mildly intrigued.

 

Rei bends, biting down carefully and without any fuss, just enough to draw a few droplets of blood that his tongue swiftly laps up. “Hm. And here I attributed that to you fluttering in and out of the Shadowlands so much over the years…” he muses, straightening. “But no, you definitely taste different. It’s not bad, by any means, but…I suppose it could be off-putting, to someone that isn’t your brother.”

 

Ritsu narrows his gaze at Izumi. “You secreted at me.”

 

“Not intentionally! Ugggh, please don’t use that _word_ , it makes me feel like I’m some weird squirty thing!”

 

“You squirted in my blood! I bet you did it in my aura, too, like a warning for other predators not to eat me. Wow. You know who does that?” Ritsu jerks his thumb up at Rei. “He does. It’s that weird-ass tainted blood of his, makes him into a super predator. Only someone who lives in the Shadowlands would notice his marks, though.” Ritsu looks upwards at Rei. “His taint.”

 

Rei fake-gasps, clutching a hand over his heart as if thoroughly offended. “I’m wounded. Tainted blood, goodness, I can’t help that I was born to be territorial.”

 

“Thanks, I really hate this.”

 

“Do you know who else does it?”

 

“No, I—“

 

“Wataru. But he’s _very_ selective.”

 

“Thanks, I didn’t want to know that at all, and I’m very disturbed. It’s really weird to be called a predator, you know?”

 

“You can go,” Ritsu informs his brother, turning back to Izumi. “Humans are predators. Why is it weird to be one?”

 

“It’s the way _you_ say it that’s weird. Also, Arashi teased me about it, like an asshole,” Izumi huffs, folding his arms across his chest as Rei drifts back into the shadows. “You know, like it was a sex joke or something.”

 

“Is it really predation if you’re only…I mean, hell,” Ritsu says with a snort, “if you are an intimacy love wizard, like I think you are, it’s basically impossible for you to feed on someone unwilling. Like Rei. I doubt it would work, you know? If they didn’t want you, it’d probably lock your magic out.”

 

That’s one of the first things that actually makes Izumi visibly, fully relax in a long while. “Oh. That’s better, much better. Good.”

 

“The thing about half-breeds,” Ritsu says softly, “is that there’s really no rule. No two are exactly the same. It’s not like math. It’s more like alchemy than chemistry. Sex, birth, those are all such…uhhhhh…it’s magic, you know? The same creature-human breeding with the same creature and same human done three different times could turn out three kids, one with all the powers of the creature, one with none of them, and one with powers no one’s ever heard of. There are some correlations, but mostly…get ready to be surprised, you know? But your magic seems totally consensual. And if it wasn’t…” Ritsu smiles, fond and a little shadowed. “Your heart is.”

 

“…I’m going to tell everyone that you’re being sweet to me and no one’s going to believe me because you’re usually so mean,” Izumi grumbles, his face flushing as he leans over and grabs Ritsu, kissing him soundly before he can protest. “Thank you. That does make me feel a lot better. I just…I don’t want it getting the better of me and turning into a different person, does that make sense? That sort of stuff really scares me.”

 

Ritsu slowly finds himself turning pink, and tucks his knees up to his chest, only startling himself a little when his knees press against his tits. “You won’t. I promise. And if you do, I’ll kill you. I promise.”

 

“Good. I’m holding you to that, now.” Izumi sits back with a soft breath, briefly shutting his eyes. “Right. I can do this. This is a lot more manageable of an idea than just…fucking every woman in sight. With that in mind—can I ask for one favor? For experimentation purposes?”

 

“You want a girl?” Ritsu asks, cocking his head. “I can have one brought here.”

 

“No, I…I really want to see Leo,” Izumi admits, glancing away when his face flushes. “I haven’t been with him in…five years, and before that, we were kind of distant, because of how his bonded was affecting him. I know, I know, probably it’s just women or whatever that I need to roll around for hours every damn day, but if he _is_ a big part of it…that’d be good, right? When I was a teenager, as soon as I started sleeping with him—that’s when my magic started getting _really_ strong.”

 

Ritsu smiles, something wistful tugging at his heart, and sinks down into the water. “You want to go down there? Or bring him up here? Or just see him through magic? It’d be kinda hard to do a two-way talking spell, but I could show you to him easy as anything.”

 

“No, I—there’s no real way to really put it other than I want to eat him? I don’t think just talking to him will make that go away.”

 

“I mean, you could walk there. Or ride a horse, I refuse to believe that Bitch won’t take you that far.” Ritsu frowns. “What are you asking me, exactly? I’m not keeping you…”

 

And then it dawns on him. “Oh. Um. I can try. It might take a while. Don’t blame me if it goes wrong, I’ve never tried this before. But yeah, I have no objections, I’ll try it.”

 

“I mean—to be fair, last I heard, he was off flying around on a dragon? So I don’t even know if we’d be able to find him that easily…ugh, I don’t want to ask your brother for help, but…”

 

Ritsu blinks, now far more confused. “Wait, I thought you wanted me to shift into him. _What_ are you asking?”

 

“Oh, no, that totally wouldn’t do it for me,” Izumi hastily says, waving a hand. “Too weird. I guess I’m asking—um, how easy is it to learn shapeshifting, anyway?”

 

“Um…about as hard as learning how to fly,” Ritsu decides. “With about as much risk. Depends how you do it, of course. My way is the shitty way, but at least it’s real. Rei’s is the cheating way, but it’s easy for him. I just turn into my own version of a thing. Like if I turn into a bat, that’s who I’d be as a bat. Rei can do anything, but if he loses his concentration or his magic, he slips back. If I lose my magic, I _can’t_ change back until it regenerates.”

 

“Next question. If I hypothetically shapeshifted into a woman and then got knocked up, do I have to stay like that the whole time? Or can I like…go back to being a man but also pregnant or…how does _any_ of that work, actually. Hypothetically.”

 

Ritsu shrugs. “That one, no idea at all. Very curious to know, actually. Anyone capable of shapeshifting is a wizard, you know? And wizards usually can’t have children, so, I dunno. Try it. I’m fascinated.”

 

“I don’t like being the test subject,” Izumi sing-songs. “This takes me back to when Shu cut off my foot for science! But okay, sure, that sounds like a terrible idea. If time is still stopped here—teach me.”

 

“Cool. We should get out of the bath first.” Ritsu quirks an eyebrow. “As long as you’re rested. Because this…may take a while.”

 


	14. Chapter 14

 

High Harbor is a welcome change to the North and to everything strange within the Shadowlands. It’s temperate even in winter, and the salty, humid air doesn’t burn his lungs like the cold does, or like the strange, heavy air of demon country.

 

What Izumi forgets, of course, is that the High Harbor estate guard knows _him_ , not…well. _This_ him.

 

After arguing with guards for half an hour—and being told to act more ladylike, how dare they, is this how men really talk?!—Izumi gives up, steers Bitch away from the front gates, and opts for alternate methods. He’s been here enough times to know better—specifically, how there’s a series of underground entrances that lead, inexplicably, to the master suite of the whole damned place.

 

He doesn’t specifically need to go _there_ , but…maybe that’s where Shu is staying? It’s worth hoping. Izumi slinks his way inside, and throws his weight into the old, rusty door until it creaks open, scraping against the wooden floor of the room in question.

 

“Well. I don’t usually forget a face, but I’m willing to pretend for your sake, sweetheart.”

 

The man that stands from the bed is certainly _not_ Shu. He’s tall, lean, fair-haired, and sleeps with a holy dagger under his pillow, sheathed so as not to startle any of his companions. Kaoru, Paladin of the White Holy Order, slowly stretches, his nightshirt only falling to his upper thighs. “What is your name, how did you get in, and how can I get you to do it again?”

 

Well, damn. This isn’t his favorite person to run into, but…it’s not the worst, Izumi supposes.

 

If he’s not immediately recognized as being…well, Izumi, that’s probably good, isn’t it? He’s not entirely sure, truth be told. Izumi huffs, and kicks the heavy, dusty door shut behind himself. “Do you seriously not recognize me?” he demands, folding his arms over his chest. The higher voice is definitely not helping, he’s sure. He still dresses like a man, even with the swell of his loosely bound chest being decidedly noticeable underneath his tunic, and the fall of his silver hair is longer, no matter how he tries to cut it back when he shifts. It just _wants_ to be long, falling in heavy waves half-way down his back that he ties low against his neck. “It’s Izumi, you idiot.”

 

Kaoru hesitates. His eyes travel immediately down, then accusatorially back up. “What did you stuff in those to make them look so real?” he demands. “And your voice, and even your face? What the fuck?”

 

“They _are_ real, dipshit. Aren’t you Rei’s lover? This shouldn’t be weird for you.” Even still, he can’t help but be smug. Good. He’s _convincing._

 

Kaoru’s jaw drops. “You—holy shit,” he swears, evidently not noticing the irony. “Why’d he change you?”

 

“He didn’t. I’m a wizard, too, you know.” Izumi huffs again, flipping his hair back over his shoulder. “Anyway, where’s Shu? He’s here, right?”

 

“Guest quarters,” Kaoru says, waving his hand vaguely. “If they’re real, uh, they’re nice. They look really nice.”

 

Izumi scowls, and grabs that waving hand, dragging it over to one of his breasts. “See? They’re real,” he flatly says. “And fucking annoying when I’m riding a horse.”

 

“Oh, they’re _really_ nice,” Kaoru says, voice a little hushed. “Wow, uh…yeah. What did you want?” His hand moves instinctively, cupping, squeezing just slightly.

 

“Are all men really like this?” Izumi incredulously asks, batting Kaoru’s hand away. “Wow. Your guards are rude, too, by the way, you should scold them.”

 

“Rude to a lady?” Kaoru asks, scandalized, as he pulls back. “Forget scolding, I’ll toss them into the ocean. Which entrance?”

 

“Front gates. Apparently, I’m not ladylike enough for them,” Izumi tosses over his shoulder as he makes a break for it. “Rei says hello, by the way.”

 

Izumi marks that down as a vague success—as successful as any conversation with Kaoru ever is, whatever—and makes his way down the hall. Seeing magic is so _much_ easier after spending an extended period around Rei and Ritsu; everything else seems so much more distinct that finding the door that Shu lies behind is child’s play, and Izumi hesitates in front of it before knocking, suddenly nervous.

 

“I am neither free nor happy to be disturbed,” comes the snappish answer from behind the door. “Find someone less busy to bother, Paladin. I’m _trying_ to save this city. And I don’t have breasts, so go away.”

 

“It’s not Kaoru, don’t worry,” Izumi hastily says. “It’s…it’s Izumi.”

 

The door flies open so fast Shu may have been sitting near it. He looks considerably less put-together than usual, his hair less coiffed, his clothing unbuttoned and a huge robe tied around his waist, but it’s undeniably Shu, and he grabs Izumi in a fierce hug…

 

…That lasts all of two seconds, at which point Shu squawks awkwardly and leaps back. “You—how did you learn that? That’s _really_ advanced magic, you haven’t even graduated yet!”'

 

“I’ve been in the Shadowlands—for _awhile_.” Izumi beams all the same, unable to stop himself when Shu, of all people, praises him. It’s not like he’s never understood Mika’s constant seeking of Shu’s approval. “So it’s convincing, right? I did it right?”

 

“You did it perfectly,” Shu says, sounding mystified. “I’m—I’m very impressed with you. Hold still.” He walks in a very slow circle, eyes searching, taking in every tiny swell and dip of Izumi’s body. “Incredible. Truly incredible. Did you incant, sacrifice, or just form the shape in your mind?”

 

“Hold on, these are bigger, I tied them down so I could ride,” Izumi grouses, twisting an arm underneath his shirt to loosen the bindings holding his chest at least somewhat flatter. “There, I guess. I started out with incantations but now I just think about it? It’s harder that way, but less time-consuming…shit, you’re tall. I mean, you were before, but now you’re _noticeably_ tall.”

 

“And you are absolutely exquisite,” Shu murmurs, unable to stop himself from coming close, touching Izumi’s delicate curls, as if he’s never seen hair before. “I want to sketch you. No, I want to make you clothes. Hold still, I like looking at you even more that way.”

 

Shu is definitely still Shu, and that makes Izumi sag with relief, in spite of how he’s told to stay still. “Can I sit down so you can look at me? I’ve been riding since last night, and Bitch is…well. A bitch.”

 

Shu’s brow furrows. “I suppose you _can_ ,” he mutters. “Just lay down, if you’re tired. Sitting is the least attractive position for a human body.”

 

“Sure, if you say so,” Izumi dismissively says, taking that as an offer to stride into Shu’s bedroom and collapse back onto his bed with a satisfied groan. “It looks like you stole a whole library and stashed it in here,” he says, looking over the packed-full desk of books and scrolls and papers through lidded eyes. “Rei says hello to you too, by the way.”

 

“Yes, I know,” Shu says, in that distractingly weird way of the telepath. He rubs his hands together, then locks the door before taking his high-backed seat, somewhere among the irregular sprawl of his materials. “I did, this is all of Kaoru’s relevant materials. I’m absorbing as fast as I can. What size are they, by the way? So firm.”

 

“Too big? You tell me,” Izumi huffs, sitting up enough to take his shirt off in the unmistakably, uncaring manner of someone usually male, and not _entirely_ processing that tits are to be treated more delicately in their exposure. “I think they make me look fat.”

 

“Then you’re an idiot.” Shu’s voice is mild, despite the words, and he taps his chin, clearly evaluating Izumi’s body in a detached, appreciative way that has nothing to do with anything below his own neck. “No, no, they’re quite perfect. Lovely nipples, also.”

 

“This is why I’m talking to you first,” Izumi says with a heavy sigh. “You aren’t going to be gross and you’re going to be honest. The opinion of those brothers is kind of shit, after awhile. So if I show up in the Capital like this…Leo would probably not hate it, right?”

 

Shu blinks. “I have no idea. Does he like women? Sexually? I often forget that many men do. Though why they would want to soil something so lovely, I cannot understand.”

 

“I think so? I mean, I’ve never heard of him touching another woman, but he used to like the stories I’d tell him about it…” Izumi looks plaintively back at him. “At least tell me I did this right. Like, you’d really just think I was a normal human woman, right?”

 

“You did it perfectly,” Shu says, so firmly that his tone brooks no argument whatsoever. “Any man who likes women will be utterly consumed with lust. And if they know anything about magic, they will be both lustful and impressed.”

 

Izumi settles at that, openly relieved. “All right. Good. I’m going to test some things. Ritsu and I figured out a lot about my magic.”

 

“Excellent. It’s about time.” Shu thinks for a moment, and takes Izumi’s clothes, immediately magicking a hatstand into a dressform in Izumi’s new measurements. “Test away, I’m a decent teacher. Don’t mind me, I’m making your clothes beautiful.”

 

“Ah…thank you? You don’t have to, though, I know you’re probably tired,” Izumi says, though there’s not really any chance Shu will stop, knowing him. “I wanted to ask something, because you’re even more well-read than Ritsu and Rei combined. Have you ever read about any cases of shapeshifters—not wizards, just…shapeshifting creatures—…well…” Actually, that’s embarrassing. “W-well, have you ever read about them getting pregnant in one body and then shifting around afterwards?”

 

Shu frowns slightly, fingers moving swiftly, accurately through creases, folds, and pinning, doing the work of every tool augmented by magic even when his proper tools are far away at home. “The lore is split,” he says, his answer more scholarly than personal. “Some anecdotal studies speak of shapeshifters becoming pregnant—it used to be common, of course, since shapeshifting has long been an innate magic in some now-extinct tribes. Some anecdotes say that some shapeshifters have been able to shift back to their original gender or species, but it always induces a miscarriage. Others say the shifter is trapped in the alternate form until the birth of the child, that’s what most of the literature says, as a consensus. My personal belief is that if a shifter does shift back and claim that it caused a miscarriage, it’s most likely that they’d already miscarried without knowing it. It’s apparently one way to control a shifter, by causing them to fall pregnant while in shift, since it neutralizes their powers fro a good 40 weeks. I’m altering these colors, they’re doing nothing for your skin.”

 

“Do whatever you want, I don’t care.” Izumi rolls onto his stomach, squashing his boobs underneath his weight because that’s still sort of fun. “That’s very useful information, thank you. I’m asking, of course, because I’m going to try it.”

 

“Yes, good, experiential learning is—“

 

Shu stops talking in the middle of his sentence, then closes his mouth. Carefully, he turns to stare at Izumi. “I confess,” he says lightly, “I was mostly talking about interspecies shifting, as that is most of the literature. It took me a moment. But, well, good. Let me spoil that child. Marry that man of yours. After what he’s been doing lately, I daresay he even deserves it.”

 

Izumi’s face turns pink as he glances away, shoving it down into a pillow. “And what, pray tell,” he asks, voice muffled, “has he been doing. I’ve been under a rock, entirely.”

 

“He fired every minister and drove them all out of the city under pain of death if they broke exile.”

 

“Um?” Izumi’s head pops back up. “Seriously?”

 

“Every single one,” Shu confirms, smiling to himself as he kneels, starting on the hems first. “He told them that they would be allowed to retain their positions if they swore under truth spell that they would serve no personal interest before the realm’s. The entire country is in an uproar, two cities are considering sending armies to storm the Capital. I think it’s wonderful.”

 

Izumi’s lower lip wobbles, and he stuffs his face firmly down into the pillow again. “Of course it’s wonderful,” he huffs wetly. “ _He’s_ wonderful. I’ll kill anyone trying to storm the Capital, fuck everyone else.”

 

“You don’t need to worry about that, I believe,” Shu says idly, fingers making quick work of pleats and cuffs alike. “Apparently, the one army foolish enough to get close met with an unfortunate accident. The other simply disappeared. In unrelated news, always fall in love with a king who has somehow managed to impress a dragon old and strong enough to be a god.”

 

At that, Izumi growls, low and grumbly, his feet thumping down against the bed as he kicks. “While that’s good and all,” he moodily says, “that’s going to make my arrival much less impressive. Whatever, I was only planning on sneaking in through his window for a night, anyway. I’m busy, and this is an experiment.”

 

Shu pauses in his work, then looks back over his shoulder at Izumi. “You have enemies enough to defend him against, you know. Better that he has you at his side to defend him from the ones he and his dragon _don’t_ see coming. And the Warden won’t stick around long, after all. He never does. And a dragon won’t help him much when his dinner guest decides to slide a cheese knife between his ribs. That’ll be for you, seated at his hand.”

 

“That’s for me, eventually. Do you want me to stick around in the Capital and play bodyguard,” Izumi quietly says, “or do you want me to stop archdemons and drude in the North while fiddling with my magic to make it useful enough to heal Mika up again? Believe me, I want to stay with him, but I don’t think that’s plausible right now.”

 

A slender, cold knife slides easily into Shu’s heart, where the rest of them are, one for each time he thinks of Mika. “As I said,” he says briskly, changing the subject and blinking too-fast, “whatever you need. I am better read than both my lord and his brother, you’re right, so whatever I can do to help, I gladly will.”

 

“It’s okay. You already answered the main thing I was curious about.” Izumi doesn’t look at him, and instead plucks at a pillow tassel. “Ritsu thinks my magic feeds off of intimacy…love, whatever, something like that. I met with my father, and he told me to fuck women again. That sort of worked, but not as much as I thought it would, which is how Ritsu got the idea. I’m going to test how it works with Leo, for a few different reasons. And if I end up pregnant—well, that’s good, _and_ we can also test to see if that does anything to my magic. Some old, old documents implied that would do something, but everything in the Shadowlands is really vague.”

 

Shu frowns, adjusting fit around the theoretical model of Izumi’s body in his mind, carefully setting his seams before summoning thread. It’s the cheap, cheating way to do it, but quite frankly, his research is taking up too much room for his sewing supplies to have a chance. “I’ve heard a little something about that. Again, most of the research I’ve read was based on female shamans who shifted into wolves and bears and horses and things, got pregnant in that form, and were forced to carry the child. That’s behind many creation stories, apparently, and has produced some of the most powerful beings the world has ever seen, or so legend holds. It’s ancient magic. I…I honestly wouldn’t be surprised at anything that happened.”

 

“Excellent. I’m going to create something delightfully unholy, then. Or holy? Who knows. The royal line is supposed to be from paladins.”

 

“Well. I already know what it’s going to make, as far as the most important thing.”

 

Shu straightens up from the ground, tugging firmly on the mannequin. “It’ll be beautiful. Almost unbearably so. Try to have another girl, I want to make more dresses.”

 

“Girls are the only acceptable option, as far as I’m concerned.” Izumi sighs, plopping his chin down into one hand. “Anyway—I’m hoping this helps my magic…untangle? Relax? Actually function normally again? Literally anything at this point would be good. I’m tired of being useless. Have you ever actually been to the Shadowlands, by the way?”

 

“Mm, no. Rei seems to think that everything will try to eat me. I’m quite attached to not being eaten.” Shu straightens a seam, then adds a few darts. “You aren’t useless, by the way. You never have been. You have worth as a person, no matter what skills you choose to cultivate. Don’t be stupid.”

 

“You probably would get eaten,” Izumi agrees, his eyes lidded as he watches Shu. “But if you do go, go with Rei, and check out his magic while you’re there. It scares me, but it would probably turn you on. Also, I’ll feel less useless once I’m capable of saving at least one person I care about, but thank you all the same.”

 

“I can see Rei up there just fine, thank you. He and I are hardly limited to conventional ways of conversing. Here, come put these on, I want to test the drape. I cannot believe you were running around in men’s clothes on that beautiful body.”

 

“No, I mean…never mind, it’s you, you probably already know what I mean, but it was still new to me,” Izumi grumbles, slowly rolling off of the bed with a sigh. “I didn’t want to get harassed on the road. I still don’t. Men are pigs.”

 

Shu’s hands are as efficient as ever in dressing Izumi, though the back of one hand lingers on Izumi’s stomach for a second too long, and an odd, furtive look comes over Shu’s face. It’s gone in another second, and he straightens up, nodding firmly to himself. “That’s better. Not as good as it would have been if I’d had the cloth from scratch, but definitely presentable.”

 

“Sometimes, I really remember that you should’ve been the king’s tailor or something,” Izumi wistfully says, glancing into a nearby mirror with approval. “I’m definitely going to be harassed, now I’m too beautiful.”

 

He then reaches out, grabbing one of Shu’s hands. “You smell different when your thoughts…go places,” he says, pupils slitting for a moment before returning to normal with his next blink. “What’s wrong?”

 

A tiny flicker of pain creases Shu’s face, but he shakes his head, blinking rapidly, though he doesn’t pull his hand back, warm in Izumi’s grasp. “It’s stupid.”

 

“I doubt it.” Izumi squeezes Shu’s hand. “If you thought it would work, somehow, I’d lend my uterus out to you,” he says wryly. “I’m still willing to try.”

 

“I—“ Shu smiles, though it isn’t a happy expression. “As I said, it’s stupid. I was just thinking…if it had worked with Mika, before…I’d have something left of him. I told you, stupid.”

 

“You’re about to have plenty of him again, if I have anything to do with it,” Izumi huffs, releasing Shu’s hand. “Then you’ll be sick of him all over again.”

 

Shu doesn’t bother to correct Izumi, only pats him on the head, then fusses a bit with his hair, because he’s still himself. “You really should marry that king. We need a queen. And you make a phenomenal woman. And you deserve it. He’s…he’s better, when you’re around.”

 

“I don’t want to _stay_ like this, you know,” Izumi grouses, letting Shu fuss with his hair like a bird attempting to groom someone else’s feathers. “I want to marry him, but…if I do that, then I’m abandoning the North, more or less. I don’t know. First things first, if I give him an heir, then it’s a much more legitimate arrangement no matter what.”

 

“The country will settle down in general with a proper heir,” Shu agrees. “Did you hear that fake concubine of his disappeared?”

 

“Incredible,” Izumi deadpans, folding his arms across his chest—then adjusting with a grumble. “Boobs are heavy, what the hell. Ritsu and I spent an hour talking about what everyone would look like as a woman, and when we got to you, Rei had to leave the room.”

 

That makes a real smile cross Shu’s face. “Promise me you’ll stay at least one day, so I can put you in proper women’s clothes? You don’t have any undergarment support, that’s why they feel so heavy. You need a corset, or a bustier.”

 

“I’m not going to deny there’s a certain appeal in having a corset ripped off upon my arrival,” Izumi absently says. “But I _really_ shouldn’t stick around past tonight. It’s not like I’m trying to make a grand entrance, I just wanted to be with him for a day.”

 

“But—but without proper support, they could start to sag!”

 

“You really miss having a dress-up doll, don’t you. Has Natsume not visited at all?”

 

“Don’t deny me my small pleasures, I’m trying to close a Sorrow’s Gate by myself here.”

 

Izumi heaves a sigh, looking aside. “…Fine. I can stay until tomorrow afternoon. Is that good enough? Please don’t put me in anything that’s hard to ride in, I’m not going to a formal ball, I just want to roll around with the king for a night.”

 

Shu looks scandalized. “Have I ever shown such callous disregard in my tailoring? Nonsense, you’ll leave in the morning, it just means I have to work all night, and I was going to do that, anyway. Have a seat, find something to amuse yourself, I’m going to get some fabric.”

 

Izumi plops himself back down, suppressing a little yawn of his own. “It really is a shame you don’t like women,” he says, slowly melting back down onto the bed with a sigh. “I wasn’t sure, actually. But I absolutely would’ve tested this whole thing out with you.”

 

“I—“

 

Shu closes his mouth, pressing his lips together. Finally, he says, though it sounds like it’s a bit of a struggle, “If I were ever to try it…it would be with you, I think.”

 

Izumi perks up at that, looking entirely too pleased. “With me? And not with Rei? Nice, I knew you had good taste.”

 

“It’s his female form. Too…” Shu makes a vague gesture with his hands. “I don’t know. I believe that if I were a man who liked women, in a sexual way, I’d prefer them more, well. Fine-boned. Delicate. Elfin.”

 

“When he’s a woman, he _looks_ like he’s a succubus about to eat you,” Izumi says with a knowing nod. “That’s not my type, either. I’ve just always liked the way noble ladies look and dress. If you were a woman—you’d be my type. Very…aristocratic.”

 

“Oh, yes,” Shu agrees. “Now sit here while I fetch some supplies. And if you stay that beautiful…” He shrugs one shoulder, a slight, aristocratic motion. “Perhaps I’ll discover whether I’m truly incapable, or merely preferential.” And with that, he sweeps out of the room, laser-focused on fabric goals.

 

~

 

It’s not the first time he has scaled up the trellis leading up to Leo’s window, and it will not be the last.

 

Still, it’s harder than Izumi remembers it being. He blames the tits. He also might be carting his sword at his hip out of habit this time, which does like to catch on vines and make him bite back curses when he’s nearly yanked down to his death.

 

He swings himself up onto the balcony, finally, and heaves a long sigh, flopping back against the railing for a moment to collect himself. It feels like it has been _forever_ since he’s been in the Capital—and it _has_ been, hasn’t it? Steeling himself, he goes to the balcony door, only to find it locked. Grumpily, he fiddles with it, hoping it’s still in the shitty state it was when he was a teenager, but alas, _he_ was the one who had this sort of thing fixed. Izumi looks around, then stretches up onto his tiptoes, straining to paw around for the hidden key tucked into a crevice of heavy stone wall, and finds it after some effort. _Success_.

 

Most times in his life, Leo would be asleep at this hour of night. Now, with what he’s been doing with the government rehaul and the rest of his grand plans, he’s spent every night doing paperwork by the light of several dripping candles and a few steady, white globes of light, magically provided by the Academy. He slumps over his desk, watching his own cramped writing run together, and rubs his eyes, dropping his quill into his inkwell. “If there’s someone out there waiting in the shadows to kill me,” he says into the darkness, as he does several times a night, “now is a _really_ good time.”

 

The balcony door creaks open after some finagling, and Izumi pulls the curtains aside, eyes readjusting in the dim light with a faint blue glow. “Leo?” The door shuts, nudged back into place by a swift prod of his heel.

 

The sight of Leo makes his heart thud, and Izumi swallows, suddenly self-conscious, nervous, and a dozen other things at once. “Long time no see,” he manages, his face flushed.

 

Leo’s eyes widen, and he knocks over his inkwell, turning and leaping all at once, tackling Izumi to the ground, squeezing so tightly that he—

 

He pulls back, startled, and looks down. “Eh? _EHHH???”_

 

“Shhh,” Izumi hisses, shoving a hand over Leo’s mouth. “You’ll make your guards come running—or they _should_ come running, if they’re doing their job correctly.” Face still pink, he lowers his hand, huffing. “I…um, Ritsu taught me a few things. If you hate it, I can change back.”

 

“This…” Leo swallows hard, hands visibly trembling. “Um, it’s…this is…that is…” His face flushes bright, painfully red, and then he leans down fast, knocking Izumi’s hand away to kiss him fiercely, lips and tongue and teeth intent.

 

Izumi squeaks, but that’s the last sound he utters for a moment when relief, swift and all-encompassing, rushes through him. His hands bury themselves into Leo’s hair, all of that familiar, twilight-colored mess tangling around his fingers, and he sags down to the floor, chest heaving. “I’ve _missed_ you,” he whispers, his eyes fluttering.

 

“I love you,” Leo responds, eyes stinging with tears as he kisses Izumi’s lips, his cheeks, his chin, his forehead, his hair, every part of him he can reach. “I love you, I love you, I--can I have you all night? Can we—is this real?”

 

“I think it is?” Izumi manages with a thready little laugh, trying not to start sniffling, and failing, just a little. “All night would be very, very good—but not on the floor, please? I’ve been riding for days, and before that, I was in the North, and Northerners have terrible beds.”

 

“I’m an ass,” Leo mutters to himself, hopping up, then executing a perfectly formal bow, bending over one knee as if Izumi is a lady of the court, offering his hand. “Fair lady,” he says softly. “Do me the honor. I beg you.” This is weird, it’s insane, but what is normal in this country anymore?

 

The heat that rushes back to his face is enough to make him dizzy. _Damn it, stop being so good at that when you want to be._ “I hardly look like a fancy lady right now, you know,” Izumi huffily says, but takes Leo’s hand nonetheless, squeezing it as he picks himself up. “If I hadn’t stopped to see Shu, I’d be a real mess.”

 

“I thought I detected his skillful hand in your beauty,” Leo says, bowing over the hand, then kissing the back of it, a respectful brush of the lips. He slowly takes in Izumi’s clothing, with the fancy bustier making everything look especially…sumptuous…and swallows hard. “Gods. I thought you looked good before—and you do, you did, you do, you…but, uh…” His voice trembles. “It’s so hard not to just jump on you right now, heh, don’t make too much fun of me…”

 

“Said as if I don’t want you to.” Izumi kicks off his boots after a swift unlacing, and throws himself back onto the bed, sprawling out over familiar bedding and smells with a pleased sigh. “Get over here, Milord. I want to be unlaced and ravished.”

 

Leo has never been _especially_ good at resisting temptation, especially when that temptation doesn’t seem to come with any downsides. He tosses his trousers to the side, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like _woohoo_ , and leaps onto the bed, sealing his mouth to Izumi’s in a warm, urgent kiss, nipping and sucking on his bottom lip, hands dropping down to clumsily work at that fancy bodice that seems determined to thwart him. “Give me…a minute, I’m on this, I can do it—I’m going to kill Shu the next time I see him—“

 

“Just leave it on, you can take it off for the second round,” Izumi breathes, head rolling back with a hitching gasp as Leo’s all-too-familiar mouth and hands make his thighs automatically splay. “Please? Ahh, gods, I’ve been thinking about this for _days_ , I’m going to diiie…”

 

Leo leans down to kiss at Izumi’s neck, leaving a bruise he doesn’t regret, no matter it’ll be gone in half a second. “I don’t know why you did this,” he whispers, hands sliding up Izumi’s thighs, rucking up his skirts. “But I can only imagine some dream goddess heard my prayers and blessed me. Is it…” His hands slide upward, and he answers his own question, feeling soft hairs covering substantially less than he usually touches between Izumi’s legs. He lets out a soft curse, and his head thunks down on Izumi’s shoulder, more swears and prayers falling from his lips as his fingers tremble, exploring, as if he’s still not sure he’s allowed.

 

Leo’s touch is _so_ overstimulating that Izumi bites his lip to muffle the noise that wells up in his throat. His toes curl just with that touch, and he reaches down a trembling hand, grabbing at Leo’s wrist to urge that seeking hand where he wants it, where he’s already slick, almost dripping. “It’s the real thing,” he says with a ragged little laugh. “I, ah…I got sick of coming up with alternative solutions to problems that needed fixing, so I…”

 

“So you fixed something I never would have said was a problem,” Leo breathes, eyes dancing. He licks his lips, then shifts forward, reaching his left hand down to stroke himself slowly. “Ah…I feel like I should take it slow, but it isn’t as if we’re really strangers…I, fuck, I just want you so much?”

 

“You not having an heir is the problem.”

 

Izumi bites at his lip, shifting to wrap his thighs around Leo’s waist as he drags him down by the front of his shirt. “We’ve got all night to talk about that. If you’re not in me _now_ , I’m probably going to start actually eating you.”

 

It’s taken all of Leo’s self control to get to this point without tackling Izumi down through the mattress, and it evaporates immediately. There might be some distant mental rumble about wondering what Izumi is talking about, but Leo ignores that, all of that, everything except how perfect Izumi feels when he slides—

 

Nope, not quite. The head of his cock hits slick wetness and slides up, them away from where he’s pretty sure the hole is. Leo grumbles, then reaches his fingers down, tracing them carefully up, then down, before sinking into— “It’s all the way down here?” he asks, a little confused, before hurriedly sliding his cock towards that inviting hole, then _in_.

 

Did he absolutely test everything with Ritsu? Yes. Does it still feel different with Leo and somehow like it’s so much _more?_ _Yes._

 

Izumi arches with a hitching little gasp, his nails dragging down Leo’s spine as his back lifts off the bed, a whimper stuck in his throat when Leo sinks inside. “D-don’t worry, it’s in, it’s in,” he groans, letting his head loll back as he sucks in an almost frantic breath. Maybe it’s the constriction of too-tight laces still, but more likely, it’s heady rush of Leo being _in him_ after so long. A tremor runs down his spine as his thighs tighten around Leo’s waist, clinging there uselessly for a moment before wrapping around to cross at his lower back. “Ahh…gods, it feels so good when you’re in me…”

 

Hot tears splash down into Izumi’s laces. Leo doesn’t even notice them coming out of his eyes, not when Izumi is so perfect, so beautiful, so perfect around him, so much like all of his dreams are coming true at once that he’s utterly, stunningly overwhelmed.

 

He braces his knees, toes digging in to the mattress as he slides in slowly, not wanting to hurt when Izumi is so achingly tight, and he groans as he pushes in, feeling the squeeze around him as much as it ever has been, mouth falling to the soft, cloth covered breasts straining at Izumi’s laces. It’s easy enough to yank the top part of Izumi’s top down, just enough to get his mouth around one pert nipple. “It’s—this is real, right?” he whispers, eyes flicking up to make sure Izumi’s are still that familiar stormy gray.

 

For a moment, Izumi’s vision whites out, a ragged little whine escaping his lips when Leo _moves_. His body clenches down, helpless to do anything but that, wanting to hold onto him in anyway possible when he’s so, _so_ desperate to never let Leo out of his sight again. “It’s—it’s real, I swear,” he pants out, habit making him dislodge the tie in Leo’s hair in a familiar, needy gesture as he clings to that handful as well. “Leooo…”

 

Their bodies have always moved together perfectly. It’s no different now—if anything, it’s even better, somehow both of them rocking, twisting, jerking as hard as they can, and somehow it _works_ , both of them coming together with thrust after thrust, ecstasy pulsing through Leo long before he’s ready to spill. “You want it inside you, right?” he breathes, eyes alight. “You, you want me in you, right? Just—ask for it, please, I’m begging—“

 

“Don’t beg, you don’t have to beg,” Izumi groans, clinging to Leo’s neck to bury his own face there, trembling as he ruts down with breathless little noises leaving his throat. The friction is ideal—just grinding down makes his breath hiccup, especially when Leo sinks in _deep_. Izumi expects Leo to be clumsier about this, and he is, a little, but that doesn’t make it any less _satisfying_. “Please— _please_ come in me, I want it so, _so_ badly…”

 

“It—it feels right, doesn’t it?” Leo’s voice is a helpless whimper by the end of the sentence, and he slams in deep, rolling his hips, watching Izumi’s face searchingly to see what makes him bite his lip, what makes him buck and writhe, doing that as much as he can, again and again. “Like that? It’s—there’s something right there, you like it, don’t you?”

 

“I—y-yes, I—“

 

Izumi’s voice breaks on a startled little yelp, and his face flames as he twists, clutching at Leo’s back and burying his face down into his shoulder with a little sob. “R-right there—“ Whatever Leo’s cock brushes against makes him tense and shudder, the tension shooting straight down his legs. Each heaving breath he draws into his lungs only makes him dizzier, and its with a broken, rasping whine that he suddenly comes, clenching down helplessly, each spasm making him gasp and buck.

 

_Women can—_

 

The startling new information surges through Leo, taking him by surprise when it picks him up and shakes him, and spilling his seed into Izumi like this just feels _different_. That idea takes hold of him, and he kisses Izumi so hard he tastes blood, hands grabbing Izumi’s waist, holding him down. “You feel that?” he gasps, holding Izumi’s eyes. “You feel—you know what I just, what we just did? There, there’s a prince inside you, maybe.” _If I’m blessed._

 

Izumi’s toes curl with a soft, drawn out whimper. “You can have a prince, but we have to try again later for a princess,” he breathes, his eyes fluttering as he sinks back into the mattress. He’s so suddenly, so abruptly sated that it feels like his limbs are jelly. “Girls…are objectively better. Nhh, stay in me, I’m pretty sure that helps…”

 

“I heard,” Leo murmurs, feeling floppy, exhausted as if he’d run a hundred kilometers, and like he never wants to part from Izumi’s embrace, “that it helps if you lie with your legs up in the air. But know what sounds good? Trying a thousand times. I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.” Izumi breathes out a long sigh, and grabs one of Leo’s hands, dragging it back up to the laces of the thing Shu had so expertly strapped him into. “If you really love me, free me.”

 

Now that he’s not blind with lust, Leo makes quick work of the laces, tugging open that lovely garment. “This thing is _so_ pretty. Heh. Magic isn’t everything, you’re a _way_ better woman than Rei is.”

 

Once released, Izumi inhales sharply, arching his back to stretch out with a low, satisfied noise. “Tell me again that I’m better than him,” he demands, flopping back down again. “That’s so much better, damn. Tits are a _lot_ of work.”

 

“Marry me.” Leo strokes a hand up Izumi’s belly. “Tonight, let me bring in a priest. This isn’t about you having tits, I was going to do it the next time I saw you no matter what.”

 

Izumi chews at his lower lip and reaches up, tugging on a strand of Leo’s hair. “I want to,” he finally says. “So, so badly. But if I do, I’m forfeiting everything in the North, and my mother will _not_ stand for me putting a Regent up there, for whatever reason. Ask me again after I sort all of that out…please?”

 

Leo cocks his head, then shakes it, firmly. “No. You’re marrying me. We’ll figure out the North and your mother, together. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, right?”

 

“You— _Leo_ ,” Izumi huffs, glowering up at him. “My men need me to be in the North. A _lot_. I didn’t understand how much until recently. Will you be satisfied with your, um, consort, or whatever you want me to be called, being away for long periods of time? I’m not saying no to what you’re suggesting, don’t get defensive, I just want you to know that’s what I’m dealing with now.”

 

“Yes.” Leo presses a kiss to Izumi’s cheek. “I’ll be fine with anything, satisfied with anything. Just…let me…” He struggles for words, and scrubs at his face with his hands. “Let me have what I need to protect you. Let me tell the entire world that I don’t think you’re my inferior, I don’t think you’re convenient, I don’t think you’re anything less than my partner, my equal, my most beloved. Make your daughter Lady of the North, come marry me, if you won’t I swear to the gods I’ll abdicate my crown when the sun rises.” That speech had kind of come out of nowhere, but it’s no use trying to take it back now, so he just stares at Izumi, hair wild, eyes defiant, passionate.

 

Izumi looks up at him, and bursts into tears.

 

“You’re the worst—the absolute worst, I didn’t want to get married looking like a _mess_ , let alone with tits!” Izumi smacks his shoulder, sniffling, then shoves at his chest. “You’re such a jerk. I don’t have _time_ for a big stupid ceremony like we talked about, I have to _leave_ tomorrow!”

 

“We’ll do the ceremony later,” Leo insists, ignoring the hits landing on his chest and shoulders, peppering Izumi’s stupid, beautiful face with kisses. “When your mother and everyone can come. She’s probably just waiting for me to do this, anyway, she’s always wanted me to take charge more. Get yourself tidied up, I’m going to summon a priest.” He bounces off the bed, only barely remembers to snatch a robe from where it’s hanging over one chair’s back, and dashes out of the room before Izumi can protest again.

 

“You’re the _worst!_ ” Izumi snaps one last time before throwing himself back down onto the bed with a screech muffled into one of Leo’s stupidly over-soft pillows.

 

Overstimulated, overwhelmed, and definitely too flustered to really process anything, Izumi eventually slithers out of bed, legs wobbling as he gets dressed. Lacing himself back up into the fancy thing Shu wrapped him up into is too much work, so instead, rummaging through Leo’s familiar wardrobe helps, and Izumi huddles up into one of his cloaks instead before dropping back down onto the end of his bed, trying to finger-comb his hair into a semblance of order. If he’s lucky, the priest won’t notice that he’s currently…different. He doesn’t want to start those rumors just yet.

 

Leo re-enters a few minutes later with a sleepy priest in tow, blinking in the low light. “This is the man, Majesty?” he asks, a little sleepily, but with a few holy books in a sack, and his robes are clean enough.

 

“Sure, whatever. Just make sure you say the part about how all of our children are legitimized who will be born from this day forward. Don’t give me that look, I’m your king.” Leo gives Izumi a grin, and holds out his hand. “C’mere, it’ll be fine. Trust me.”

 

“You’re _sure_ this is going to be official?” Izumi skeptically says, hesitantly extending his hand to lay it in Leo’s, drawing his cloak tightly about himself. “If I tell my men all about this and it turns out I’m not really married to you through some legal loophole, I’m going to be pissed.”

 

“If I find out there’s a loophole, I’ll change the law,” Leo assures him.

 

The priest clears his throat. “The, ah, marriage sacrament is not full of…loopholes, Lord Izumi,” he says, a little sternly. “Unless the, ah, unless one party decides to sue the other for being unable to conceive, or for adultery, such a sacrament is binding unto death. Do you both wish to proceed?”

 

“Absolutely,” Leo says, and squeezes Izumi’s hand.

 

“Yes.” Izumi feels his heart flutter, and he bites back the continuous urge to fret, and think of problems with this no matter how badly he wants it, like he has for the past few years, over and over and over and over. Still, he looks over to Leo, meeting his eyes nervously. _This is fine, right? Please tell me you’re going to make this really, actually work._

 

Leo squeezes Izumi’s hand again, more firmly this time, leaning close to give his mouth a sweet kiss. _Trust me,_ he mouths.

 

And then the priest stops talking and starts reciting. Candlelight flickers. Magelight doesn’t. The words speak more of fealty than love, but Leo’s hand is burning warm in Izumi’s, his eyes just as hot. When it’s time for him to speak the words, he does, without hesitation.

 

Just like that, it’s done, and Izumi feels his knees go weak, a mix of giddiness and disbelief in his stomach. The priest, sleepy still, and decidedly unimpressed for a man that just married off his _king_ , takes his leave with a bow, stifling a yawn on the way out.

 

That’s it—no fanfare, nothing complicated, nothing more than a binding kiss. “Does this count as eloping?” he dazedly asks, rocking backwards to sit on the end of Leo’s bed again, face a little flushed from overstimulation. “Even though it’s in your own damned room?”

 

Leo follows Izumi down to the bed, kissing him over and over, laughing, rolling with him until Izumi is on top, elated, delighted. “We’re married!” he yells, ignoring Izumi’s protests. “You want to elope? Where? Tell me where, we’ll go, I’ll do anything you want, I’m your _husband_! Wahahaha!”

 

In spite of all of his nerves, his continued anxiety, it’s impossible not to be swept up into Leo’s enthusiasm, and Izumi finally surrenders, throwing his weight down onto Leo and smothering him with his tits. They’re good for something, certainly. “It’s about _time_ ,” he bemoans, slumping down, chin propped into his hands. “I’m still in shock. How are you even going to _tell_ anyone about this? Is that priest in his right mind to testify? Gods, fuck it. We’re _married._ I’m your…husband? Wife?”

 

“Whatever you want. I don’t care, it’s all you. No one gets to call the law into question as far as gender, you know? Doesn’t matter.” Leo looks down, and asks softly, “Can you really…give me a child? It’s not just a dream?”

 

Izumi rolls to the side, sprawling out flat onto his back again. “I’m probably not sterile,” he settles upon, drumming his fingers over his flat stomach. “Ritsu and I did some research about it, and I asked Shu, too…it could be possible. I’m experimenting, at any rate.” He cracks a faint smile. “Can’t hurt to give it a shot. Why do you think I showed up here? I mean, to see you, but this, too.”

 

Leo gives him a sweet smile, and cuddles up to Izumi, looping his arms around Izumi’s waist. “Let’s do it again. We can make a twin. It’ll be great.”

 

“That’s not how it works,” Izumi says with a roll of his eyes, even as he snuggles up against Leo. “That’s not how it _ever_ works. But yeah, we definitely need to do it another ten times.”

 

Leo squints out the window at the darkness. “We have a few more hours before daylight. You have any other plans?”

 

“I came here specifically to be in your bed for as long as possible.”

 

“Then spread your legs, my queen. We’re just getting started.”

 

~

 

Izumi wakes to the sunlight pouring in from Leo’s wide open windows in a very warm, _very_ squishy bed, and immediately decides to give up and never leave.

 

Who cares if the world explodes? Doesn’t matter, he resolves, snuggling more firmly down into soft, _soft_ sheets that are not just a bunch of furs piled up on top of one another, thank you very much. There’s a fire already burning in Leo’s fireplace, and Izumi melts a little more. Yes, he’s done. This is where he will remain, in his _husband’s_ bed.

 

Except the world doesn’t really work like that, especially the longer he lies there, thinking and contemplating everything in the North, in the West, in High Harbor, in the Shadowlands…

 

Izumi rolls over, staring half-lidded across the room through the mussed fall of his hair into his eyes. King Leo, hunched over his desk in the early morning—that’s a new one. Not an unattractive one, but certainly a new one. “You’ve turned yourself into a workaholic while I was away,” he murmurs, flopping a pale hand over the side of the bed. “Like you’re a grown-up, real king and everything.”

 

Leo’s mouth creases in a shadow of a smile as he looks back over his shoulders. “You changed, too. I’m just…” He flaps his hands, a bit helpless. “Just trying to make the world I want us to grow old together in.”

 

“ _I_ just grew boobs.” Izumi watches him for a moment longer before crooking a finger. “Come back to bed. I want to pet you and maybe chew on your dangly earrings.”

 

“Just a minute. I have a deadline on a few of these.” Leo scrawls his name down at the bottom of a few different papers, the pen flicking through laws, decrees, and indictments, checking for errors. “There.” Then he bounces back onto the bed, still his carefree self, even if there are tiny lines around his eyes from the hard squinting, though they disappear the second he touches Izumi. “Your king isn’t _that_ different. He desperately wants to be chewed on.”

 

Izumi rolls, wrapping all four limbs around him as he snuggles close, and immediately spares a nibble to one earlobe harboring a dangly earring in question. “I was worried,” he quietly admits, “that you’d be so…so different when I came back. You are, a little, but…in a good way.”

 

Leo lets out a pleased little squeak. “Trying to be less of a coward,” he admits. “You shouldn’t always have to clean up after me. Whatever you hear, when you’re away…I’ll sort it out. You can count on it. Nnh, why are you chewing on those, are you a magpie?”

 

“No, they just remind me of when I fucked you in a tent in the Sandlands,” Izumi says with an innocent bat of his eyelashes before burying his face into Leo’s neck and inhaling deeply. “I’ll admit, I expected to come back and for you to smell like Rei, but no, you just smell like Leo.”

 

“Meep! That was only—I don’t know what he told you,” Leo huffs, “but we sure haven’t exactly been living together, it was just once. And that’s the _only_ time I’ve played around since you went to the Academy. Er…except one time with Arashi. Don’t be mad.”

 

“No, that’s good. I like hearing about that. And I don’t really care about you sleeping with Rei, except for a couple of things—one, I’m still aggravated that he won’t fuck me, on principle. Two, he marks everything he really likes. I was worried he’d make you all…” Izumi trails off, wrinkling his nose. “Anyway. You don’t smell like him at all, which is good…though there’s a lot here that does.”

 

“Uh, it might have been canceled out,” Leo says, suddenly remembering. “That one was a threesome, with his paladin. Kinda fun. Not great. Let me try it with a woman, though.”

 

“No, I mean…there’s a lot of his magic in the air here. Protection stuff I bet. That’s good, I don’t want you here unguarded,” Izumi exhales, stroking a hand down Leo’s back. “There’s…supposedly an archdemon or something lurking around on your council, do you know about that?”

 

“It’s basically all anyone ever talks about,” Leo says crossly. “The Warden breathed some weird stuff on me, apparently it protects me from any of his, uh…I dunno what all his weird magic stuff is called, but apparently he can’t do anything to me without the Warden knowing about it. Don’t talk about it anymore, it’s _boring_ , I’m way less interested in that than how to prevent clerical gouging of the poor right now.”

 

“Leo. They’re trying to bring the previous Emperor back.”

 

That makes some weird nerve in Leo twitch, like he’s a guitar whose strings have just been atonally plucked. “They can’t. He’s dead. I felt him die. And I do _not_ want to talk about him in this bed.”

 

“I didn’t say that they can, but I said that they’re trying,” Izumi lowly says. “And with all the other shit that’s been going on—in the North, in the West, even in High Harbor—you know it’s not a coincidence. The moment I heard about that thing being _here_ , in the _Capital_ , I wanted to come back to your side. I would’ve, if I could have.”

 

Leo grabs Izumi’s face in his hands, squishing his cheeks together. “Izumi. I. Am. Fine. I’m absolutely stressed and falling apart, but it doesn’t have anything to do with magic, it has to do with me rewriting the entire country’s constitution by myself and attempting to overhaul every branch of the government at once.”

 

Izumi scowls and takes a snap at one of his hands, grazing Leo’s thumb with his teeth. “If you’re stressed out about that, I’m stressed out about that _plus_ everything strange and magical that might want to _kill you._ That’s my job, especially when they’ve—damn it. I bet you haven’t even heard about the North, have you.” He’d deliberately not sent messages back to the Capital about it, after all, in an attempt to ward off rumors and perhaps more demons creeping in for a slice of their pie.

 

Leo blinks. “About—about the village? With the magical coma people? How did the research go?”

 

“No, there wasn’t even time for that. When I went up there to investigate that…the archdemons and their pet monster—“ Izumi’s mouth twists, and he leans back, gaze sliding away. “The entirety of Sena was decimated. That’s most of the North, outside of tiny, outlying villages. At most, there are two hundred men left. That’s why I meant it, more than ever, that my men needed me.”

 

Leo bolts up, eyes wide and concerned. “Why didn’t I know about this? I can send help. Wait—your mother? Kinsley, Elia? They’re all right, aren’t they? You would have said something if they weren’t, right?”

 

“Drakes showed up before I even got there, stole away every woman and child and stashed them underneath the glaciers. I know, it sounds insane, but it happened. I saw them.” Izumi shrugs, pushing his hair back out of his face. “There’s nothing your soldiers can do. I’ve already sent away my men to the West, to get them out of the North. More soldiers would just mean more casualties, so I didn’t have a choice. You didn’t know because I didn’t want that to happen, and I didn’t want other creatures to come crawling in when we were already hurting.”

 

Leo lets out a long, slow breath, then curls up again next to Izumi, resting his forehead against Izumi’s. “That’s so much for you to have to deal with. I didn’t even know. I’m sorry. Anything I can do?”

 

“Not brush me off when I’m worried about an archdemon sitting on your council?” Izumi’s expression turns wry. “I didn’t want you to know, so you don’t have to apologize. But I’m telling you now, so that you _realize_ why I’m so concerned. If a wizard tells you to leave, please, _please_ listen.”

 

“But I have the whole Academy,” Leo protests. “They _all_ know where he is. Why can’t they just do something about him? I’m busy, you know? It’s not easy to run a country! I’m listening, I just don’t know what me being worried is going to do about it, the people who understand it are already working on it.”

 

“Are they? Or are they just watching and waiting to see what happens? Sorry—sorry, I know this isn’t productive, it just scares the hell out of me.” The admission comes with his voice dropping, and Izumi huffs loudly, rolling over onto his back. “I’m better at protecting you. Let me at the thing on your council. I’ll stab it in the face.”

 

“I don’t want to let you at the thing on my council, really.” Leo beams. “I want you _on_ my council. You’ve been promoted in your absence, sorry. You’re no longer my Captain of the Guard.”

 

“Go on, now that we’re sharing things we’ve artfully kept from one another. What’s my official title now, aside from…queen…? No, I can’t handle that, I have to just be your consort or something. Fair warning, they address me as a king up in the North.”

 

“Hot. Treasonous, but hot,” Leo says cheerfully. “You’re my Lord Husband. That’s the official title that I settled on. It grants you power equal to a Duke, so you inherit only if I have no male heirs. After my brother would, if I had a brother, but before my cousin. If I had a cousin. It also grants you a place on my council.”

 

“Mm, good. I like that.” This is much more enjoyable than talking about the world ending with evil creatures and terrifying magic. “You know, there _used_ to be two kings. I like to think we’re just returning to a far superior system. The North has been removed from Capital politics for so long, it can’t stay that way and actually thrive.”

 

“The North _and_ the West,” Leo corrects. “If you want the crown, I expect to see some improvements in both dominances. You know they don’t even have mandatory school in the West?”

 

“I’m _very_ aware. Arashi is still my best friend, somehow.” Izumi rolls his eyes. “I already had this discussion with him. Once we’re done with the immediate, magical threats up there, we already have plans to work on joint projects between the North and the West. It’s a waste if we don’t. Are you still letting him be the Captain of the Kingsguard? If he wants to be? If not, I’ll do that, too. Please let me use my sword, I’m begging you.”

 

“Oh, did I not say?” Leo grins. “I told you, it’s a promotion. You’re the official commander of my armies. Use your sword whenever you want.”

 

“Fuck. I’m _so_ horny right now.”

 

Leo grins. “Rei taught me how to please a woman with my mouth. But, you have to leave, right? You said, first thing in the morning…”

 

“Mouths are nice, your prick is better,” Izumi unabashedly says, not at all shy about admitting that. Some things are the same whether he’s in a male or female body, apparently. “I have to leave, but…your bed is comfortable and I’m thinking about efficiently running things here in the Capital with an iron fist.”

 

“Isn’t it great?” Leo beams, and stretches out comfortably, nuzzling into Izumi’s hair. “We’ll be a hell of a power couple, right? Just think about it…we can actually change things for our citizens. Like, _really_ make a difference! Not just playing at it or pretending to line our pockets, like most people do when they say that kind of shit. We can actually make things _better_ , you and me.”

 

“And you kicked everyone shitty out,” Izumi dreamily says, lifting a hand to stroke Leo’s hair. “So we won’t have to argue with a million horrific old fools to do it. Arashi is going to be so jealous, I can’t wait to tell him.”

 

“The best part is, they can’t _really_ complain,” Leo says smugly. “Because all I did is require that they take the oath in front of the truth teller. Anyone who’s willing to say under truth spell that they don’t serve anyone over their citizens and country is willing to ask for their job back. Weird how no one has, right? Nnh, pettings good.”

 

“You’re brilliant. Gods, that should’ve happened years ago, huh? If we’d both had more balls and didn’t care about our own images so much back then…” Izumi sighs, curling his fingers against Leo’s scalp to gently drag his nails against it. “That being said…it might be smart to not say anything about our marriage until we know whether or not I’m knocked up.”

 

“…Yeah,” Leo says quietly, and butts his head against Izumi’s hand. “I mean, it’s on the rolls, but unless someone is deliberately looking for it, they won’t be able to find out. Hopefully it worked the first time. What’s your cycle like?”

 

Izumi winces, shrugging a little. “It’s hard to say, because I’m not sure if my body is on Shadowlands time right now, or human world time,” he admits. “I’m just going to give it a month and see what happens, I think.”

 

“I wish I could spend a month making love to you,” Leo says wistfully. “That would do it, huh? You wouldn’t mind, right? Staying like this for a while?”

 

“I want nothing more than to stay in this bed and not get up for a month, I want you to know that. But then I’d get fat, and that’s terrible.”

 

“But you have to! The baby grows in your belly, it _has_ to get bigger, you know that, right?”

 

“That’s different than just getting fat to get _fat_. Ugh. I hope you know how much I love you. If I get pregnant, I’m going to have to eat like a normal person again, aren’t I.”

 

“Please don’t starve our baby because pregnancy makes you fat!!!”

 

“I just said I wouldn’t! But if I stay fat afterwards, I’m going to be so mad.”

 

“I’ll kiss your rolls.”

 

“I will fling you directly underneath the hooves of a real Northern warhorse.”

 

“Is this kinky? Or is this domestic abuse?”

 

“It’s justified is what it is.” Izumi pauses suddenly, then says, very slowly, “Do you think the people will raise hell if the baby doesn’t have red hair? Do you think my blood is enough to cancel that out?”

 

Leo frowns. “Shit. I didn’t think of that. The king has always had red hair, it’s considered the divine mark of our right to rule. Hmm.”

 

“Maybe that blood is stronger than mine,” Izumi frets. “It better be. To be fair, I’ve never had children with anyone remotely related to the royal family.”

 

“I guess?” Leo bites his lip. “I mean, if it’s a son, we always _do_ have our heirs verified by magic for legitimacy and paternity. I’m just worried he’d have a long road, and there might be resistance…heh, talk about borrowed trouble! We don’t even have you gravid yet!”

 

“If you call it gravid again, I’m going to show you my actual snake teeth.”

 

“What should I call it? Bun in the oven? In a family way? With child? In the pudding club? Stung by a serpent? _Expectant_?”

 

“I hope,” Izumi flatly says, pinning Leo down with a hand on his chest as he leans over him, baring the fangs in question, “that our bratty child has these, and bites people instead of handling his problems. Just like you used to, but so _much_ worse.”

 

Leo squeals, writhing just enough that Izumi can easily overpower him, laughing as he’s pinned down. “I hope he does! Wahahaha, it’s you he’s going to be nursing from!”

 

“Mine didn’t come in until I was _much_ older, so I’m safe,” Izumi smugly says, snapping at Leo’s neck teasingly. “Hilarious that you think I’m going to command your armies with a child on my tit, though. Find me a wet nurse. Never mind, I’ll let Tsukasa do that for me.”

 

“Eh? He doesn’t have tits. Last time I checked…”

 

“Do you really not know his sexual preferences after all this time? Has he gotten so much better about hiding them?”

 

“Oh! Is this about that lady he’s dishonoring my sister with, in High Harbor? I should probably have him jailed or something, I’m considering it!”

 

“Last I heard, he had multiple mistresses, all very well paid to keep their mouths shut and to also, continue lactating.”

 

“Yeah, but I can’t just—wait, _what_ was that last part?”

 

“To continue lactating. Thus the wet nurse joke. He knows where to find the ‘good ones.’”

 

“Um…I don’t really know what to say to that,” Leo admits, blinking owlishly. “How did you let me marry my sister to him?”

 

“He’s a very good man and the only match better was to the Himemiya family girl, but they’re still on probation, more or less,” Izumi airily says, propping his head into one hand. “I can’t believe you didn’t know about this.”

 

Leo groans, flopping back onto the bed. “No wonder he talks so weird about getting her pregnant, I’m definitely going to end his rotten little milk-guzzling life, she doesn’t even want his gross penis!”

 

“She likes women, right? Better not let her see me right now,” Izumi mildly says, examining his nails. “He’s a pervert, but he’s still good, in his own way. He immediately sent me a high-powered wizard when I contacted the Capital and you were away, so that was nice.”

 

Leo huffs. “Fine. He can live one more day. But he’s married to my sister, so he’s always going to be on thin ice.”

 

“That’s fair. Want me to beat him up before I go?”

 

“…A little. Yeah.”

 

“He’ll probably get turned on, though. Or maybe I’m not his type now that I’m in a woman’s body? A mystery.” Instead of rising to go and hunt down Tsukasa, Izumi just burrows further own into Leo’s bed. “Fuck it, I’m nesting.”

 

“Good. Stay. It sounds like everything is pretty much taken care of up North, right?” Leo nuzzles into Izumi’s hair. “Stay with me. Just a little longer, I miss you so much. I miss smelling your hair.”

 

“I have to go monster hunting,” Izumi moodily says, but he makes no attempt to move all the same, save to get his arms around Leo again. “And I want Ritsu to look at my magic after all this, because that’s part of the experiment. But mostly, I want to stay in bed with you. Does my hair smell the same when I’m like this?”

 

“Yeah.” Leo takes a long sniff to be sure, and winds his arms around Izumi’s waist, tugging him close. “You’re still my Izumi. No matter how much either of us change.”

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

Dreaming of specific people never bodes well.

 

It’s the middle of nowhere in the West. He should at least be granted a mercifully peaceful, quiet sleep because of this—but no. His dreams are haunted by pale, almost white-blonde hair, a cruel smile and plain-stated threats.

 

The worst thing is that the dreams are…obscured somehow, no matter how Natsume struggles to cling to any part of them that might have further meaning, or some _timeline._ It’s rare that his visions are so vague, and when he wakes, bolting upright, drenched in sweat and trembling, it can only mean some very certain things.

 

_He’s the one obscuring it. He’s the one toying with me._

 

“Nope, nope, _nope_ ,” Natsume mutters frantically, clawing his way out of his bedroll and snatching up his bag of incantation stones and powders, intent on warding their tent even further. “Out of my head, out of my head, fuck you.”

 

Wataru pokes his head into the tent, blinking eyes that are slightly bleary from night watch. It’s only in the last couple of years that he’s begun to let Natsume see him in his less composed state. Yes, they’ve been a couple for nearly a decade, but he does have _standards_ to keep up. Lately, though, keeping up appearances in front of Natsume has felt like a lot of work, hence the reason that he is actually wearing comfortable traveling clothes instead of some sort of fabulous getup, and his hair is sensibly tied up and back instead of loose and _everywhere_. “Bad dreams?” he asks, concerned. “Or were you calling for me?”

 

Natsume’s initial response seems more at home with a startled cat’s hissing than an actual human attempting to form words as he goes about the whole tent, placing stones at every single stake, kicking aside ones that seem to be slightly damaged. _Proof, proof that he’s been here, somehow!_ “It’s nothing,” he mutters, angrily shoving his hair back behind his ears as he prowls around. “Just—stupid—meaningless— _pointless_ dreams.”

 

“There are animals about,” Wataru says mildly, trying not to sound concerned. Natsume, he knows from experience, does not like it when other people sound concerned about him, though he doesn’t mind them _being_ concerned. He thinks. “Snogs and weregoblins and all sorts of delightful beasties. Any of them could have knocked those over, when we were, ah, busy earlier. Or when we were bathing.”

 

“I know the difference,” Natsume growls, and his eyes narrow, zeroing in on the stone nearest to the foot of his own bedroll.

 

A crack neatly runs down the length of it, and Natsume feels a chill run similarly down the length of his spine.

 

“I’m going to seal this whole area down again.” A waste of magic? Maybe. Worth it, for his own peace of mind? Definitely. “Something…something feels wrong.”

 

“Show me.” Wataru holds out his hand, and quirks the fingers impatiently. “Come now, kitten, you pay be precogniscient, but I _have_ been about this sort of thing just a bit longer, consult with me.”

 

Natsume hesitates, visibly this time. His mouth turns down, and he folds his arms unhappily for a moment before striding to the cracked rock in question and nudging it over with his foot, as if that’s somehow more sterile than touching it with his hand. “Beasts don’t slither into sealed areas like _that_.”

 

Wataru shakes his head slowly, then carefully quests out with his sense, poking that rock with his magic.

 

“It left no trace,” he says, picking it up, tossing it in the air. “None whatsoever. Just a perfectly normal rock.” He pauses for a moment, mostly for dramatic effect. “There’s no trace of your spell, either.”

 

“Which isn’t normal,” Natsume points out irritably. “Magic doesn’t disappear unless something wills it. I didn’t, so something else did. Combined with dreams—no, no, I’m spelling the area again. I can’t sleep here if I don’t.”

 

“I’ll add a layer as well,” Wataru volunteers, unusually for him. It’s boring, as he’s said before, to use magic for something so incredibly tedious, when it would be _amazing_ to be invaded and gloriously fight off the invaders. “What realm is the threat coming from? That makes it easier for me to target my preparation.”

 

“I don’t want you doing it.” Natsume had _meant_ to say _I don’t need you to do that_ , but sometimes, what he means comes out first. It’s why he’s scolded for being rude more often than not, but in this case, it’s awkward, and a bit scary, though he doesn’t want to admit the latter. He shrugs, turning away. “I’ll handle it, I just didn’t make it strong enough last time, _obviously_.”

 

Wataru closes his mouth, then turns away, letting the tent flap close without another word said, sitting himself back on the post he’d taken for watching through the night while Natsume sleeps.

 

Natsume stands for a moment longer, wavering, before huffing out a breath and going about his task. Well, he’d gotten what he’d asked for, hadn’t he? _So why do I feel so damnably uneasy?_

 

Those gross, _fake_ blue eyes haunt him when he tries to shut his eyes. _I hate this I hate this I hate this._ Natsume shivers, tossing, turning, twisting himself up into a knot before he sits up again, miserable and restless before he gets up, stalks to the front of the tent, and sticks his head out of it. “Come back inside,” he demands, lower lip trembling. “I can’t sleep.”

 

“Someone has to watch the night,” Wataru says, without turning around. The large rock he sits on is rather _giving_ under his weight, cradling him like an understuffed armchair, and light from the starts glints off of his swept-back hair. “Especially if we’re at risk.”

 

“Fine. I’m coming out here.”

 

Natsume disappears long enough to grab his cloak, unwilling to be cold when he’s outside, in the West, in winter, at _night,_ and shuffles his way back outside, not bothering to sit. “It wasn’t a dream. It was a vision—but it was obscured, so I can’t…translate it to words.”

 

“Something about me, betraying you?”Wataru’s voice is quiet, but no less hurt for that.

 

“…I don’t know.”

 

Natsume drops down onto the ground, huddled into his cloak. “But I saw the previous Emperor. And I think it was him, that broke my seal. I don’t know how, but…somehow.”

 

The chill that trickles down Wataru’s spine has little to do with the night air. He’s quiet, but rests a hand on Natsume’s head, stroking his hair gently, even as his mind races.

 

 _Eichi, returned?_ He could, Wataru supposes. Things as powerful as what he is, even the shadow of his former self he’d been at the end, don’t simply _die_. “Things like he is,” he says softly, trying to make sense of his own words even as he says them, “are…heavy, for this world to accommodate. It may not be him, himself. But when something so powerful is in this realm—they don’t belong here, you know, no more than I do—when they’re here for quite a while, they warp the world around them, leaving a sort of…impression, of themselves, behind in the fabric of reality. An imprint, an echo. Most likely, that’s what this is.”

 

“I don’t like it.” Natsume draws his knees up to his chest. “There has to be a better way of…of keeping it out. It’s…it’s just—I didn’t want you to help seal this place because I was afraid it would draw him here, not because I thought you were going to betray me. Us.”

 

“Well, that’s a relief,” Wataru says cheerfully, relaxing back into his rock with his hands folded behind his head. “I have no intention of betraying anyone, but least of all _us_ , little one. Even if it were the man himself who returned. Just in case you wanted to hear it from these traitor’s lips.”

 

“Even if…he showed up and promised you everything from before?” _Shut up, shut up._ If he was smart, he’d just take what Wataru had said at face value, but no. He has to _be_ like this.

 

Wataru laughs, and the sound has more of knives than it does of bells. “Did I ever tell you that I’m an intensely jealous person?” he asks, sounding highly amused about something. “I must have done, or you must have _known_ , with all the warnings and traps I put on your virtue while I’m away. Yes?”

 

Natsume’s face turns pink, but he shrugs, shifting underneath his cloak. “I know about that. It’s not subtle, Lord Rei complains about it.”

 

“Good, it was expressly done to frustrate and annoy him,” Wataru assures Natsume. “Now imagine, that after everything we’d been through together—our life together, five times over!—you went and formed a resonant bond with someone else, and quite forgot about your lovely songbird here, leaving him to languish as a prisoner with torn-off wings. How quickly,” he asks, teeth glinting in the starlight, “do you think I’d forget something like that?”

 

“…Probably not ever,” Natsume hazards, no matter his hesitation. “But—bonds aren’t controllable things. I thought you sort of forgave him, because of that. If I’m wrong, good.”

 

“Oh…in my way, in my way,” Wataru says airily, fluttering a hand. “Forgive, certainly, I don’t hold it _against_ him. But, ah, you see, it doesn’t entertain me, to be shunted upstage into the shadows, with no one to watch me perform. I’m afraid I’ll the the star or no one, and…” His breath falters for the first time, and he commits a sin, and clears his throat. “You know that if you tire of looking at me, kitten, you’ll never see me again. Don’t you?”

 

“I’m gonna wrap your ponytail around my arm and use it as a leash so you can’t ever leave,” Natsume huffily says, turning his face up finally to look at Wataru, scowling. “I won’t get _tired_ of looking at you, idiot. But I’ll get mad at you and never want to see you again if you’re _ever_ an apologist for _that guy.”_

 

“Excellent. It’s good to know that we both have our limits, don’t you think?” Wataru stares up into the night sky, unblinking, their tiny lights reflected in the darkness of his eyes. “It’s probably just his shade, kitten. What reason would that man ever have for wanting to come back here?”

 

“Collecting what he left behind.” Natsume’s voice is quiet, a little unnerved. “What other reason could he have? Things like him—they’ve been known to drag people down to the depths of the Shadowlands with them before.”

 

“Well, then worry not about me. I’ve been. No interest in returning, no matter the company. I daresay I like life outside of my birdcage, these days. It’s…a welcome change.” When was the last time he’d served no one, been pressed into no eldritch horror’s service? After a while, it had simply felt like life.

 

“He might try to force you. I’ll kill him again if he does.”

 

“My gallant hero! Please do, I’ll watch.”

 

“Be serious, I’m worried about this.” Natsume frowns up at him, brow knitted. “Even if it is his shade, it’s not normal for a shade to be able to break a Nightcloak’s spells.”

 

“It isn’t,” Wataru admits. “I’m hoping it’s just that. It could be. The alternative is…distressing, a bit, because if he’s coming back, he’s less predictable than I thought. In a way, I like that quite a bit! But I do hate seeing you worried.”

 

Natsume calmly stands up, reaches out, grabs Wataru’s face and turns it, and then abruptly slaps him, right across the cheek. “There’s nothing to like about it. If anything, it’s more predictable, because he’s the worst and of course he’s coming back to torment everyone again.”

 

Wataru sighs, and attempts to put on quite a concerned frown. “Is this better?”

 

“No.” Natsume puts his hands on his hips, leering over him. “You make a piss-poor human. Try harder.”

 

Wataru tries harder, all the way into “distressed,” and throws in a few tears for good measure. “I could wail and beat my breast and lie facedown in the dirt like the ancients did,” he offers helpfully.

 

“No, now you’re just pathetic. Why do I only fuck men that don’t react properly to being slapped?” Natsume grouses, yanking his cloak back around himself firmly. “Are all men like this, actually?”

 

“Men aren’t supposed to react poorly to being slapped, I think?” Wataru guesses, reaching up to rub the area as if Natsume had given him a kiss. “I believe that the general idea is that you pretend it hurts around ladies, so they don’t devise much more effective ways of damaging you.”

 

“….” A huffy breath follows that, and Natsume, being Natsume, gets tired of not being touched, and promptly worms his way into Wataru’s lap before he can utter another word. “If I stay like this long enough, maybe I’ll remember what I Saw,” he mutters after a moment. “I _hate it_ when everything’s obscured, hate it.”

 

“Does it have some sort of a pattern?” Wataru asks, curious. He tightens his arms around Natsume, resting his chin on the younger man’s hair. “Is it easier to remember the good things, or does not being able to see it mean someone is interfering, or…is it just random?”

 

“In this case…I think it was definitely someone…interfering.”

 

Natsume grimaces at that admittance, but he huddles up into Wataru’s chest all the same. “Sometimes, when I can’t remember whole visions, it’s just because they weren’t _that_ important,” he admits. “And I don’t focus on it. Other times, like this, it’s purposefully sort of…blurred. The bastard just let me keep seeing his face, not much else.”

 

“Pretty simple message, then,” Wataru says, trying not to feel anything at all at the idea of Eichi returning. “‘I’m coming back.’ What else would he have to say? Is it…common, for someone to know they’re in one of your visions?”

 

“No. Very, very rare, and obnoxious,” Natsume moodily says. “If it’s a proper vision, I should be able to see what hell he’s raising, if any, and with who. You’re very warm, thank you.”

 

“I do aim to please with any and all bodily functions, my dove. You say rare—but this isn’t the first time?”

 

“No,” comes the unhappy response. “The only other time was with him, too.”

 

Wataru is silent for a moment, digesting that. “Well. Is there anything about our mission right now that will change, whether you see him or not?”

 

“I don’t know.” Natsume hesitates, thinking. “I wonder if he’s stronger up here because we’re so close to the gate.”

 

“We’re close to the Shadowlands, too,” Wataru points out. “Their own path to the Everdark is far closer to what we call the West than the North. Ah, my own childhood volcano wasn’t more than a day’s hard flight from here, we should go see it when we’re done.”

 

“With all due respect, no thank you. Maybe he’s working through those gross Inglings to get at me, like what happened in that Northern village. I do not like that one bit, if that’s the case.”

 

“Perhaps he’s doing a few things at once,” Wataru suggests. “He could be trying to warn us away from closing the gate—ah, but he could also be trying to goad us into doing it. It could be that _all_ those strange occurrences around have been his fault, you know. And if not, I daresay he’d love the credit.”

 

“What would happen,” Natsume darkly says, “if I just summoned his shade and then blew it up? I’ve got bombs.”

 

“Do you have bombs that reach into the Ether from the physical world?” It isn’t a jibe, but an honest, interested question. “I daresay the damage that could do to a shade would be highly consequential. Of course, I have no earthly idea what else such a thing might do, but I’ll be fascinated to watch.”

 

“Now I’m going to invent some. I want to destroy him, once and for all. I want to _fling him_ directly into the _sun_ , and if he comes back after that, I will _eat_ his crispy skin.”

 

“Delightfully graphic! Will it be a catapult, a trebuchet, or a sling? Please allow me to picture the scene in utterly vivid detail.”

 

“Catapult. Very inelegant, but that’s all he deserves. You know,” Natsume suddenly says, accusing, “you call yourself an eldritch abomination, just like he is, but you’re sooo _much_ better that I think you’re the biggest liar in the world whenever you say that.”

 

“I—“

 

That startles Wataru, enough that his speech hiccups. “Oh. You’re ridiculously sweet, you know. Far better than an abomination like me deserves. I’m quite vain enough that I only show you my loveliest face, you know.”

 

“Liar. You’ve gotten really weird and scary before. And I can feel it in your magic, besides, so you’re not fooling me.” 

 

“You’re so cute. I’m going to eat you with my giant fangs, that I keep stashed in a spectral locker.”

 

Natsume stares up at him, deliberately batting wide eyes. “Do it. I want to be swallowed by your gross, drooling, gaping maw.”

 

Wataru lifts Natsume suddenly, carrying him back into the tent and laying him out on the thin bedroll they share, magicking the tent flap shut behind him. “Now, there’s a request I’ve been longing to hear.”

 


	16. Chapter 16

 

The air is cool, and salty, and surprisingly nice-smelling. _Not the Sandlands_.

 

It’s the first thought that crosses Mika’s mind as he breathes in deep, and cracks his eyes open.

 

Well. _Eye._

 

He lifts a hand, gingerly touching the cloth eyepatch covering the odd socket where something had once been. His arm muscles feel like jelly, sort of weird-floppy and it takes far too much effort to use them, so he lets his hand flop back down after another moment, breathing in, staring up at the ceiling.

 

Blurry. Ahh…so blurry. Of course it had to be the good, fancy eye that’s gone, for some reason. This one’s no good. Slowly, grimacing, Mika picks himself up, forcing himself up into a sitting position. Even just that makes him sore. His hair, perhaps even more stupidly long than he remembers it, is braided to keep it from being too unruly while he recovers in bed, undoubtedly, and Mika picks at the end of that braid with long nails that were recently painted, the polish unchipped.

 

He must’ve slept _hard_ , not to remember all of that.

 

His legs wobble as he slings them over the bed, and he drags himself to his feet with some effort. It takes a _lot_ of work to walk across the room, but the nearby source of thrumming, familiar magic drives him, making Mika grit his teeth and do it.

 

At least it’s just in the room next door. The door is ajar, cracked just a little, and he nudges it open, clinging a little to the door in the process. “Master?” Mika tries, his voice hoarse, cracking a little at the edges from disuse. He wrinkles his nose at that. “Sorry for botherin’ you, um…I’m up, though. When’d we get back from th’ Sandlands?”

 

Shu takes a sip of his tea, then sets the cup down very carefully, as a little buzzing at the back of his head tells him he’s about to realize something for which he is in no way prepared. “Mika,” he says, with a little smile. “You’re awake. Oh. Oh dear. I’ve finally gone completely insane, haven’t I?”

 

And then, quite simply, he faints.

 

Mika blinks a few times, then stumbles inside, wobbling a moment longer before giving up with walking, and settles for crawling across the floor to Shu. “Master? Master, wake _up_ ,” he complains, giving Shu a gentle shake once he reaches him. “You gotta, I feel _weird_.”

 

Shu blinks rapidly, unwilling to stay unconscious when something so big is happening—and it isn’t anything _bad_ , not that his mind will process that properly. “M-Mika? How—how can you—did you—are you truly awake?”

 

“Um—I think so?” Mika hazards, sitting back and giving one of his own cheeks a little slap. “Yeah. But I feel all…woogly. An’ floppy. We’re…in High Harbor, yeah? I must’ve been real out of it, I don’t even remember comin’ here at _all._ ”

 

“Out of it,” Shu repeats, sounding dazed. “For…do you…have any idea how long you’ve been, ah, sleeping? Woogly, where on earth did you learn such a word?”

 

“Made it up, seems good.” Mika huffs, frowning over at him. “I dunno how long I’ve been sleepin’. Some? Long enough for my eye t’fall out, I guess,” he grumbles unhappily, reaching up to self-consciously rub at his eyepatch. “Did my magic do that? I don’t remember, I’m sorry…”

 

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Shu recovers enough to grab Mika in a hug more at home on two cheeky stableboys than an aristocratic magician, holding him so tightly he has to stop for fear of inuring him. “I’ve made you better ones, beautiful ones, dozens of them since…Mika…it’s been five years. You left me alone for _five years_.”

 

“W…what?” Mika jerks back, the need to stare up at Shu to figure out if he’s messing with him stronger even than the need to continue being hugged (which is pretty strong, actually). “Nuh uh. I’d know that. There’s no way—I mean, I guess your hair’s awfully long, but there’s still no way I’d sleep that long…”

 

“I know you only have one eye, and it doesn’t work very well, but _try_ to use it to see,” Shu says wearily, and rubs at his temples. “Do I not look like someone who’s been wallowing in misery for five years?”

 

Mika squints, trying to do just that. “You always look stressed,” he admits, reaching up to touch Shu’s face instead, mapping out every shape of that familiar face underneath his fingertips in a way that would be vastly overly-familiar with anyone else. “…You got wrinkles,” he softly says, fingers trembling a little. “Gotta make Izumin fix that.”

 

“No. They…remind me. Not to be careless. Or I could lose something truly special,” Shu whispers, grabbing Mika’s hands and squeezing them tightly. “Oh, for gods’ sake, what am I doing? You should be in bed, I’m quite ridiculous for letting you get up, what were you thinking? Your legs haven’t been used in years, it’s a miracle you got here.”

 

“I fell a little,” Mika admits, hesitating a moment before flopping forward and throwing his arms around Shu’s neck, clinging there. “Don’t wanna go back to bed,” he whispers. “If I was really sleepin’ for five years…that’s scary. Where’s…where’s Arashi?” That makes a lump form in his throat. “And Cupcake…and Rei, an’…why are we in High Harbor?”

 

“Everyone is fine,” Shu assures him, climbing to his feet and lifting Mika easily into his arms. “My lord is dealing with politics, Arashi is the captain of the Kingsguard, and I daresay Cupcake is still on his heels, the way he has been every day since you…fell ill.”

 

“I had a lot of snog dreams,” Mika says, legs swaying limply as he’s lifted, grateful to just let them dangle. “Why’s Arashi doin’ the Kingsguard thing? Where’s Izumin? He was captain.”

 

“An untrained wizard can’t be on the Kingsguard. Izumi bloomed that night.”

 

Mika falls abruptly silent, trying to process that, and failing. “Izumin… _bloomed._ ”

 

“Indeed. I know he’s old, but, well, he’ll likely outlive us all, won’t he? I suppose he has plenty of life left to learn.”

 

“Izumin. _Izumin_. No way, it’s too weird,” Mika complains. “Is he good at it? There ain’t no way he’s good at it, he’s as bad as Arashi about wantin’ t’ jus’ hit everything with a sword.”

 

“You are correct, he’s notably terrible at it. Although, he seems to have figured out _something_ recently. The last time I saw him, he’d…you know, that’s probably enough surprises for today, actually,” Shu decides, setting Mika back into bed and climbing in with him.

 

Mika immediately worms closer—well, as immediately as he can manage, what with being a floppy mess. “Too weird,” he decides. “Don’t like it. Master, you’re skinny.”

 

“Nonsense, I’ve never eaten much, I doubt anything has changed.”

 

“No, you’re real skinny. I can feel it. Rei needs t’scold you.”

 

“Well, he’s busy. You’ll have to do it yourself,” Shu says firmly, nuzzling in with his head against Mika’s, pulling the duvet over both of them. “There, now. Ask me anything you want to know, I…don’t look at me strangely if I act as I think you ought to know, I…I often…did you really hear _nothing_ of me reading and singing and reciting to you over the last five years? Deep down, I believed you could hear me.”

 

As much as he’s tempted to lie about that, the thought just makes him feel guiltier than even _not_ being able to recall a single thing. Mika bites his lip, shaking his head slowly. “I must’ve been…real out of it,” he quietly says, curling his hands against Shu’s back, fisting his fingers into fine fabric. “‘Cause I don’t remember nothin’. Just weird snog dreams. I guess you were in those sometimes…”

 

“What on earth do you mean by ‘snog dreams’?” Shu finally asks, a little exasperated. “What were the snogs doing, in your dreams?”

 

“Not plural, jus’ a snog. I think I _was_ the snog? It was kinda cool, but everyone was mean to it…me. Even Arashi kicked me. Snogs are cute, I don’t get it.”

 

“The world is cruel to the misunderstood,” Shu agrees sympathetically. “Well, very well, so you know nothing. What do you want to know? Ah, forgive me if I squeeze you too tightly, you can bear it, can’t you?”

 

“Yeah, you don’t need t’ stop ever, actually,” Mika contently says, chin hooked over Shu’s shoulder in an attempt to meld them further. “You gotta tell me all the things. Why’re we in High Harbor? Where’s Arashi an’ what’s he doin’? Is Izumin reeeeal shitty as a wizard, or jus’ kinda shitty, like gonna be a Dawncloak and that’s funny? Umm, the king, is he in one piece? Oh, oh, are he and Izumin _married?_ Why…” He trails off, huffing. “Why’d I stay asleep for so _long?_ I didn’t think my magic messed up like that, but…”

 

“How in hells did you know about the marriage?” Shu asks, more startled by that than anything else. “As far as I’m aware, that hasn’t even happened yet, how could you possibly know about that?”

 

“Uhh…before we got interrupted, th’ king really excitedly told me about it? I think? Or did I imagine it, I was thinkin’ about Arashi real hard,” Mika admits. “And th’ rest of that day was a blur…wait, if it’s been five years, why _aren’t_ they married yet?”

 

Shu purses his lips. “Because they haven’t seen each other in five years, you know, with Izumi being in the Academy.”

 

Mika’s brow furrows. “I thought we got _rid_ of the gross bad law that makes us not be allowed to do it.”

 

“That’s not the issue—at least, that’s not most of the issue,” Shu elaborates, stroking Mika’s hair as if making up for lost time, despite how many hours he’d spent doing just that in the last several years. “The issue is that young wizards are still a danger to themselves and others, of course, so he hasn’t been allowed to leave the Academy. You remember.”

 

“Nnnn, I know that, but…” Mika’s mouth turns down, even as he headbutts his head firmly into Shu’s touch, unwilling to be subtle about his need for petting. “Still. Bad. Th’ king finally did it right.” He hesitates, then quietly points out, “Y’didn’t tell me about Arashi. He’s…did he get married, while I was sleepin’?”

 

“He didn’t.” Best to get that out of the way first, while there’s still some good news. “Lie still, brat, I’m touching you, you don’t have to keep demanding it. He’s using being on the Kingsguard as an excuse, since he won’t be able to spend any time in his Dominance with a wife until Izumi’s finished training.”

 

“But I need _more_ petting, I’m makin’ up for lost time,” Mika mumbles, rubbing his head firmly against Shu’s palm—even more so, now that he’s relieved. “Good. I don’t want him t’marry anyone else. He proposed to me an’ stuff. I mean, I dunno if he still wants to now, but…”

 

“Of course he still wants to. If he’s waited at your side for this long, I doubt he’d _ever_ have anyone else,” Shu says, with the utter confidence of someone who knows how long each person has been by Mika’s side, as he’d rarely left in five years.

 

“…Mmrrgh. Maybe.” Mika gingerly lifts a hand to tug at his eyepatch. “Hey, now I’ve got an extra place to put stuff in again, that’s probably good.”

 

“You are absolutely not going to do that,” Shu says firmly, and with a touch of magic, seals the eyepatch to Mika’s face. “It was one thing when you did it with a marble, that’s fun for the children and all, but _candy_? I remember, don’t think I’ve forgotten just because it was a while ago.”

 

“I was mostly thinkin’ about dicks, but candy’s all right, too.”

 

“I’m never letting you pull that patch off, actually.”

 

“Master, some people are into that. Don’t judge ‘em.”

 

“It’s not _clean_. They can do what they like, but not with your socket, let them rip holes into each other.”

 

“Ehh…what else is it good for if not t’put stuff in, then?” Mika grumbles, pouting up at him. “’s not like it hurts. Jus’ feels kinda weird.”

 

“I’ll make you a new one,” Shu promises. “It’ll work just as well as the old one, I’ll make sure. Perhaps better, I’m better at magic now.”

 

“…it don’t have to match this time, either. ’s better if it doesn’t.” Mika hesitates, fiddling with the front of Shu’s shirt. “ _My_ magic feels…weird. Kinda raw? Is that ‘cause it’s been so long since I used it? It’s like…there’s little chunks missin’, makes me nervous.”

 

“The ghosts,” Shu says gently, stroking down Mika’s hair. “I think…they ate some of it. The bit of…what I put in your eye, that was eaten as well. I’m sure once you start using it again, and especially once you spend time with Izumi, you’ll probably grow it right back.”

 

“But…that was _you_.” Mika’s head jerks up, his expression slowly becoming more and more stressed. “If…if they ate what was in my eye—that was _you_ , h…how’s that supposed t’come back?”

 

Shu purses his lips, firmly grabbing Mika’s face and turning it away, so he doesn’t have to see that unsightly patch. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll make you another, and you won’t have to worry. Go back to pretending you didn’t know what was in it.”

 

“I _can’t_.” Mika’s lower lip trembles, and he grabs at Shu’s hand, face stricken. “That was _you_. I…Master, ‘m really sorry, really, really sorry, you don’t have to do that again, okay? Actually, please don’t, please _definitely_ don’t, ‘cause if…if I mess up again and that happens again, I…”

 

Shu squeezes Mika’s hand, all of the frustration, the worry, the sick, twisting _fear_ of the last five years welling up in him until he snarls, “I would have carved out a piece of my soul _every day_ and thrown it into the Shadowlands if it would have brought you back to me, whole and alive and well, so don’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t do!”

 

Mika flinches back as if he’s been struck, trembling as he shrinks away. “But—t-then you’re not whole and alive and well,” he whispers. “So I wouldn’t wanna be, either.”

 

“It’s just—“ Shu flounders, because _It’s just my soul_ doesn’t sound as reassuring as he’d like to be. “It’s fine,” he tries instead. “The Paladin says I could grow it back, someday. I don’t know how, but…well, that’s fine, then, isn’t it?”

 

Tears swiftly well up in Mika’s remaining eye. “No! No, ’s not all right! It hurts, don’t it? I don’t want you t’ _ever_ hurt, you’re so dumb sometimes!”

 

A small part of Shu hadn’t thought Mika would be able to tell, that they weren’t linked together now, with the eye gone, and Mika wouldn’t be able to tell anything about him any longer. Tears sting his own eyes, and he wipes them briskly away, pulling Mika close to kiss the top of his head, staying in that exact position, breathing deeply. “Nothing hurt like losing you,” he whispers. “I can endure anything except that. Don’t you dare ever leave me again.”

 

“Stupid,” Mika sniffs, throwing his arms swiftly about Shu’s neck to burrow his way close again. “You’re _stupid_. Real smart but so stupid. I ain’t leavin’, no way, b-but you can’t jus’ keep throwin’ parts of yourself away, you’re already right _here_ , don’t tear yourself into little pieces jus’ ‘cause you think you gotta.” He’s babbling, probably, but if Shu didn’t get it the first time, he’s going to _now_. “If it’s somethin’ you made, I’m gonna feel that anyway,” he mumbles. “Don’t stick your soul in it. Dumb, that’s dumb, I don’t wanna hurt you again.”

 

Shu lets out a huff, gathering Mika close, idly wondering how to slit open his own body and stuff Mika inside, just for safekeeping. “I’ll find a better way to do it,” he promises. “As long as it works. It isn’t easy to make something like that, you know, you _might_ appreciate the artistry instead of complaining about the cost.”

 

“No,” comes Mika’s muffled response as he actually starts trying to crawl into Shu’s shirt. “If it hurts you at all, too expensive. Bad.”

 

“You’re so difficult,” Shu complains, swallowing one of Mika’s hairs by accident. “Am I not allowed to make my own decisions? There’s a reason no one else has a prosthesis that works just as well as their real parts, by the way. No, better.”

 

“’s not like I wasn’t mostly blind before. I can do that again, ain’t like I’m good for anythin’ anyway. And no, you’re not allowed to make decisions about that kinda thing, ‘cause I said so.”

 

“How dare you? As long as you wish to call me Master, you’ll allow it when I do dramatic things, that’s the rule.”

 

Mika lifts his head, staring up at Shu with one red-rimmed, mostly useless eye. “Not with this stuff. Nope, no way. I’ll cry again.”

 

“Don’t threaten that, that’s terrorism.”

 

Mika’s lower lip wobbles.

 

Shu’s face goes pale. “Stop, stop, fine! I’ll find another way, all right? It’s—it’s not because you look like that, though, it’s unrelated!”

 

Mika nods, though the urge to start crying again doesn’t go away as quickly as he’d like. To solve this, he shoves his face back into Shu’s chest. “Y’can just shove a marble in there for real this time. I don’t mind.”

 

“You’re being the worst,” Shu protests, tears spilling from his eyes, which he doesn’t even try to stop this time. “I’ll figure something out. Once I’m done sealing the Sorrow’s Gate, one impossible feat of magic per day, I think.”

 

“Okay, but I’m gonna help with that, ‘cause you’re not allowed to die,” Mika firmly says. “My ghosties can at least eat the bad things that try to come out when you work. Right?”

 

Shu pauses, then nods slowly. He’d thought, at least forty or fifty times while working on his “plan,” that if only Mika were awake, such a thing would be easy. “With you…yes, yes, I could do it. And I will, of course. Tomorrow. I’m out of time.”

 

“You might have to drag me out there, my legs aren’t working so good,” Mika says with a little shrug, muffling a sniffle into Shu’s chest again. “But I got it. I can do the thing. I’m good at it still, I think.”

 

“You’ll rest for today,” Shu says firmly. “And we’ll start physical exercises to regain some of your lost muscle tone. Then, if we live through the Gate closing, I’ll start work on your new eye.”

 

“Ain’t no ‘if’,” Mika grumbles, nestling up against Shu and digging his nails into his back to hold on tight. “Master’s th’ best, _obviously_ you gonna do it right.”

 

“Exactly right. I just, it’s only, I haven’t been feeling well,” Shu finishes in a mumble, his cheeks flaring pink. “You know how sometimes I…get a bit, well, distracted, and have trouble sleeping…”

 

“…Uh huh.” Mika’s pretty sure he can feel Shu’s blush through the thick hair on his head. “ _How_ long’s it been since Rei dumped you here?”

 

“He didn’t dump me, you little fool. He sent me on this incredibly important mission,” Shu informs him, tugging one stray lock of hair. “And since then, it’s been two weeks.”

 

“Dumped for twooo weeks. Has he been sendin’ you lots of naughty thoughts? Bad.”

 

“Not…as many as you might think,” Shu mutters. “He’s in the Shadowlands, difficult to get messages out of there.”

 

“Rei? In the Shadowlands?” That doesn’t compute, considering Rei hasn’t been into the Shadowlands in…however many years it’s been since Mika remembers meeting him. As far as he knows, at least. Time is funny, apparently. “Is your bond all stuffed up still?” Mika asks, contemplative. “Or have y’all got it all loud and clear? Seems inconvenient, if you do.”

 

“We mute it whenever there is a need, but if he shuts me out again without a time limit and a damn good reason, I’ll be able to show you my lovely new necklace made of his testicles.”

 

“Uh…huh. That’s a story. Want me to beat ‘im up?”

 

“I mean, yes, but that can wait.”

 

“Nah, I’ll eat his balls right now. What’d he do? I’ll eat all of his balls.”

 

“He was… _entertaining_ , when I needed help.” The memory of that day, of not-Nazuna’s cruel words, hits Shu all over again, nausea shivering through him. “And ignored me when I tried to call for him.”

 

Mika immediately makes a face, and slithers himself closer, trying to wriggle his legs around Shu’s in spite of how floppy he feels. “Bad,” he mutters. “You yelled at him, yeah? But I’ll beat ‘im up. He’ll cry but he deserves it. It’s okay now though, I’m back, so now you always got someone right here.”

 

“As if I’d let you around when Eichi is trying to come back. No, you’ll stay safe, where I can protect you.”

 

“…Hooold on, I ain’t hear nothin’ ‘bout that. He’s dead. Right? Like, real dead, how can he…” Mika fumbles for words when worry starts to take over. “I remember…feeling somethin’ weird with th’ king, back then. And Izumin flipped out a little…was that Rei dealin’ with that even back then? Ugggh, I missed too much, I hate this…”

 

“We’re not dealing with that now,” Shu says firmly, giving Mika’s hair another tug. “Now, pay attention, we’re going to do some of the most complicated magic the world has ever seen in the morning. Let me sketch out the Gate for you, are you ready to pay attention?”

 

Mika frowns, but nods, even as his hands slide down to more securely hold onto the curve of Shu’s ass instead. No one’s stopping him, and Shu _was_ complaining about him stretching out his clothes, so shouldn’t this be nicer, in theory? “Yeah, I got it. Hey, you’re not as skinny here, that’s good.”

 

“Hmph!” Having no response to such nonsense, Shu merely huffs, and wraps his arms more firmly around Mika. “Listen, I’m not going to repeat myself multiple times, so make sure that you pay attention the first time. You have a thick head.”

 

“Yeah, it’s gotta be like that to cushion all the fluff,” Mika says logically, entirely unfazed by the ‘insult.’ “But that helps it absorb stuff good, too. I always remember everything you say.”

 

“Don’t I wish that were the case. Anyway, let go, I need my diagrams, not that you can see them.”

 

Mika grumbles, tightening his hold rather than loosening it. “But I don’t wanna. What if I fall back asleep forever if I let you go?”

 

Shu opens his mouth, feels a lump at the back of his throat, and closes it again, rolling down onto the bed, muttering, “Maybe just…a few more minutes…”

 

“You should strap me to your back,” Mika readily agrees, nuzzling up into Shu’s neck. “Then I ain’t going anywhere, ever. I mean, I guess I gotta let go at some point, but that sounds bad…”

 

“What, like a woman and her baby?” Shu tilts his head to the side. “How large do they make those slings?”

 

“Dunno. I can scrunch. Hey, you didn’t answer me ‘bout whether or not your bond was all muffly right now or if you can feel Rei breathin’ down your neck.”

 

Shu’s lip quirks. “Would you like me to mute it? I modified the spell, it only takes a moment.”

 

“Really? That’s reeeal convenient, jus’ sayin’…”

 

“You just got up after five years, do you already have sinful thoughts?”

 

“For me, it’s like, a night’s sleep? So yeah. Definitely. But I think I would even if I _felt_ like it was five years, ‘cause I’m basically good for like, two things.”

 

“Yes, being perfect and being beautiful.”

 

“Nooooo, blowin’ stuff up with ghosties and bein’ a whore!”

 

“Disagree, and I’m always right so my answer is therefore correct. Besides, you rather weren’t good at being a whore down in the Sandlands, were you? From what I saw, you never exchanged money for sex.”

 

“Yeah, ‘cause no one would _let me_ ,” Mika growls, looking very, very offended by this. “I _tried._ I’m so good at it, I could’ve.”

 

“I know you are, I know you are.” Shu reassures Mika almost automatically, absently reaching out with his magic to flick up a thin barrier in his bond with Rei, not as thickly as a usual muting, something that would only work if it were _Mika_. “Perhaps you’ll get to use those skills someday, but this is not that day. For now, just…breathe on me, make me realize you can move.”

 

“I can move. Without strings, even,” Mika says, immediately stretching up to kiss Shu full on the mouth. It’s not like his bond _needs_ to be silenced for that, but…it’s still nicer if it is, because then Shu’s not so obviously fidgety or uncomfortable. His aim is still good, even if he’s mostly blind. “I can breathe in you, too, if y’want.”

 

“I don’t—really know what that means,” Shu manages, then gives up completely. His whole body shudders—noticeable, _embarrassing_ , overwhelmed, and he hadn’t realized just how much emotion he’d been repressing until now. It all comes out now, flooding through him, wracking his body, as if he can’t quite understand that Mika is here, alive, _safe_ , and his once again. “I’m—sorry,” he whispers, through trembling lips. “I’m—it’ll pass, it’ll pass in a moment, I’m s-sure…”

 

“Shh, shh, it ain’t gotta, it’s fine, Master, it’s fine.”

 

Mika squishes himself against Shu, kissing him again, petting his hands down Shu’s back as he huddles close. “Ain’t no one gonna bother us, right?” he quietly says. “So we can jus’ stay like this for awhile. I ain’t goin’ nowhere, I promise.”

 

Shu shakes his head—his whole body, really, but his head on purpose. “N-no, no, you don’t need to stop…surely by now you know that it’s possible to b-be intimate with me while I’m like this?”

 

“Uh huh. D’you want me to be?” Mika frankly asks, though he shoves firmly enough to flatten Shu onto his back and crawl on top of him, draping himself over Shu like a blanket. If nothing else, being a solid, somewhat warm weight might help. “‘Cause I wanna, but only if it’s good. Y’know, being naked might help.”

 

Shu grabs Mika’s face, holding him as firmly as his shaking hands allow. “I want you to never let me forget that you’re with me,” he whispers fiercely. “I want you to remind me with your mind and body that it doesn’t have anything to do with magic, we’re two parts of the same whole because we just _are_. Make me forget the last five years.”

 

Mika pauses, breathing in slow and deep, the lunges forward against Shu’s hand to kiss him again, harder this time, some of his previous accuracy lost in his sudden _need_ to have his mouth on Shu’s.

 

It takes _effort_ to move. That’s annoying. Shu’s mouth is so soft and familiar, though, that there’s no way it could’ve been five years without, and Mika squirms between Shu’s thighs, fisting his hands into Shu’s perfectly pinned hair as he kisses him again. “We’re a set,” he firmly breathes between kisses. “Even Rei says so.”

 

Shu nods, sniffling a little in a way that’s quite embarrassing, clinging to Mika as if he’s more than beloved, as if he’s the only true lifeline. “You…you’re right, you’re right, I’m being silly,” he says, blinking rapidly. “You can—“

 

He doesn’t expect his body to _respond_ , to start aching with heat, a desperate neediness overcoming him as he grabs mindlessly at Mika, half-tearing his shirt off, mouthing over the skin of his neck. “You’re too thin,” he accuses breathlessly.

 

Mika shrugs, uncaring as he grabs back, his fingers dragging down to the buttons of Shu’s shirt and ending up tangled in ruffles. “So are you—and you ain’t even got a good reason,” he sniffs, nuzzling up to set his teeth to the lobe of Shu’s ear and lightly tug. The muscles in his legs complain as he forces himself up to his knees, and he wobbles before bracing a hand against Shu’s chest. “Sorry that I’m floppy,” he grouses, even as he grabs one of Shu’s hands, dragging it down between his legs. “ _This_ still works jus’ fine, though, heh.”

 

“Roll over,” Shu breathes, wriggling down to help with that, his hand cupping, breath hitching as he straddles Mika, getting him down onto his back. “You’ve been out of this for so long, let me just…” He squirms out of his trousers, tossing them back over his shoulders as he strokes, licking his lips, the memory of being _that close_ with Mika burning inside him for five years, never leaving him, spurring him to live on if for no other reason. “I’ll take proper care of you.”

 

Mika sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, sparing no effort in arching off the bed into the smooth, warm touch of Shu’s hand around his cock. He hardens quickly underneath that touch, a breathless whine leaving his throat as he grabs mindlessly at Shu again, pulling him down within kissing range. “You…gotta stop h-having nice hands, or I’m gonna…” He trails off, chest heaving as he shoves himself up onto his elbows, planting a wet, sucking kiss to Shu’s neck, intent on leaving a hickey. “Now that y’mention it,” he breathes, half-laughing, “it definitely… _definitely_ feels like it’s been awhile…”

 

With a little thrill, Shu realizes that he’s not entirely sure how many times Mika can perform in any given night. They’ve never really had the time or opportunity to explore as much as they’d always wanted to, as much as had always felt _right_ , since their only intimacy had been in the middle of a secret mission. _There are still things I don’t know about him, still thing I can’t wait to discover…_ “If I let you,” he whispers, tightening his grip, “will you be able to service me afterwards? Or will I need to fill you up instead?”

 

At that, Mika laughs, the noise breathy and a little overwhelmed. “N..not to be like this, but I…I’m kinda used to Izumin?” he manages, slinging an arm around Shu’s neck to drag him down and keep him close. “There’s no _way_ I can be tired after jus’ one go, truuuust me.”

 

That’s enough to pique Shu’s interest, and he squeezes his thighs around Mika’s hips, shifting to rub slowly up and down, the curve of his ass, though skinnier than the last time they’d been like this, pressing against Mika’s hardening cock. “Is he so magnificent in bed? Mm, I should have allowed it after all, perhaps…but that’s a matter for another time, you’re so _hard_ —“

 

That’s a sudden, distracting thought that takes Mika’s breath away. “W-wait—you—and Izumin?”

 

 _Huh. Didn’t know I liked that thought quite so much_ , he dimly thinks, mouth falling open as the slide of Shu’s body against him makes him whine in the back of his throat, the noise turning hoarser, lower when his fingers scramble down to grab at Shu’s hips. He arches up, hissing out a sigh when his cock slides up the cleft of Shu’s ass, achingly hard now and dripping sticky-slick where he rubs. “At least suck his cock sometime,” he breathes, licking his lips at the mental image, and that’s enough to tip him over an already precarious edge, spilling with a breathy, hitching sigh as his hips twitch up one more time. “He…nhh…he’s got a re~ally nice one…Shuuu, you feel so good when you move like that…”

 

Shu nearly says that he was _trying_ to be _responsible_ , trying not to screw wild magic out of an untrained apprentice by accident, but the feeling of Mika’s hard heat pressing against him is enough to steal all of his words, enough to make him wriggle and pant, looking frantically towards the bedside table before belatedly remembering that this is not his room. “Ah…no matter,” he mutters rebelliously, and wastes a decent bit of magic, summoning a lovely bottle of rose oil from way back in the Academy. If he can’t be comfortable and taken care of, what’s the point of being one of the most powerful wizards in the world?

 

“Splurgin’,” Mika teases, flushed and sweaty as he flops back, taking in a few long, deep breaths of air as his fingers squeeze lazily about Shu’s hips. “You would’ve scolded me if I did somethin’ like that…nhhh, it’s the stuff that smells real good, yeah? Gimme.”

 

“It’s my first time having you inside me in years,” Shu breathes, shoving the bottle into Mika’s hand, leaning down for a long, slow kiss. “I want it to be perfect. You deserve that. So do I.”

 

The noise that leaves Mika’s throat is low and rumbly, pleased as he gently nips at Shu’s lips, sucking on his tongue. “If you don’t feel good, it ain’t gonna be good for me,” he agrees with a sigh as he draws back, uncorking the bottle and tipping it over his fingers. Immediately, the scent of vibrant, floral rose fills the air, and Mika wastes no time reaching down, shifting to make it easier to drag a pair of slick fingers against Shu’s hole. “You said it’s just been a couple of weeks, right?” he teases, pushing himself up to kiss Shu again as one finger sinks inside. “You’re _awfully_ tight for that…”

 

“A-ah…” Shu bites back a whine, highly conscious that this is _not_ his private apartment, with its lovely thick walls and high parapets, but a borrowed room in someone else’s castle. He bites his lower lip, squeezing down around Mika’s finger, that small intrusion already feeling like enough to scramble his thoughts, turning off the constant buzz of stress and self-doubt that usually whirls in his mind at any given time. “Th-then…loosen me up,” he murmurs, words slurring just a bit as he rocks down, hands braced on Mika’s chest. “Something larger than that…should do the trick, hmm?”

 

Mika’s face flushes with eagerness to do just that, and his finger wriggles in deeper, stroking insistently. “Not too fast, though, ‘cause we gotta do it a lot,” he murmurs, his breath hot against Shu’s neck. A second finger joins the first, far more easily than Mika expects it to, but that just makes his cock twitch eagerly. “And if you’re not nice and ready in here…nnhh, that doesn’t seem t’be that much of a problem, though…”

 

The thinly-veiled mockery makes Shu instantly, achingly hard, and he drops his head down to his chest, a shudder snaking down his spine. “I…suppose not,” he whispers, eyelids fluttering, heart thundering in his chest. “Don’t tease me, can’t you…can’t you tell what I want?”

 

“ _Now_ it’s a bit more obvious,” Mika says with a grin, spreading his fingers wider inside and letting his own breath escape raggedly when he feels Shu twitch around him, clenching down reflexively. “You gotta help, though,” he sighs, propping himself up onto his other arm as he lets his fingers slip out, shifting to adjust and align their hips, getting his cock where it needs to be while making sure to slick it with more of that oil. “You want it bad, right? Good, I bet you’re nice and hot inside.”

 

Shu nods, a little frantic, and shifts his knees wider, all but ignoring Mika’s hands on him, though he can’t ignore those lovely fingers _in_ him. “I’ll do all of the work,” he promises, brushing the hair away from Mika’s forehead, even as sweat beads on his own brow. “All of it, just…lie still, let me have it, it’s been too long.”

 

With that, he starts to work his way down, mouth falling open, a voiceless gasp the only sound to escape his lips, until that sweet, not-familiar-enough cock hits him just right, and that gasp is followed by a broken little whimper.

 

Unfortunately, Shu feels as good as Mika remembers.

 

Mika gasps as Shu sinks down onto him, his fingers trembling as they grab at those lean hips, nails biting into soft skin as he’s helpless to do anything but hold on for a moment, his own hips canting off the bed and up into that hot, _hot_ slick body. “Shu—“ It’s the only word that will leave his mouth, and Mika groans, flopping back after another moment of attempting to be useful or helpful, failing, and just settling on feeling _good_ instead as his cock throbs.

 

“I’ll take care of you.”

 

It’s the first time, gods help him, that Shu has ever felt truly in _control_ during sex, he realizes, as he rocks up onto his knees, then shimmies back down with a groan, reveling in the feel of Mika deep inside of him. _Where he belongs._ He bites his lip, eyes lidded as he rocks, slowly at first, then more demandingly, shifting around until he finds the perfect, mind-melting angle he’s usually lucky to find once in a good hard fuck, the one that makes his toes curl and his nipples tingle. With Mika at his mercy like this, he ignores the rest of the world, rocking down over and over, over and over and _over_ , feeling his mouth drop open and not caring, only chasing that mindless, animalistic pleasure that has him in its hold.

 

 _I’m supposed to be taking care of_ you _,_ Mika wants to argue, _desperately_ wants to argue, but that’s neither here nor there, and Shu is so perfect around and above him that there’s no point, besides. His hands paw mindlessly up Shu’s sides, thumbs dragging over the hard nubs of his nipples, toying with them when he feels them twitch, pinching when his own toes curl against the sheets with breathy little groans leaving his throat. It turns out, neither of them have much of a need for words when they already fit together so _nicely_ , and everything feels hot and slick and perfect without trying.

 

“I don’t—“

 

Don’t want to stop?

 

Don’t want to keep going?

 

Don’t want to come yet, because it’s so _much_ , but he only wants more?

 

Shu bites back a cry, clapping a hand over his mouth, riding out the wave as he twists and bucks, shoving down onto Mika’s perfect cock, squeezing tightly around him, as if somehow by doing that, just that, he’ll _keep_ him here, keep himself on the edge of that pleasure forever, even as he falls over the top.

 

Mika clings. There’s not much else he _can_ do when Shu shudders and gasps and arches above him. He manages to have enough sense to yank Shu down, shoving the hand from his mouth to kiss him silent instead with desperate, sloppy kisses, his hands clutching at Shu’s hair, his shoulders, anything to keep him close so he can taste him through the whimpers and groans that leave his throat.

 

His own cock twitches and pulses, buried deep inside no matter how Shu moves, and the orgasm that overtakes him this time is far less a release, far more a long, lingering wave of sensation that just keeps _going_ , leaving him trembling and clinging to Shu and _refusing_ to let him pull away.

 

Shu doesn’t move, doesn’t do a thing to pull away, couldn’t even imagine wanting to. After a long, slow breath, finally, he slumps forward, resting his forehead against Mika’s shoulder. “I’ve missed you,” he whispers, uncaring that he’s as limp as a boned fish, or that he hasn’t truly stopped crying for several minutes. “I…” But some words will never come easily to him, and he just turns his face, rubbing his cheek against Mika’s shoulder.

 

Mika stuffs his face directly into Shu’s hair, breathing in deeply as his wobbly, shaky hands stroke down Shu’s sweaty back. Being stuck together like this is probably the best thing, _ever_ , even if he’s being a little squished. That makes it better, even. “Yeah,” he finally manages to say, his own voice raspy. “I love you, too.”

 


	17. Chapter 17

 

The North, it turns out, is very good for fishing, even in the coldest, darkest months. Arashi has never tasted fish so succulent, so fresh, living as far from the ocean as he had, growing up.

 

Unfortunately, the North is also _hell_ on his skin.

 

“I wish the Drude would hurry up and attack,” he snaps crossly one ridiculously short day, applying a moisturizing salve thickly onto his face for the fourth time since breakfast, pouting at his reflection in a warped old mirror. “No one’s even _here_ , what’s it waiting for? Ugh, I used to be afraid of it, now I’m just bored. I miss Izumi. I miss the fucking _sun_ , I swear sunrise was only an hour ago and it’s already getting dark. How do you _stand_ it?” he demands of Tori, knowing Makoto will do what he always does, shrug and look nervous, and Mao will try to appease him, which is boring.

 

When Tori blatantly ignores him, Mao automatically opens his mouth to fill the awkward, empty air of conversation as a courtesy, only to shut it again when the front doors to the keep force their way open in spite of the pressure of cold and wind outside. “Are we…expecting someone?”

 

“If _any_ of you paid attention to the Northern borders, you would’ve,” comes the ruffled snap of the someone who forces their way inside, shaking off an amount of snow far more immense than the rest of her frame right onto the floor. With a heaving breath, a booted foot kicks the door shut again, and she rips off the hood of her cloak, shaking out silver hair that’s equally frosted over from the heavy blizzard outside. “Fuck, it’s cold out there even to _me._ ”

 

Arashi stands so fast he knocks his chair back from the table, eyes wide as he squints. Something isn’t quite clicking in his mind, and he turns his head to the side, blinking slowly. “Um…Kinsley?”

 

The sharp _look_ that Arashi receives quickly puts an end to that speculation. “ _Really?_ ”

 

Mao suddenly—helplessly—laughs. “Shit. No way. Sena—did Ritsu put you up to this?”

 

Izumi’s scowl deepens, and he (??) shoves his hair back from his face, ignoring Mao and shooting another look _up_ at Arashi (of which there is a much more pronounced height difference now, for better or for worse). “There’s an explanation, if you want to hear it privately. I can’t believe you didn’t recognize me, you’re actually the worst.”

 

“I have no idea what my dick is doing right now,” Arashi blurts out, as if trying to think around a giant rock suddenly in the middle of his mental road. “Um. Yeah. Explanation. Are those _tits_?”

 

Izumi heaves a long-suffering sigh before simply grabbing Arashi’s hand and dragging him away from the main hall. “You can touch them and find out,” he offers up flippantly. “They’re firm enough not to gross you out, I think.”

 

“I feel like you kind of basically misunderstand a few things about that?” Arashi follows, keeping up easily by virtue of his now _much_ longer stride. “Um, why? First of all?”

 

Izumi shoves open the door to their private quarters with a great deal of effort, pulls Arashi inside, and shoves it closed again as he flops back against it, exhaling a long breath. “If I tell you,” Izumi slowly says, staring up at him, “you’re _not_ allowed to be upset that you weren’t invited—especially because I didn’t plan part of this at all.”

 

“Um, I sort of doubted you’d done this on purpose,” Arashi says with a grin. “Or like, previous planning, at least. Unless you’ve always had a deep-seated desire I didn’t know about, _I’m_ the one who wants to be a girl.”

 

“No, the girl part was on purpose.” Izumi grimaces. “Even if it’s odd. I…thought of something, when I was with Ritsu in the Shadowlands, and wanted to see if it would work. So I took on this form and went to see Leo, in the Capital.”

 

Arashi’s eyes widen, and he sits immediately on the bed, tugging Izumi down with him. “Did he like it? Did he hate it? Did you do it? What does it feel like? Tell me _everything_.”

 

Maybe _Arashi’s_ dick is confused at the moment, but unfortunately, close proximity to Arashi makes it quite clear to Izumi that his own hormones are working just fine still, _thanks._ His cheeks flush, and he drops down heavily, wondering if he’s just going to _keep_ thinking that men somehow smell even nicer when he’s inhabiting a female form, or if he’s ever going to get his head on straight again. “I…mm. Yes, he liked it. A lot. And of course we—we did it, that was the point, I—“ Izumi huffs, and averts his gaze. “Now we’re at the part I can’t tell you unless you _promise_ not to be upset.”

 

Unfortunately, Arashi may be terrible at math, but love and romance are his specialty. His eyes widen, and he drops his hand immediately to Izumi’s stomach, mouth falling open in shock. “Did you— _can_ you?? Oh my gods, is it—how far—aaaahhhhh!!!!!!! I’m so happy for you!”

 

Izumi hisses like a cat, slapping uselessly at Arashi’s chest. “I wasn’t even to that part yet, dumbass! Ugh, you’re the worst, I was _going_ to tell you about how Leo roped me into marrying him like, right then and there, in that awful whirlwind way he does things!”

 

Arashi pauses mid-sentence, face gone white. Then, very carefully, he picks up a pillow, then screams into it as loud as he can.

 

“I _told you_ you had to promise not to be upset! It’s not my fault, you know! We’re going to have a ceremony and make it actually official later, this has to be totally secret!”

 

“I’m not upset!” Arashi protests, then immediately bursts into tears, sobbing on Izumi’s shoulder. “I can’t _believe_ you got _married!_ They’re happy tears, I promise, I’m happy, I’m happy, I’m just really overwhelmed!”

 

“Stooop it, stop it, you’re going to make me get all weird and weepy and I hate that!” Izumi bemoans, even as he slings his arms around Arashi’s shoulders and pets his stupid hair. “It still doesn’t feel _real_ —he called a priest into his room in the middle of the night and swore him to secrecy and—I mean, it’s on the rosters and what have you, but there’s no formal announcement. I didn’t want to announce it unless…well…”

 

“Unless?” Arashi asks eagerly, snapping back from his emotional meltdown almost instantly, light flaring in his eyes. “You are, right? You _are?_ ”

 

Izumi lifts his hands and firmly grabs Arashi’s face, squeezing. “You can’t tell _anyone_.”

 

Arashi’s lip wobbles. “Who would I tell? But tell me, for real, you _are_ , right? Oh my gods, it’s so weird? But so amazing? _Shit_ , why didn’t you do this years ago and marry me?”

 

“I didn’t know it would work or I would’ve!” Izumi huffs, softening his touch a bit, his fingers briefly trembling. “There’s a lot that could go wrong. If…if it comes out with silver hair, like all of my other kids, for example, it might not be accepted as a viable heir. Or if it’s as much a drake as I am, or a wizard, or…something equally strange, you know the whole country will be furious. That’s if I can even carry it to term and nothing…goes wrong.” Izumi drops a hand, fluttering it nervously. “If it is all fine, though, I’ll absolutely help you make a bastard, that should shut your people up.”

 

“Don’t be stupid, I can’t beget with the _Queen_ ,” Arashi says, aghast. “Oh…does that mean you outrank me now? Shit.”

 

“Fuck you. I always outranked you. In court, at least. But, yes, now I _really_ outrank you.” Izumi rocks back, looking faintly pleased. “I’m not the Queen; the title Leo settled upon was ‘Lord Husband’ which I think is good. I’m also the Commander of his Armies now, you’re welcome.”

 

Arashi’s eyes narrow. “I know infinitely more about armies than you do,” he mutters. “Don’t give me stupid orders, or I’ll let you know. But at least it’s you, and not Lord Wetherbottom, he was the _worst_.”

 

“Don’t be an ass. You should be grateful, I’ll basically sign any proposal you hand me because I _do_ realize you know what you’re doing.”

 

“Oh. That’s all right, then.” Arashi goes back to looking starry-eyed, as if they’d never paused to discuss army strategies. “Ahhh, do you really think you’ll have a baby? Are you scared? I mean, I guess it’s easier when you’re immortal, right?”

 

“I’m not immortal, just very hard to kill, so I’ve been informed,” Izumi wearily says, but he shrugs awkwardly all the same, leaning back and fiddling with the clasp on his cloak to unfasten it now that he’s warmed up a bit. “I’m not scared. Just…apprehensive? There’s a difference. I don’t want to get my hopes up, because there’s a huge chance everything will go wrong. Apparently, I’m just one big anomaly, but then again, drakes are basically never wizards, so there’s nothing like this on record.” His mouth purses. “Rei wants me to stay in the Shadowlands. I can’t, I need to be here.”

 

“You’re acting like you were gone forever,” Arashi laughs. “It’s only been about six weeks, you know? With all that travel time, you couldn’t have been in the Shadowlands for more than a day or two, right?”

 

“They stop _time_ there. It’s been several months.”

 

“Eehhhhh???”

 

Izumi heaves a sigh, and grabs Arashi’s hand, dragging it _properly_ down to his stomach. “You can tell, if you’re looking for it,” he grouses, lips pursing. “I was afraid I’d blow up like some fat Northern cow, but at least it hasn’t gotten to that point yet. It has definitely been _months,_ though, see?”

 

Arashi sits back, turning something over and over in his mind, even as he strokes over Izumi’s stomach—something he should be used to, but is so _different_ now somehow. “Ritsu must be half-crazy, then, if it’s been so much longer for him. I’d hate to live like that, with all the world passing me by. Scary for sure.”

 

“I’m amazed you’re not grossed out,” Izumi frankly says, though he relaxes visibly, obviously relieved that Arashi isn’t recoiling from touching him. “Ritsu is losing his mind, yeah. He’s doing better now that Rei’s in the Shadowlands with him, though…and me being there with him as a distraction helped, for awhile.”

 

“Can I see your…” Arashi’s eyes dart down to Izumi’s riding skirts, one eyebrow raising. “How did it feel to be like…to have him, you know…could you feel it happen?”

 

“Do you want me to just strip?” Izumi bluntly asks, eyebrows lifting. “I don’t mind, I think I’m _very_ beautiful. Sex is…not _that_ different? Maybe I’m the exception, though, because I like something in me, male or female,” he wryly says, reaching back to yank at the laces of his corset. “But it’s much more intense, sensation-wise. Having a hole made specifically _for_ dick is nice. And no, I couldn’t feel when I got knocked up, I wasn’t even sure at all for awhile.”

 

“Hmm. I think that’s a little disappointing?” Arashi isn’t really sure, and just shrugs, eyes hungry. “Not like I’ll ever get to experience it, or even want to, but something about the idea…it seems stupid that we can’t feel it happen, I always thought that part sounded so arousing. Take them off, you’re so pretty.”

 

“No, the _hot_ part is being able to _really_ feel when someone comes in you,” Izumi smugly says, and exhales a long, satisfied sigh when he finally shrugs off the tightly stitched leather and lace holding his chest in place. He loosens the front laces of his shirt, tugging it off and over his head to bare himself from the waist up as carelessly as he would have, were he still in a male body. “If you can stomach this,” he says, grabbing one of Arashi’s hands and pulling it to one breast, “I _will_ give you an heir some day.”

 

Arashi swallows hard. His hand cups gently, almost as if he’s weighing the pert breast, thumb brushing gently over the nipple, so much harder than it had been before, though about the same size. “It’s…it’s not gross, or anything,” he finally says. “Sorry I’m like this, you’re stunning, I’m just…”

 

“You don’t have to apologize,” Izumi mutters, huffing out a breath to try and sound dismissive when Arashi’s hand is suddenly _very_ distracting, and nice, and warm, and he _does_ wish his nipples wouldn’t get so hard, so fast. “It’s not like I don’t know. I’m just…offering. I also still look good in armor.”

 

“Ah. That would be nice.” It would. Arashi can easily imagine those silver curls spilling out from a gleaming helm, cascading over shapely armor to match, Izumi’s proud, familiar chin jutting out above the breastplate. “It’s so hard, does it feel the same, here?”

 

“Kind of. More sensitive.” Izumi hesitates, chewing at his lower lip before he gives into the urge to unravel the laces at his hip. “I’m going to strip and get it over with so you can go ahead and run away if you don’t like what you see,” he bluntly says. “Because you smell _so_ good to me right now, and I’m really into how much taller you are than me now, too. If you aren’t into my tits, I think my ass is basically the same. Leo said it was.”

 

Arashi pauses suddenly, pulling his hand back. “But—I mean, we can’t, no matter what, right? You’re…”

 

“Just because there’s a bun in the oven doesn’t mean I’m going to suffer for another six months! You’re not going to mess anything up.” Izumi huffs, leaning forward to unlace his boots. “The heir to the realm isn’t going to know that his mother’s a slut, don’t worry.”

 

“Ehh? But—but won’t I poke it? What if I make a twin and he eats all the heir’s food?” Educational limitations in the West do not extend to just math.

 

Izumi pauses mid-unlacing, and stares at Arashi through his bangs, somewhat amazed. “If you breed a horse, and she’s pregnant, can another stud knock her up months into the pregnancy? No. You _know_ that. Why would humans be any different?”

 

“But mares won’t go into heat again if they’re already pregnant,” Arashi points out. “Humans don’t have heats…right? I mean, do they? Women?”

 

“No, humans don’t have heats, but they bleed, and—look, just trust me, you can’t get me pregnant _again_ ,” Izumi exasperatedly says, kicking his boots off, once and for all. “You can’t make a twin. And you can’t poke it, either. It’s further up in there than your dick can reach, I promise you that.”

 

“Hey, how short do you think it is?”

 

Izumi glances to Arashi, then down between his legs appraisingly. “Can’t remember. Might as well show me.”

 

Arashi nibbles at his lower lip, thinking. “Show me properly. I’m not sure it’ll work, honestly, even if it’s you. Don’t be mad.”

 

“Yeah. I know.” Izumi’s lips quirk as he hops to his feet, unwinding the last bit of lacing. “Worth a shot, though, right?”

 

The layers of his skirt hits the floor, and he hooks his thumbs into his leggings beneath at the hipbone, tugging them down, stepping out of them. He exhales a short breath as he straightens, taking a tentative step closer again. “If you can’t, it’s fine,” he quietly says, absently tugging his hair over one shoulder. “Just don’t _tell me_ that you think I’m gross, or I’ll probably off myself before the king gets a chance to reveal he’s married.”

 

Arashi stares. It isn’t kind, probably, and it’s definitely not polite, but he’s never been this close to a naked woman before. “It’s so…neat,” he says softly, bringing up a hand to gently trace over the soft hairs on the mound, and the soft little lips below. “All tucked away, I always…had a different idea, the only women I’d seen before were whores…”

 

“Yes, well, I’m obviously _not_ a whore,” Izumi sniffs, struggling not to just lurch forward and act like the thing he just swore he was not. Instead, he allows himself to set his hands onto Arashi’s shoulders, squeezing slowly. “I’m neat and clean and I smell nice _everywhere_ , that has not changed and you’re welcome.”

 

“Where’s the hole?” Arashi grimaces. “I know I sound like an absolute idiot,” he admits. “And I don’t know what to do about that. I’ve never seen a woman this close before. Did it hurt, with the king? I heard it hurts for women.”

 

“You _really_ don’t sound like an idiot, I promise,” Izumi hastily reassures him, taking a brisk step forward to stand between Arashi’s thighs, deciding if nothing else, this _will_ be educational. “It’s not like men roll out of the womb knowing where to stick it in. I’ll show you, just with your hand, if you want? And it didn’t hurt at all—it only hurts women if they’re not turned on, I think? I’ve been with a virgin before, even, and she was fine.”

 

“It sounds so stupid to call myself a virgin, gods,” Arashi groans, but lets Izumi guide his hand, cautious, letting his fingers explore. “It’s strange,” he says softly, contemplatively. “I don’t know how to describe it. When I’m touching a man’s body…there’s that little prickle, you know? Even a man that isn’t that great. But like this, it’s…like touching my sister’s shoulder, or my mother’s arm, almost? That sounds disgusting, that’s not how I meant it.”

 

“I _will_ try to change that, fair warning,” Izumi says with a snort of amusement, biting his lip to keep back an incriminating little gasp when he pulls Arashi’s hand where he wants it, and the tip of a finger sinks inside just from how he shifts. “T-there it is, by the way.”

 

Arashi lets out a startled little squeak as his fingers explore the area, one dipping into that tiny little hole. “It’s so far down,” he muses, awed. “That’s got to be right near your arse, hasn’t it?”

 

“Uh huh—and if I don’t ever get to try having someone inside both at the same time, I’ll be _so_ upset,” Izumi groans, his legs wobbling when that finger sinks inside, even just a little. “Listen—you can’t deny convenience, it’s slippery on its _own_ , isn’t that kind of nice?”

 

“Terrifying,” Arashi mutters. “I can’t think of anything scarier, what if your arse started doing that? That would feel _terrible_ , right? It’s…is it supposed to be so hot?” His voice comes out a little hushed, despite his misgivings, his finger curling slowly.

 

“M-maybe you’re just too used to the cold here,” Izumi gasps, his nails pricking into Arashi’s shoulders as he clenches down reflexively, a low, hungry noise caught in the back of his throat. “Your hands still feel good, when I’m like this,” he huffs, and gives into the urge to _properly_ climb into Arashi’s lap, burying his face into that head of yellow hair.

 

Arashi draws back reflexively, letting out a startled little yelp. “Ah—oh, you’re here,” he babbles, scooting back, though that doesn’t really do anything when Izumi’s on his lap. “Um, listen, Miss—“

 

“Quit it, it’s still me,” Izumi grumbles, latching himself to Arashi’s shoulders and not letting go. “You don’t have to do anything about it. Just hold me, I’m not that different or scary, I just have an extra hole and you _seemed_ to not mind it so much a second ago.”

 

Arashi trembles a little, nervousness, anxiety, shame, confusion, disgust, arousal all warring in him, the way they’ve always done whenever he’s gotten too close to a woman who’s wanted him. “Just—it’s kind of—not that easy,” he says lamely, aware of how stupid it sounds, even to his own ears. “I’ve just got a kind of block about this sort of thing, all right?”

 

“And like I just said, you don’t have to do anything about it.” Izumi leans back, clapping his hands gently to Arashi’s cheeks. “No pressure. I’m not even hungry, so I don’t _need_ you to do anything. But it can’t hurt for you to pet me a little, right?”

 

Fiber by fiber, with an immense effort of will, Arashi relaxes his tensed shoulders. Lines around his eyes look more prominent than ever, far advanced for his age in the low lighting, and he wraps his arms lowly around Izumi’s waist. “Never been this close to a woman since I was weaned,” he says softly. “You do smell the same, at least.”

 

“Mmhm. And I’m not even squishier, Leo has always said I’ve got a woman’s ass, anyway,” Izumi grouses, pulling the length of Arashi’s hair over his shoulder to slowly comb his fingers through it. “How many women used to try and grab you back in the day? I mean, I understand _why_ they did. You smell even better to me when I’m like this, and that’s saying something.”

 

“What do you mean, back in the day?” Arashi asks, only a little bit affronted. “I still have them trying to get a bastard out of me to force me into marriage.”

 

“Before you kidnapped me into your army, and I started flirting all the women away from you,” Izumi snidely retorts. “Also, did you know how many women want to fuck me when I’m like _this?_ The answer is even more than before. Anyway, I told you, I’ll give you a bastard. Just—let me make sure this one works first.”

 

“Leo will still want it even if it’s another silver lady,” Arashi assures him. “He’d love it just as much, you know that.”

 

“But the country won’t, and I’m not willing to sentence a child to a lifetime of judgement and questionable legitimacy. If it’s another silver-haired girl, I’ll take her up North and she’ll stay here and we’re not going to tell the rest of the world that we’re married, plain and simple.” Izumi huffs, glancing away. “He’s doing a good job with the country. I’m not willing to ruin that momentum.”

 

Arashi moves his hands down, slowly squeezing that ass—and yes, he rather thinks it _is_ even more ample than before. Wow. “If it works, though, will you stay a woman?” he asks, curious. “How often can you change? Do you hate it?”

 

Izumi does his best not to inhale too sharply, though that’s easier said than done when Arashi’s hands feel very, very nice. “I…ah, no, I’m not going to stay in this form. The priest that married us knew who I was, I don’t think he could tell I looked any different than usual,” he admits. “I don’t… _hate it_ , but I don’t prefer it, that’s for sure. I think as long as I’m not pregnant, changing back isn’t really an issue, so long as I have the magic for it.”

 

“You’ve never had much of a problem with that, though, right?” Arashi asks, letting his hands wander to Izumi’s thighs. Those are far plusher than usual, though he knows better than to say _that_ out loud. “Don’t you get more by fucking? Or have I got it wrong?”

 

“Um…sort of.” Izumi tries to stay still, reminding himself that Arashi’s like a skittish horse and reacting too strongly will absolutely get him dumped on his ass. “Rei thought I might be a sex wizard. Ritsu proved him wrong. It’s…actually, you’re not allowed to tease me about this, if I tell you.”

 

“I’m not teasing you,” Arashi points out, amused as his fingers trace little circles, shifting up to Izumi’s hips, “even though you gave yourself a cunt on purpose. Try me.”

 

“You’re not teasing me _yet_ ,” Izumi grumpily says, slowly lacing his fingers together around the back of Arashi’s neck. “But even I think it’s embarrassing and awful and doesn’t suit me at _all_ , but whatever. It’s not just sex that my magic needs to function. It’s…intimacy. Even like this, you’re feeding me.”

 

At that, Arashi’s mouth falls open slightly, and he suddenly squeezes Izumi around the waist, pulling him close. “You’re serious? That’s so cute,” he says with a dreamy sigh. “So romantic. I love you, Izumi!”

 

“Stooop, you’re disgusting,” Izumi bemoans, though there’s no real protest in his voice when he melts into Arashi’s chest, not-so-secretly pleased that he fits even more easily into it now. “You’re really gross. It’s _stupid_. Damn it. That’s how I figured being pregnant…well, it would kill two birds with one stone,” he grouses. “One, fix the problem of Leo not looking legitimate enough, if it worked. Two, what the hell is more intimate than that? So my magic would sort itself out.”

 

“Is it working?” Arashi asks eagerly. “Did you see Ritsu? Did you stop by and see Mika when you were down there?”

 

“Of course it’s working, I’m brilliant,” Izumi sniffs, snuggling more firmly into Arashi’s chest. “I saw so _much_ of Ritsu, and I…didn’t a chance to see Mika, but I did see Shu. In High Harbor. He dressed me, he was thrilled.”

 

“Did you fuck him?” Arashi demands. “Can he do it, with women? Is it really just me and Rei that can’t?”

 

“I offered, and he politely brushed me off, so who knows?” Izumi sighs dreamily. “But I absolutely _would._ He’s so _tall_ , I never realized. Rei’s so upset, though; he thinks I’m _very_ special and magical and that even sterile wizards might be able to reproduce with my fancy lady parts, so he’s very annoyed that he absolutely can’t do a damned thing about it. I bet he’ll try to put Shu up to it.” 

 

“Whoa. You really think so?” Arashi’s eyes light up. “So I really could have a baby with you? Even if I could only manage it once? Maybe if you were on all fours? I know, I’m the worst, you’re a saint for putting up with me.”

 

“You seemed even vaguely interested earlier, which is more than I can say for Rei. He can’t even _look_ at a naked woman, he has to run and hide,” Izumi says with a snort of laughter. “I’ll let you take me however you want—hell, I’ll bind my chest up and you probably won’t even know the difference. It’s not like you ever waste your time with touching my dick, anyway.”

 

“Hey, don’t say it like that,” Arashi protests. “It’s just that you usually come without it, isn’t it better if my hands are somewhere else? You never complained before.”

 

“I’m not complaining. I’m just pointing out how we can absolutely make this work, if you want an heir.”

 

“Right, but stop talking about it _now_ , because you’re already in foal,” Arashi complains. “Oh…but won’t that…I mean, if you’re married to the king, I can’t exactly tell people that you’re having my child. I’d be fucking executed.”

 

“I’ll go to the Shadowlands, where time is apparently fucking meaningless, and come back out with a baby and hand it to you. I thought this through,” Izumi insistently says. “And no one has to be any wiser, especially if it’s not a silver-haired little brat.”

 

Arashi thinks about that for a moment, then nods, slowly. “That…could work,” he murmurs. “Especially since there’s magic that confirms paternity, right? I’ll just tell everyone that while I was up North, I romanced some girl, married her, and she died, and our child is all that’s left of her. Wow, this could _work_ , no one cares if I’m a widow, you know? Widower. Whatever. Much uglier word.”

 

“I’ll even back it up. It’s not like the Lord of the North doesn’t keep records of his people’s marriages.” Izumi bats his eyelashes up at Arashi. “Tell me I’m brilliant.”

 

“You’re brilliant,” Arashi says, and kisses a woman for the first time in his life. “And lovely. And _crazy_ talented to pull this off.”

 

Izumi beams, infinitely pleased with himself. “You can keep telling me that. And continue kissing me, that would be good, too. Do you _know_ how beautiful our child would be?”

 

“The most beautiful,” Arashi says immediately. “I know I should be hoping for a male heir and all that, but can you imagine how _cute_ a girl would be? Though, all of your girls so far just look like you. Not that that’s a bad thing.”

 

“Girls are always better because men are pigs,” Izumi forwardly says. “But if there must be more men, the more they look like you, the better. Shit, Mika wouldn’t let a brat like that go, ever.”

 

The lighthearted amusement in Arashi’s eyes dims, face falling. “No, he wouldn’t,” he says quietly. Remembering Mika, overjoyed and humming a lullaby to a couple of nervous children, knowing that even now he’s lying cold and alone in a tower, is more than sobering.

 

“Don’t say it like _that_.” Izumi heaves a sigh as he rocks back in Arashi’s lap. “Fuck. What if we just go to High Harbor and see if my healing’s up to snuff to finally fix him now? What are we doing except wasting our time up here? Technically, Rei’s sitting on this gate, that’s why he’s in the Shadowlands, so we’re just twiddling our thumbs. Tori should be able to handle anything that blows up for a little while, and the rest of my men are in the West, besides.”

 

Arashi brightens at that. “Really? Can we? Ehh, I didn’t want to ask, but it’s _cold_ , my face is chapping, and it feels so stupid to be sitting here trying to protect glaciers from a creature that might never show up, and that I couldn’t fight anyway.”

 

“That’s what you get for not using my mother’s recipe for face cream. I can’t believe you thought it was a scam.”

 

“I have been using it, you ass! I found a bucket of it in your rooms, that’s why my nose hasn’t fallen _off_ , but look at my chin! Look at it!”

 

Izumi looks at it skeptically, then licks it, just to fuck with him, especially when the chapped skin heals up instantly. “You know,” he conversationally says, “I bet if you fucked me, all of your wrinkles would go away.”

 

Arashi stares at him, long and hard, before reaching a hand down to cup himself between the legs. “We’re going to have some words,” he tells his groin firmly. “Strong ones. About you not being a coward.”

 

“I bet if we slept in the same bed, you’d just wake up with your dick hard and I’d suck it and you’d never have issues with fucking _me_ again, at least.”

 

“What the hell, why would you suck it? Climb on and get the money shot, isn’t that what it’s all about?”

 

“I was trying to ease you into this, but sure, all right, I’d love to just climb on it, get it hard and let’s go.”

 

“Wait, wait! You said while I was sleeping! I’m not ready! And you’re in foal!”

 

“Are you going to _keep_ talking about me like I’m a mare? Also, who cares, isn’t it better to test the waters and see if it’ll work at all by fooling around once or twice before we try for the real thing? I need to know how hard this is going to be on _me_ , too!”

 

“Hard on you?” Arashi demands. “What’s so hard about it for you, you love dicks!”

 

“Yeah. That’s why I’m talking about keeping _you_ hard. Getting you off. So you can come in me even though I’m like this and we can have a brat that hopefully looks just like you.”

 

Arashi huffs, and sits back on the bed, leaning back onto his hands. “Not like you don’t always have trouble with my equipment,” he mutters. “Seems like this much will just be normal.”

 

“I don’t have trouble with it, I’m just greedy. Damn it, don’t sulk, I’m not yelling at you,” Izumi grumbles, rolling off of his lap all the same and flopping onto his back, draping an arm over his face. “Sorry. I’m just trying to help—prematurely, I know, but I thought it was a good idea. It doesn’t help that you’re so hot that I want to die.”

 

“Eh? Why are you saying that like it’s different than usual?” Arashi demands, wrapping his arms around Izumi from the side, snuggling in close to him. “Gods, it’s weird that you’re so little.”

 

“All the more fun to put your dick in. Sorry. That was reflex.” Izumi rolls his eyes, mostly at himself, even as he starts to relax again and cuddle up into Arashi’s chest. “It _is_ different than usual. Not that I’ve ever had any hesitation about chasing after you or any other man, but when I’m in this body, it’s, ah. A lot more of a…a _base_ urge. I’ve caught myself thinking at least three times now about how easily you could toss me around or slaughter a cow for me so I could eat it whole. I don’t know, my instincts think that’s hot right now.”

 

“Please don’t mention cows,” Arashi groans, suddenly dragging a hand down his face. “Please. Your Northern cows are _ridiculous_ , they won’t stop lowing, and anyone I ask just tells me they want affection. What the hell? They’re _so big_ , why do they need to be that big? But sure, I could kill anything you want, baby, and I could skin it faster than you can, um, build me a soup base or whatever.”

 

“Stop it, that’s hot. I really want to eat raw meat right now and you’re making me hungry and horny and that’s a terrible combination.”

 

“Oh my god, you really _are_ pregnant, aren’t you? My mother always said that when she was in a family way,” Arashi suddenly recalls, from the depths of hazy memory, “that was the only time she ever cooked sow’s head, and ate the eyeballs with a spoon. Any other time, it made her retch.”

 

“I want to cut open a cow and eat its liver while it’s still warm. I’m just going to assume that’s the drake talking because I really, really hate every part of that, especially the eating part.”

 

That brings up a decent point, and Arashi frowns. “You…you _have_ been eating, right? I know how you get, but if you’re growing a tiny human, you have to feed it, you know?”

 

Izumi glowers back over his shoulder at him. “I’m not stupid. I’ve been eating. Why else would I be this fat?”

 

“…Are you using a warped mirror?”

 

“I’m serious. This is how you can _tell_ that I love your stupid ass, because I am willing to do this all again and get _fatter_.”

 

“Okay, but i’m serious, you’re _not fat at all_ and I have no idea what you’re looking at.” Arashi brushes a kiss to the back of Izumi’s ear. “I love your stupid ass too. And I will seriously, honest swear to the gods, do my best to use all my manly parts to grow a baby in you, once you’re empty.”

 

Izumi grumbles, reaching back to grab at the collar of Arashi’s shirt and pull him forward and down for a firm kiss. “Good,” he says, then adds, very seriously, “now go and bring me fresh meat.”

 


	18. Chapter 18

 

The problem with closing the Sorrow’s Gate, of course, that it’s quite difficult to manipulate something that, at its core, is nothing.

 

A Sorrow’s Gate is an unusual magical construct. It is, Shu has learned in the past several days of heavy research mixed with intermittent crying and petting and a few orgasms, a deficit. The leading research, since of course people who make Sorrow’s Gates don’t exactly like to show up and explain why they’ve altered the rules of physics into a greedy, hungry murder-hole, is that only a certain type of magic creates deficits and surpluses in the physical world, which is why a Paladin’s magic is the most physical type of magic. So, to create a deficit, one must make a negative surplus.

 

“Are you even paying attention to this?” Shu snaps, halfway through his explanation, as Mika’s gaze wanders away up the shoreline for the ninth time.

 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m listenin’.” Mika, hair trimmed and properly dressed in something more than nightclothes to look much more human and less like a doll that’s been left to rot in a bed for half a decade, blinks his attention back to Shu, no matter how looking at him _is_ fairly pointless when he’s mostly a blurry blob. Easier to follow by far is the lines of Shu’s magic that always seem to be in the air, floating about with far more contrast than the rest of the world. “Sorry. The magic’s weird here, I keep gettin’ distracted and seein’ stuff from far off…or maybe I’m jus’ imaginin’ it, I dunno.”

 

“I’m trying to inform you how we’re going to close the gate,” Shu says irritably. “And I’m nervous about it, so you’ll have to pay good attention and take over if I fall.”

 

“I’m payin’ good attention! I ain’t like everyone else, y’know,” Mika huffs, picking deliberately at the hems of his sleeves. “I can multi-task. I can look at stuff _and_ listen to people talk.”

 

“Oh? Then explain to me my plan, and how I’m going to close the Sorrow’s Gate.”

 

“Magical surpluses. Y’didn’t finish telling me how yet, though,” Mika says, his gaze flicking out down over the shoreline again, a frown tugging on his lips.

 

“Don’t be silly. Of course I did.”

 

“Nuh uh. You didn’t finish. Jus’ got done explaining about why Paladins are good for the job, so you gotta be like that, but y’didn’t finish tellin’ me how.” Mika narrows his eye. “I _swear_ there’s weird magic floatin’ around, I’m so itchy. Don’t you feel it too?”

 

“Yes,” Shu says shortly. “They must have used a creature from their world that possesses an equal energy signature that a Paladin does—exact shape and size, and anything smaller gets sucked in, anything larger floats harmlessly by. The energy of a human, for example, would be sucked right in and consumed, but the energy of a dragon doesn’t even feel a tug. Are you with me so far? Everything you see floating by is being sucked in by the Gate.”

 

“Yeah, I understand that. But I wasn’t talkin’ about that, it feels like something’s tuggin’ on _me_ ,” Mika complains, scratching at one arm irritably. “And not th’ gate. I _know_ it’s not the gate. My ghosties like it an’ want to eat it, so I’d know the difference.”

 

“Can they do that?” Shu asks, startled. “That would…certainly be faster and easier than the solution I had in mind.”

 

“We can try,” Mika dubiously says. “But jus’ ‘cause they _wanna_ eat somethin’ doesn’t mean they _should._ Also, pay attention to _me_ , is maybe Kanata doin’ weird magic?”

 

“No, it doesn’t look like him at all, have you forgotten?” Shu snaps irritably. “It’s clearly Izumi’s magic, must be left over from when he was here last week and is only now being dislodged and sucked in.”

 

“Ehh…it doesn’t feel like that, though. It ain’t going nowhere, it’s like—pokin’ around. Look, it’s kinda snugglin’ you, too,” Mika mildly points out, reaching out to physically pluck at a strand cording its way around Shu’s chest.

 

Shu opens his mouth, then turns pale, as a tendril of that magic brushes up against the ragged, wounded edges of his soul with deadly accuracy, as invasive and startling as if someone had reached a hand into his belly and started fondling his intestines. His step falters, and he falls to his knees on the sand, breathing suddenly heavy, eyes shut against the odd, disturbing sensation, trying not to vomit as his senses are totally overwhelmed and he’s unable even to speak.

 

“Master?!” Mika bolts up from the rock he’d made a home out of, forcing still-wobbly legs to move as he grabs for Shu’s arm to try and steady him when his own knees hit the sand next to him. “Master—are you all right? It wasn’t hurting me, should I—“

 

The sharp recognition of that magic becomes even _more_ prominent out of the blue, and Mika’s head jerks up as he defensively looks around, nervous, on edge. There’s no way magic that strong is _Izumi_ , not after the stories Shu had told him.

 

…and yet, over the height of the dunes, there are two horses, ridden by two very familiar faces. At least, that’s Mika’s best guess—even mostly blind, he’s _very_ certain he’s seeing who he’s seeing. “K… _kara?_ ” he manages, fingers trembling where they grip Shu’s wrists.

 

For a brief second, Arashi thinks he’s going to join the likes of Shu and that weird Keito guy, and simply faint. No, surely he’s dreaming—

 

But his body has always been quicker on the uptake than his mind, and before he can register or try to understand what’s happening, he’s throwing himself from the saddle, running full-tilt across the sands, flying down the dunes to grab Mika in his arms, lifting him clean off the ground and spin him around. “ _Amaka?_ ” he asks, incredulous, then laughs, then bursts into tears, then plants kisses over every part of Mika he can reach, and misses when he can’t.

 

Mika squeaks and squawks, not entirely able to process still that yes, he’s been asleep for five years, and this is just the sort of reaction people _have_ about him being awake and talking now, especially when it’s _Arashi_. That doesn’t stop him from being swept up into the moment, however, throwing his arms about Arashi’s neck to cling to him, dangling with his feet off the ground. “Y-yeah, it’s me,” he whispers, his arms shaking. “Sorry.”

 

Izumi, for his part, grabs the reins of Arashi’s horse, guiding both of them down the dunes to keep them from bolting. He opens his mouth to say something, then shuts it again, unable to think of anything to say as he strides to Shu, crouching down next to him. “I didn’t think it would affect you quite like this,” he quietly says, gingerly touching a hand to Shu’s shoulder. Underneath his touch, the magic weaving about Shu lessens, hovering instead of pressing. “Or I wouldn’t’ve sent it out ahead of time. Sorry. Can you stand?”

 

Shu’s hand shoots out to grab Izumi’s, squeezing it hard. “Don’t take it away,” he whispers, shaken. “It’s—I know what it’s doing, keep doing it, I just—“

 

Just didn’t expect feeling the ragged edges of his soul starting to be gently sanded down and urged into new growth to be so _startling_.

 

“Maybe when you’re somewhere more comfortable—I didn’t expect you to be out on the beach prodding at the gate,” Izumi admits, giving Shu’s hand a squeeze in return as he glances over his shoulder to Mika and Arashi. “How long has he been awake?”

 

“Day and a half,” Shu manages, and with another great heave of breath, he straightens up onto his knees, sitting back on his heels as he wipes his sweating brow. “Just out of nowhere. Was that you? Ah, are you and the king…you’re still female, that’s lovely.”

 

“That’s when I stepped out of the Shadowlands, so…my guess is it’s me.” Izumi can’t quite stop the relief from sliding over his face, nor the sense of satisfaction. “I told you I’d find a way to fix him, didn’t I?”

 

“Master? Master, you’re all right, yeah?” Mika calls, still dangling in Arashi’s arms—perpetually, it seems, and so his call comes over Arashi’s shoulder, where his chin is permanently hooked. “You’re real pale, you should go lie down! Izumin, is that seriously you? Your voice is a _lot_ higher.”

 

“I’m fine,” Shu calls, shaking his head to orient himself. “You just…catch up a bit, I’m going to catch my breath. I told you Izumi changed his gender, didn’t I?”

 

“…Uhhh….maaybe? _Kara_ , you’re squeezin’ too haaard, all my stuffing’s gonna pop out!”

 

Izumi rolls his eyes, even with no small amount of affectionate passing over his face. “He seems fine,” he quietly says, holding out his hand to Shu. “Are you sure you don’t want to go inside? I’ll help you there, and maybe we can try to temper the way my magic works on you, a bit? It’s strong right now, but I’m still clumsy with it, sorry.”

 

“Use it while it’s strong,” Shu says, eyes blazing. “You…you don’t know what it is,” he adds, quietly enough under Arashi’s whoops of joy that Mika won’t hear him, “to live as half a person. I don’t care if it hurts, let’s go inside and just…just do it all at once, if you can. Gods, I never thought anyone would be able to help.”

 

“…Not for nothing, I think I’ve probably got at least six more months of it being like this,” Izumi says, even as he grabs Shu’s hand and hauls him up with a little grunt of effort. “But I figured you’d say something like that. I also figured that trying to fix a gate like this with a big chunk of yourself missing is easier said than done.”

 

“I could have done it,” Shu insists, a little defensively, even as he follows Izumi inside. “It would have taken effort, but with Mika’s ghosts, I could have done it.” His eyes flick down, and his whole demeanor softens. “Are you..for certain, then? A happy announcement?”

 

“I know you _could’ve_ done it, but wouldn’t you rather it be stylish?” Izumi archly says. “Then you don’t have to have Rei sweep down from the Shadowlands to lift you up into his big, strong arms after expending every effort left in your body. And yes, I’m sure—whether it’ll be some deformed demon creature of the night remains to be seen, but I _am_ sure.”

 

“It’ll be beautiful.” Shu’s voice is wistful, though it isn’t as if he can’t manage to be happy for the Royal couple. “How are Kinsley and Elia? Do they still wear the dresses I made them, or have they grown out of them? Aa-ah, that’s…a strange feeling, isn’t it? Like you’re inside of me.”

 

Izumi pauses at that, then snaps his mouth shut, and simply pulls Shu through the front gates of the manor, deciding to at least _try_ and behave. “They’re so tall now. I haven’t seen them in a few weeks, but I’m sure they’ve somehow gotten even taller since. Ah…hm. Just sit down, no one’s here that isn’t trustworthy, anyway,” Izumi mutters, not bothering with the concept of getting Shu to a private room, and eases him down into the nearest chair within the open foyer. “I’m going to let it go to work again. It sort of…runs entirely on its own, it always has, but these days, it _really_ has a mind of its own and it works very, very fast. I’m sorry if it hurts.”

 

Shu looks around, then takes a strap of cloth from the arm cover of the chair he’s sitting in, sniffs it for cleanliness, and folds it carefully before placing it in his mouth, setting his teeth into it. “Do it,” he says, muffled around the cloth, and bites down.

 

Izumi heaves a sigh, and unhooks his own cloak from his shoulders as well, draping it over Shu and tucking it in. “You’re going to get cold as well. Trust me.”

 

One touch to Shu’s hair again seems to set the magic to work again, in one, great rush, flooding through Shu at an even more rapid pace than before as it fills every odd, nook and cranny of what had been torn out and lost. Even when Izumi withdraws his hand, it keeps going, working on its own, and to anyone that can see magic, it would appear as if little spidering ice crystals constantly were forming at odd, random places just beneath the surface of Shu’s skin.

 

Shu’s mouth gapes open, and when one particularly nasty snag unravels in his soul, he simply collapses, boneless and whimpering, shivering even after Izumi withdraws his hand.

 

After what feels like a hundred years of torment, so deep inside he’d rather have his bones rearranged, he finally opens his eyes again, staring blearily at the wall. “That was…less than optimal,” he says, voice coming out rough and broken. “You don’t have to check. I know…I can feel it worked. Ah. Thoroughly.”

 

There’s a very deliberate, _very_ concerned brush against the back of Shu’s mind, and when it isn’t initially responded to, the prod is more persistent. _My love? Shu? Shu, are you all right?_

 

“Sorry—sorry, I was afraid that might be awful,” Izumi mutters, reaching over to gingerly touch Shu’s hair, only to jerk back with a yelp when it feels as though he’s been shocked, or stung, like something has _bitten_ him. He realizes, belatedly, that it’s a magical sort of bite, a wary, defensive crackle of magic hovering about Shu that doesn’t belong to either of them. “Ah. Guess I should’ve told him I was going to be working on you, huh.”

 

 _I’m…he’s not hurting me,_ Shu thinks at Rei, though not very strongly. “Ah. You know…if you’d told me what it was like before, I’d have still agreed, but knowing what it feels like? I’m not sure. Excuse me,” he manages, then weakly flops his head over the edge of the bed and promptly vomits onto the floor.

 

“Easy, easy,” Izumi hastily says, moving forward reflexively to help Shu sit up again and not inhale his own vomit, but touching him again makes him jerk back. “Damn it—you know, asshole, I could actually _help_ your mate if you’d let me touch him,” he mutters underneath his breath, grabbing a blanket to haul over Shu instead.

 

“That’s not necessary.”

 

Izumi jumps out of his skin, whipping around to the sight of the Demon King himself standing _right there_. He opens his mouth to reply, then instinctively scrambles back when Rei steps around him, hoists Shu up into his arms as if he weighs absolutely nothing, and heads up the stairs. “Send for Mika,” he shortly tosses over his shoulder, then disappears around the corner and down the hall.

 

“…How do you even _know_ about—fuck it, I hate wizards,” Izumi mutters, shaking himself off with a trembling exhale before turning to do just that.

 

Arashi—and Mika—are in the exact same spot on the beach, attached with no sign of that stopping. Izumi clears his throat, which also garners absolutely no attention. “Arashi,” he settles upon. “Shu needs him, you’re going to have to resume this later.”

 

“No,” Arashi says, a bit thoughtful. “Don’t think I will, thanks. This is mine.”

 

Mika’s head lifts at the sound of Shu’s name, and he frowns, squirming a bit in Arashi’s hold. “Master needs me? What’s wrong?”

 

“I might…have gone a little overboard in fixing him too fast? Or at all,” Izumi mutters, folding his arms across his chest. “Rei’s here.”

 

“You gotta let me go,” Mika says, very seriously, hands on Arashi’s chest. “Release. Open the gates.”

 

“But—but the gates _missed_ you,” Arashi says plaintively, compulsively squeezing Mika even more tightly.

 

“The gates gotta open or I’m gonna cry, an’ it might get weird with one eye and a _socket._ ”

 

“It’s been five years, I’ve gotten used to it!” Arashi pleads, though he reluctantly relinquishes his hold, lip wobbling. “After this, we’ll go eat something tasty together, right? Izumi, keep me company, I’m going to be miserable.”

 

“Just lemme go check on him,” Mika reassures him, then bolts off, like a hound tracking a scent.

 

Izumi opens his mouth, contemplating a proper response for a moment before deciding against it. “I…did not realize,” he slowly settles upon instead, “that he would be awake. I’m glad, of course, but I was hoping fixing Shu when he was still asleep would…actually be what did the job.”

 

Arashi grabs Izumi, yanking him close, grabbing his face and hauling him in for a long, deep kiss. “Thank you,” he finally whispers, forehead resting against Izumi’s. “You did this, I know you did, I don’t care about anything else. Thank you.”

 

Izumi blinks rapidly, his face coloring as he shrugs, suddenly awkward as his gaze flicks to the side. “I told you I’d fix it,” he mumbles self-consciously. “Sorry it took so long.”

 

“I don’t love him more than I love you, you know,” Arashi says urgently, petting Izumi’s lovely long hair a bit. “I’m not ignoring you. I just—it’s been so _long_ , I miss him.”

 

“…You know it’s fine if you _did_ love him more, right?” Izumi says after a moment’s hesitation. “You’ve known him longer. He’s…I mean, obviously, you’ve always done everything for _him_.”

 

“I—“ Arashi’s head tilts, and he blinks a few times, unconsciously reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ears. “I…I thought that was the kind of thing that you don’t…you don’t do, or you try to acknowledge even if you _do_ do it, like if a parent has a favorite kid.”

 

“Arashi. You’re a dumbass. Who do I love more than anyone?”

 

“I mean, the king, obviously, but that’s not the same!”

 

“Isn’t it?” Izumi heaves a sigh. “We’ve talked about this a dozen times, remember? I…well, obviously, we care about one another,” he mutters, shrugging again. “But we both know who we want to actually marry—or we would’ve married each other awhile ago, right? That doesn’t make what we have any _less_ , just…it’s not the same. And that’s fine. I’m not threatened by him, I wanted to bring him back to you, _for_ you.”

 

What follows that is another kiss, another kiss, _another_ kiss, only slightly flavored with salt. “You’re…a really good person, you know?” Arashi says softly. “It almost makes me not want to throw you into the ocean.”

 

“Do _not_ ,” Izumi hastily snaps, swiftly stepping back. “I’m beautiful, I want to stay that way, getting salty and sandy is contraindicative of that and I will _not_ forgive you unless you fuck me while I’m in _this_ body.”

 

“Once you’re done with _his_ baby, I’ll try! I promise I’ll give it a shot! Hey!” Arashi says, his eyes lighting up, “now that Mika’s back, you have to do it with him, too. I want his babies.”

 

“You’re going to have to fight Shu for those,” Izumi bluntly warns. “The way he was looking at me—I doubt _he_ has it in him to put a baby in me, but I wouldn’t put it past him to put Mika up to it.”

 

“Have twins,” Arashi suggests cheerfully. “I mean, I have first dibs, I need one, but I’m sure Leo’s going to want an heir and a spare, yeah?”

 

“I don’t get to pick if I have twins or not! You—all of you, _all of you_ are going to need to _spoil me_ ,” Izumi growls, jabbing a finger into Arashi’s chest. “I’m not here to be everyone’s broodmare. You’re the only one other than Leo right now that has permission to even think about it.”

 

Arashi finds himself staring back at the High Harbor castle, eyes misting over. “I can’t believe it. I mean…I mean, I thought I believed he was coming back. But seeing him…I don’t think I did, you know? Not anymore. Not deep down.”

 

“He even seems like he’s mostly okay,” Izumi quietly agrees. “I figured I’d be able to bring him back eventually, but…in what capacity, I didn’t really know. I actually can’t believe it worked at all.”

 

“It…it did, right?” Arashi’s voice is so quiet, it’s hardly audible over the distant sound of the waves. “He seems all right, right? He’s not…look, it’s dumb, but did your mother or nurse or whatever ever tell you the story of The Stickyfoot Cat?”

 

“Sounds like disturbing Western nonsense, but okay. No, they never told me that story.”

 

“Wow, really? Ah…do you have any stories up there about creatures that are given, you know, they die, but they come back…but they don’t come back alone?”

 

“Sort of, but—Mika never _died_ ,” Izumi gently points out. “I can’t bring things back from the dead. I think that’s more his specialty, actually…”

 

“And we know that? We know it for sure?” Arashi asks, trying not to sound nervous. “Listen, it’s a really scary story.”

 

“You should tell it to Mika, then, and see if he likes it.”

 

“I mean, he’d love it,” Arashi admits. “Too much. He’d probably make a little doll of the Stickyfoot cat, actually.”

 

“Sounds like him. Either way, he’s not a Stickyfoot cat or whatever; I’m fairly certain he’s fine, and normal, but I bet Shu would be able to tell us that even more concretely,” Izumi admits, pushing his hair back from his face. “Maybe when he’s feeling better, you should talk to him.”

 

Arashi frowns. “Right…what did you do to him, exactly? And start from the place of a person who doesn’t really understand what happened to him in the first place.”

 

Izumi hesitates visibly, flipping over explanations in his head in an attempt to make it have some semblance of sense to Arashi. “In the Sandlands,” he finally settles upon. “When I bloomed. I…I did feel Mika die, then. Or at least, come as close to it as anyone ever has—like when I was certain Leo had died, before.” He swallows. “I think Shu thought he pulled him back from that edge—maybe he slowed Mika’s soul enough to make it possible for me to catch it, and anchor it, instinctively. I couldn’t fix it then, but I could…hold onto it. I think that’s what I did these past few years.”

 

Arashi thinks, searching desperately for a metaphor to make any of that make sense, and finds one. “Like when you’re climbing,” he decides, hoping he’s right. “And you’re tethered to your partner. You might fall, but as long as your rope stays intact, your partner can haul you up or anchor you to the rocks, right? So you’re saying, I think…Mika’s been hanging off the edge of a mountain, but you’ve got the rope tied to a rock? And either he climbed up the rope finally, or you hauled him up, yeah?”

 

“Something like that,” Izumi quietly says. “My magic was in a knot, more or less, and has been since I bloomed. I couldn’t feel where any part of it was, really—until…this,” he wryly says, fluttering a hand down towards his stomach. “I had an inkling that might be the case, somehow. But as soon as I was with Leo again, I could tell where all of my magic was _going_ , and there was a thread that led directly to Mika. I’ve been feeding that, and pulling on that, since I knew it was there. So—I think that’s why he woke up again.”

 

Arashi nods slowly, feeling his mind wrap around the information, molding to the shape of it. “Right. Okay. I think I’ve got it. So…uh, what was wrong with Shu? And if possibly, try to keep the climbing metaphor? Or maybe something with horses? Magic is so confusing to me.”

 

“I think the climbing metaphor kind of works still. He’s the one that got dragged down with Mika, and—you know that nasty rope burn you get when you slide down too fast? That, but bad enough to rip his skin off. Just…instead of skin, it’s his soul. It was missing pieces. Big, raw pieces—“ Izumi shivers, shaking his head. “So I had to encourage them to…fill back in. I think when Mika nearly died, part of Shu was ripped to shreds in the process. You know how Rei always says they’re a set? I think he’s serious.”

 

“Like Mika was holding Shu’s hand and ripped it off?” Arashi asks, brow furrowed. “It’s…it’s worse than skin, right? You always lose bits of skin when you climb, that just happens, but…what did you…how did you fix it? I mean, I know, I know, magic, right? I just…well. I don’t get it, but I’m glad you’re smarter than me _and_ more powerful than me.”

 

“You know how certain poultices will encourage wounds to heal, but there’s nothing you can really do beyond waiting for the body to heal itself? That’s…all I could really do,” Izumi admits, glancing down. “It’s like scraping off all the scabs and gross bits off of a wound, packing it, and waiting for the body to do the rest. That’s what it felt like, anyway. Magical soul bits or whatever aren’t _so_ different than physical bodies, I guess.”

 

“That feels wrong somehow,” Arashi mutters. “Shouldn’t it be…you know, different? Better? Holier? You’d think he’d have to see a priest, not a healer. Maybe what you’re calling the ‘soul’ is really something else, like a piece of his magic, his magical self.”

 

“I’m…pretty sure it was more soul than magic. His magic still works fine, we’d have noticed it if it wasn’t. That eye Mika’s missing—I think that was part of Shu, somehow.”

 

“Wait, what the _fuck?_ I thought it was a magicked marble!”

 

“I mean, yes, but magicked in the sense it was an extension of Shu. There’s not really any other way it could be that perfect.”

 

Arashi blinks, puzzled. “But…that seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to? I thought magic was better than that. Are you telling me that it costs a human eye to do a spell like stepping from city to city, but there’s no spell that can make an eye? This seems kind of backwards, doesn’t it? Ugh, magic is so confusing!”

 

“Magic isn’t a fix-all,” Izumi quietly says. “There are a lot of limits, especially when it comes to the human body, and most of it is just an elaborate illusion, anyway. Why do you think wizards are so neurotic about keeping me around? I can fix things that usually can’t be fixed, for better or for worse.”

 

“Why are you so special, then?” Arashi demands, with the affronted and disappointed air of someone who has long believed that wizards can do anything they want. “Why not some other half-drake? If you’re immortal, and drakes love breeding with humans, where the hell are the rest of them? Why are _you_ the one that has to do all of this?”

 

“Apparently, most half-drakes don’t have a fourth of the power I do,” Izumi glumly says. “And drake blood mixed with other kinds of blood just sort of…muddles, most of the time. The royal line up North is different, though; it’s all just human and a little smattering of drake, from back in the day. I’m just the first half-blood born from my line in a long time, so that’s probably got something to do with it. Also, I swear the universe knows I just want to swing a sword and is doing this to spite me.”

 

“If it helps,” Arashi says, after attempting to process all of this, “I think it’s really attractive that you’re the best at like, eight things. I mean, I’m jealous, and I’m going to have to fight you constantly until I’m dead to prove that I’m still the best at one damn thing, which is swords.”

 

“Fuck you. I mean that in the literal sense, but I’m only going to tell you this while I’m sober _once_ and that’s right now: it’s very hot that you can knock me on my ass, please do it all the time.”

 

“I—“ Arashi starts to respond, then pauses. “I mean, once you’re done. With the…you know. I couldn’t hit a _lady_ , I’m not a monster.”

 

“I’m going to need you to get over that, because technically,” Izumi smugly points out, “I’m your commander.”

 

“But—but a woman can’t be!” Arashi protests. “And even if she could, you can’t, you’ve got a prince in you! What if I poke him with my sword?”

 

“There’s a joke there,” Izumi mildly says. “But mostly, you’re sounding like a misogynistic ass. The head of the armies in the North when I was a child was a woman. I don’t see how this is any different. If I want to spar, I’ll wear armor, plain and simple.”

 

“Is the baby immortal?” Arashi asks, horrified, fascinated, and delighted by the idea of a female head of the armies. “I’m going to want to hear about her, by the way. But like—Kinsley is like you, right? But Elia, not as much, or do I have that wrong?”

 

“I don’t know if it’s immortal or not yet—I’m _not_ immortal, by the way, Ritsu has informed me of this,” Izumi grumpily says, rubbing his arms as a swift wind blows off of the ocean, spraying water their way. “Let’s go to the estate while we talk, I want to sit and be warm and pampered. Maybe we’ll even get to see Mika at some point, imagine.”

 

“Is he having to do something for Shu? Or is it just a sort of…togetherness thing, a _them_ thing? They’re so strange.” Arashi slings an arm around Izumi’s waist, walking him closer to the castle. “Wow, your waist is so _small_ when you’re like this.”

 

“You can tell me that again,” Izumi says, pleased, and promptly nestles his way into Arashi’s side. “I have no idea, but Rei _immediately_ told me to send for Mika. They are definitely just strange, aren’t they? I’ve always been confused that they aren’t bonded, but I feel like they probably are confused about that, too.”

 

Arashi is quiet for a moment, and finally says, very quietly, “That’s my worst nightmare. That Mika finds someone, and bonds to him. I know that’s dumb, but…but it isn’t, is it? It isn’t dumb. It happened to Shu, Rei, you, the king…it happens a lot. Hell, you can’t control it, but that’s your whole life, isn’t it?”

 

“Pretty much.” Izumi hesitates, then curls an arm about Arashi’s back, fingers twisting into the back of his tunic. “I hate saying things like this, but in a way, I’m grateful that my bond was destroyed like it was. I can’t imagine having that as a distraction the rest of my life, even caring about Makoto like I do. Rei and Shu, at least they ended up being a good match.”

 

“If it weren’t for them, I’d think bonds were just a curse,” Arashi says flatly. “I don’t know anyone else that has a bond that doesn’t hate it.”

 

“Kanata has one,” Izumi points out. “With Morisawa. They’re happy. I mean, he’s a fish, but they both seem okay with it.”

 

“Yeah, but theirs is really weak, right?” Arashi presses. “They never seem that unhappy to be apart. The only problem it seems to cause is that the Captain always seems kind of lonely. And that you can’t fuck him, of course.”

 

“Yeah, he’s suffering, obviously. I wonder if he’d fuck me like this,” Izumi muses, tilting his head to the side in thought. “Maybe I’m more his type as a woman.”

 

“He’s _bonded_ ,” Arashi reminds him, rolling his eyes. “You think he likes women? He’s into a man fish.”

 

“Because it’s a weak bond, he can probably fuck whoever he wants,” Izumi scoffs. “You know Rei and Shu are an outlier, right? Like, a _really_ big one.”

 

“I’ve only known a couple people with them,” Arashi complains. “And Ritsu’s seems fake.”

 

“Mmm. What gives you that idea?”

 

“I mean, I know it’s not,” Arashi says hastily. “But he never really talks about that guy, does he? I mean, they’re gross and weird around each other, it just seems…I don’t know. If it does ever happen to me, I think I’ll ask Rei to break it, you know?”

 

“You probably wouldn’t even be able to feel it, you’re not a wizard,” Izumi points out on a sigh, tugging Arashi up the front stairway. “It’s when it’s broken that it’s awful. Magic’s stupid like that.”

 

“Leo felt it,” Arashi argues. “He felt it before it was broken, he used to follow that guy around like their balls were tied together.”

 

“Their bond was different, too,” Izumi wearily points out. “An outlier. The previous Emperor was an archdemon thing, so I can’t say I’m surprised.”

 

“So I’m right to be scared,” Arashi says flatly, opening the door for Izumi without a second thought. “Who knows if mine would be to an outlier? Or if it was Mika, he’s a wizard. He could feel it. He’d leave me.”

 

“I doubt very much that he’d up and leave you.” _Unless it was with Shu, somehow,_ is the unspoken comment that Izumi bites his tongue on, but Arashi is probably thinking it, anyway. He steps into the warm estate, exhaling a content sigh. “It’s kind of attractive when you’re very chivalrous and treat me like an actual lady, I can’t explain why.”

 

“Aren’t you a lady?” Arashi asks, quizzical. “I mean. You look like one. You smell like one. Your…you’ve got them, all the parts you look like you have.”

 

“Lady Sena is my mother,” Izumi says. “Even if I take on a woman’s form, I’m still a man. I have to be, politically. You know that.”

 

“Ah…no, I actually don’t get that? I mean, a woman can be the ruler of the North, right? And you’re married to the king. I’m more, what do you call, familiar with, well, law in the West.”

 

“Maybe I just don’t know Western law very well, then,” Izumi wearily says. “In the Capital, being a woman means I could never command the king’s armies. This isn’t my true and natural form, either, so that also makes the line blurry when I don’t intend to _stay_ in it, but I still intend to have his kids, if possible. The North is an outlier and shouldn’t be counted, just…understand that.”

 

“Are your kids going to be legal? Oh, wait! This is one of those, what’s the name…” Arashi waves a hand in a tight, urgent circle, trying to find his word. “Right, a loophole! Right? There was one of those in the West, it’s the one that made it possible for me to become Lord—like, no commoner is allowed to become Lord of the Dominance, but they found some old childless noble to legally adopt me, and then I wasn’t one anymore. Something like that, right?”

 

“I guess you could call it a loophole—I don’t see any reason why the kids shouldn’t be legally able to inherit, because they _will_ be Leo’s, and they can magically test the parentage. And I’m a wizard, so most of the men questioning any legality of it wouldn’t understand the magic behind shapeshifting if they tried.” Izumi sighs, shrugging heavily. “The biggest thing I’m worried about is the kids popping out with silver hair. Every member of the royal family has some kind of red hair, there’s no way around it, as far as the people are concerned.”

 

“Well, that’s the legend, right?” Arashi asks. “About the fire god, and the forbidden kiss. You think it’s real, or just good genetic planning?”

 

“They’re all inbred. I mean, Kasa’s married to his cousin without a second thought. I’m going with genetics.”

 

“Aw. It was such a cute story.” Arashi shrugs. “How far back does silver hair go in yours? It’s the melding of two dynasties, isn’t it?”

 

“It’s just the drakes, I think,” Izumi says. “My mother, her sister, their mother…all dark hair, nothing fancy. I’m the odd one out, but everyone up North knows stories about silver-haired children born in the autumn, so no one thought anything of it. But they’d think something of it in the Capital—I mostly just don’t want a child of mine to have to deal with that again.”

 

“At least it’s not going to be born in the autumn,” Arashi says cheerfully, waiting for Izumi to go up the stairs before following. “Right? Because you and he, it isn’t Midwinter yet. Should be late summer, yeah?”

 

“Don’t remind me, I have to be fat for another six months,” Izumi grumpily says, trudging his way up. “I need to get off my feet or I’m going to die. And maybe eat another cow.”

 

“When is the last time you ate? Don’t lie. I can tell when you’re lying.”

 

“….When you killed that other cow for me a few days ago?”

 

“Izumi, you _promised_. You promised you’d eat every day for the baby! What if it’s not immortal because it’s taking all of your special magic and you’re _starving_ it?”

 

“I don’t think that’s how it works at all! I don’t _want_ to eat everyday, it makes me feel gross and then I end up throwing up everywhere anyway!”

 

“That’s a normal thing that a pregnant woman does! It doesn’t mean you should stop eating!”

 

“Yes, well, I hate it,” Izumi huffily says, folding his arms across his chest as he comes to the top of the stairwell, glowering down at Arashi. “Also, I’ll get fat.”

 

“Mm, yeah, but you’ll get thin again,” Arashi assures him. “You’ll snap right back, I can just tell. My mother always said that if a woman has a tiny waist and wide hips, she’ll be thin again before the babe’s weaned.”

 

“ _Weaning_ —the insinuation it’s going to be on my tits for more than the first day, no, thank you, he’ll have a proper wet nurse like every real noble child,” Izumi sniffs. “Then I can go back to being a man with a dick that you’ll actually touch. Sorry. I know I keep bringing it up, I’m just _hungry_ after Shu.”

 

“Hungry for what? I told you, I don’t mind doing it with you as long as Mika’s there, once you’re, um, empty.”

 

“Do you still actually think your dick is gonna poke the baby’s head or something?”

 

“Look, I know how long I am, I know how far it is from your crotch to your belly!”

 

“That’s…that’s not how it works. At _all._ ”

 

“Don’t act like I’m dumb, I know where babies are! They’re in the belly!”

 

“I mean…positionally? But they’re not—ugh. There’s other things in the way, and there’s no way your dick could actually poke it!”

 

“Don’t be dumb!” Arashi nearly yells, a little stressed, voice wild. “Look, touch where it is. I’m gonna—just—touch where it is, we need to measure.”

 

“There’s a lot more than just the _outside_ measurement you’ve got to consider,” Izumi exasperatedly says. “There’s also a lot going on inside, you know! Actually, you probably don’t know at all, ugh, that’s awful and kind of adorable, I hate this.”

 

A door down the hallway swings open, then clicks shut again quietly, and Izumi exhales in relief at the sight of Mika carefully stepping out. “Thank the gods. _Mika_ , tell Arashi that his dick won’t bother a baby if he fucks a woman.”

 

Mika blinks his eye a few times, the request taking him entirely off-guard. “Um. Uh. What?”

 

“Well, look at him!” Arashi says, gesturing wildly at Izumi. “You see, right? He’s got a prince in there, I wouldn’t want to get my head caved in by some guy trying to get his rocks off!”

 

Mika’s head tilts entirely to the side. “But… _kara_ …um…first of all, babies sit up a lot higher than that, and there’s like, a couple of walls in the way.”

 

“See? _See?_ ” Izumi triumphantly says. “Hah! I’m right!”

 

Arashi scowls. “But the, the man, he’s the one who plants the seed in the woman. So if the seed can get in, so can the rest of the dick if it goes far enough, right?”

 

“The seed swims up, it’s got flippers,” Mika patiently says, wobbling his way over to Arashi and taking his arm. “Then once it’s in there an’ th’ baby’s in there, all th’ walls close up. So even if you’ve got a cock like the Demon King, ain’t no way you’re gonna be pokin’ a baby.”

 

Izumi wrinkles his nose, turning away with a shudder. “Though a dick that big sounds _bad_ right now, I have to admit.”

 

“There’s no way you know all of this about what’s going on inside a woman,” Arashi accuses. “She’s all sealed up! What’s up with the walls? Where’d they come from? Where do they go when—and another thing, even if there’s _walls_ , they’re not bones, right? So they’re bendy, otherwise you’d feel them. So I might poke a hole in them? Women are _terrifying_.”

 

“ _Kara…_ I grew up in a whorehouse. I actually know a lot about pregnant ladies.”

 

“But you’ve never been _in_ one.” Arashi pauses, then adds, “Like, lately. And it’s not like you can _see_ inside.”

 

“Doesn’t mean I don’t know,” Mika wearily says, eyebrows raising. “I can read. And I’ve definitely been in a pregnant lady. Izumin, are you really that short?”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Izumi demands. “You’re—you know, women are just shorter than men, that’s normal.”

 

“Yeah, but…I didn’t expect it. For you t’be shorter, or for you to be a woman.” Mika pauses. “Or for you t’be pregnant…apparently?”

 

“A little prince,” Arashi coos, stealing over to Mika to snake his arms around him from behind. “You feeling better, _amaka_? Is he…um, is his magic skin less shredded?” _I’ve got this metaphor._

 

“…W…what?” Mika manages, staring up at Arashi with a startled blink.

 

“Arashi, that was very much _our_ metaphor, not a universal one.”

 

“Right. All right, so there’s a rope, and a mountain—“

 

“…Master’s gonna be fine,” Mika slowly hedges, holding a hand gently over Arashi’s mouth. “Shhh. You don’t gotta talk about magic, you don’t know nothin’ an’ that’s for th’ best.”

 

Arashi lets out a “hmph,” but desists on the subject. “Just wanted to know how he was doing,” he mutters.

 

“Mm. He’s gonna be okay.” Mika stretches up on tiptoes, flopping into Arashi’s chest with his arms around his neck. “Sorry I had t’run off. I’m good for a little now, ‘till I need t’check on him again.” He squints to get a better look at Arashi’s face, then gives up to just stroke his fingers down his cheek instead. “You’re still pretty, I don’t think y’got older.”

 

Arashi’s face crumples as he tries not to entirely lose it. “Mika…you’re so good, I love you so much,” he whimpers, squeezing him as tightly as possible. “You know I’m never letting you go, right?”

 

“You’re gonna snap my spiiiine,” Mika whines, though he sounds sort of pleased about it instead of unhappy in any way, shape, or form. “If you’re gonna break me in half, y’gotta do it in a seeexy way, okay? Tell him, Izumin!”

 

“What’s the point if it’s not sexy?” Izumi dryly says.

 

“See? Nnhh, _karaaa_ , I miissed youuuuu.”

 

“ _You_ missed _me_?” Arashi asks wetly, lifting Mika off the ground without bothering to wait for permission. “I was talking to a snog for months, pretending you could hear me!”

 

“I was havin’ snog dreams!” Mika defensively says, dangling in Arashi’s arms. “I dreamed I was a snog, an’ you kicked me!”

 

Arashi’s eyes bulge, and he looks between Mika and Izumi, then back again. “Seriously? What else about? Because I did, I did kick the snog! Just once, it was a long time ago, we got really close after that, but….”

 

“You _kicked_ Cupcake?” Mika says, utterly aghast. “ _Kara._ You’re so mean, how could you?”

 

“It’s probably just a coincidence,” Izumi says with a frown. “Mika, you don’t remember any other specific instances, do you?”

 

“Ummm…lots of snow? Diggin’ in it. That was good. _Kara_ didn’t kick me then,” Mika darkly adds.

 

“It was _one time!_ And I let him sleep with me after that—And there _was_ a lot of snow, right!” Arashi says excitedly. “I knew it, I knew your soul was in Cupcake!”

 

“That’s not—there’s no way it could be,” Izumi exasperatedly says. “Maybe he was projecting, but his actual soul…”

 

“Being a snog would be th’ _coolest_ thing in th’ world,” Mika very seriously says. “I totally wanna be a snog. I jus’ dreamed ‘bout it, though, but I probably wanted t’be with _kara_ so much that I would’ve projected into a snog.”

 

“It’s fine,” Arashi says, a bit deflated. “I wanted to be with you so much, I pretended that Cupcake was you. I knew I was crazy.”

 

“ _Kara_ —I’m sayin’ it probably was me. Projectin’ means I like…dreamed my way into the snog head. Somehow. Kinda possessed it, maybe. It wasn’t my soul bein’ displaced or anything, but I was still there, kinda.”

 

“Oh! Good.” Arashi presses a kiss to the top of Mika’s head. “Then you were with me. I knew I wasn’t crazy!”

 

“You’re still a little crazy. There’s no way it was me all th’ time, so you definitely probably cuddled up to Cupcake.”

 

“Yeah…we’re kind of an item now.”

 

Mika’s eye gleams as he leans up closer to Arashi’s face. “I want,” he lowly says, “Cupcake and _kara_ babies. Go on.”

 

“I…feel I have been misinterpreted?”

 

“Y’said y’were an item. So go on. Make me some hybrid babies.”

 

“Getting weird, Mika.”

 

“No, Izumin. It’s good.”

 

“Mika, I can’t even screw a human woman.”

 

“Also, I think Cupcake’s a boy,” Izumi dryly puts in.

 

“Nah, you can do it, I know you can,” Mika dismissively says, flopping backwards into Arashi’s arms. “Also, I bet y’could fuck Izumin. Look at ‘im, he’s pretty. Ah, I wanna be flat.”

 

“What room are you in? I could’ve been off my feet an hour ago.”

 

“Th’ one next t’th’ one I came out of. _Kara_ , carry meee.”

 

Arashi doesn’t need any more prompting, and lifts Mika princess-style into his arms, nuzzling into his hair. “To the ends of the earth, with any luck. And I’m definitely going to have sex with Izumi, but you’re going to have to help me.”

 

“Oh nooo, not that, never that,” Mika hums, letting his feet kick slowly as he flops in Arashi’s arms. “I mean, if you’re gonna fuck a girl, it would be a girl that looked like Izumin.”

 

“Or just, me,” Izumi deadpans, following along after them. “As a girl.”

 

“Yeah, that one, but shapeshiftin’s weird.”

 

“He has one,” Arashi says gloomily. “The thing.”

 

“Uhh…I’m assuming he’s got two tits, not one, so you gotta mean his pussy.”

 

Arashi lets out a noise that sounds like a whale in the midst of both slaughter and heartbreak all at once.

 

“Stop it, you definitely put a finger in me,” Izumi scolds, hauling open the specified door and leading the way inside to promptly collapse onto the bed, facedown.

 

Mika’s eyebrows raise. “That’s a lot more than I expected,” he says, patting Arashi’s shoulder. “I’m proud of you, _kara_.”

 

“I was distracted! He’s really pretty! Did you know the whole is way down, like by the arsehole?”

 

“Yep. Where’d you think it was, in the front?”

 

“Well, _yeah_ , I expected it to, you know, match up. To where a man’s is. I mean, women are already shorter, how are you supposed to line up if their hole is lower, too?”

 

“You gotta grab their hips and hoist ‘em up a little. I dunno, it’s pretty easy. And girl thighs are a lot softer—I mean, Izumin’s are probably about the same, but…”

 

“Ooooi.”

 

“Look how tiny his waist is, though,” Arashi says, eyes widening as he tries for some damage control. “And isn’t it cute how he’s all tiny and short and delicate?”

 

“Uh huh. With a big ass and squishy thighs, that’s the best combination.”

 

“I’m going to kill him,” Izumi bluntly says, twisting onto his side. “I’ll eat you, Mika.”

 

“Master says you’ve failed every single offensive magic class there ever was, so I kinda doubt it?”

 

“Told you you should have let Cupcake sleep in the bed with us,” Arashi says smugly, curling around Mika from behind. “Clearly, there’s lingering resentment.”

 

“Cupcake has nothing to do with it,” Izumi grumpily says. “And you were being weird about that damned thing.”

 

“I _knew_ that _kara_ loved snogs all along,” Mika hums, snuggling back against Arashi. “That’s why we gotta have hybrids. _Kara_ -snog hybrids.”

 

“ _Amaka_ , I love you, and I’ve definitely gotten really close to Cupcake,” Arashi says gently, “but if you suggest I stick my dick in that spiny thing again, I’m going to stop being able to get hard at all anymore.”

 

“Ruinin’ all my fun,” Mika sniffs, flopping his head back against Arashi’s shoulder. “Fine. Then you gotta make babies with Izumin, so I can have one for real.”

 

“Hey, I have an idea,” Arashi says, falsely bright. “Maybe just for a couple hours, no one here talks about my penis doing something I don’t want it to do. Yeah? How’s that sound? Like going into a woman or an animal? Yeah?”

 

“You’re th’ one that brought up the Izumin thing first,” Mika sulks.

 

“It’s fine, it’s not important right now,” Izumi dismisses, grabbing a pillow over to huddle up around it. “If I take a nap, then I’ll wake up less hungry, anyway.”

 

“He’s trying to starve the little Prince to death,” Arashi says conversationally. “Isn’t that nice? Regicidal, he is.”

 

“Um. Why…?”

 

“I’m not starving him, he can eat me for all I care,” Izumi darkly says. “Even better. Then I definitely won’t get fat.”

 

“Ah. Okay. Nothin’ has changed in five years.”

 

“Except he’s a pregnant woman?”

 

“I mean…I guess that’s kinda different, but not even that unexpected.”

 

“Speak for yourself, the new parts are a definite surprise to me.”

 

“’s not like it’s permanent,” Mika mildly points out. “Right? It’s clearly a shift.”

 

“Arashi, you were a lot nicer about this when you thought Mika was never going to wake up,” Izumi moodily says, rolling over to present them with his back.

 

Arashi rolls his eyes. “Pregnancy hormones,” he says, in a loud whisper. “Plus, I think somehow he’s still mad that Captain Morisawa won’t give it up. High Harbor reminds him.”

 

Mika blinks a few times, wriggling his way further back into Arashi’s arms. “Morisawa? Oh…the _really_ loud one that Kanata chews on. I dunno, I think he’s a slut.”

 

“Don’t say that, you’ll hurt his feelings,” Arashi teases, reaching around Mika to tweak Izumi’s hair. “He’s kinda famous for not giving it up, you know? And so dreamy, always running around leading his men on patrol…Not that I don’t totally respect him as a fellow commander, I’m just saying. Yum.”

 

“He’s not a slut,” comes Izumi’s muffled response down into his pillow. “He’s _particular._ ”

 

“Too noisy, don’t wanna.”

 

“He’s like a furnace,” Izumi moodily continues. “I bet _he’d_ cuddle me and wouldn’t mention how big my ass is. Neither of you know how good he is.”

 

“I always feel like I have to keep up that whole manly act around him, you know?” Arashi says with a sigh, pointedly ignoring Izumi. “Even though I swear he’s doing the same thing, I just don’t know what’s underneath his.”

 

“He’s openly doin’ a pretty fish wizard,” Mika mildly points out. “I don’t think you gotta be too manly around him, _kara_.”

 

“I’m going to go sneak into his barracks and climb on it,” Izumi half-grumbles, half-threatens. “Just like the good old times. I bet he doesn’t care. I bet he’d be _happy._ ”

 

“The good old times where you lost every bet that you could get into his pants?” Arashi teases. “I’m pretty sure those times have continued. _Amaka_ , are you trying to say that sleeping with a fish is the same thing as being ladylike?”

 

“Nah, I’m sayin’ that if you’re worried about actin’ like you like men in High Harbor, you’re wastin’ your time. But there is an elaborate joke there, somehow…”

 

Izumi exhales a grumpy, growly little noise. “You don’t know,” he grumbles. “You don’t know _anything._ ”

 

“Moody,” Arashi says to Mika with a sigh. “Actually, never mind, he’s always been weird about Captain Morisawa. That’s where he lost his crown, you know, the first Unfuckable Man he ever met. That must sting, I guess…Or, I guess now there’s Shu, too?”

 

“Master would,” Mika says, amused. “I told him he should, too. Buuut, probably not when Izumin’s a girl…I think, aesthetically, it’s okay, but like…they’d be kissin’ and Master would be all, oh, yes, this is nice, and his dick wouldn’t even get warm. That kinda thing.”

 

“He’s even a step above me, then,” Arashi says sadly. “Even Shu is more functional around women than you. Embarrassing,” he tells his penis firmly.

 

“It’s okay, at least you can be _around_ women,” Mika reassures him. “Rei gets uncomfortable jus’ bein’ in the _room_ with ‘em, I swear. He can’t talk to them an’ his hands get sweaty.”

 

“I like this, I missed having you to tell us all the embarrassing stories of the most powerful people in the world,” Arashi says fondly. “Izumi, don’t be a brat, Morisawa doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

 

“I got lots of ‘em, I can keep goin’.”

 

“I used to fuck him every single Wednesday I’d come into High Harbor, he knows exactly what he’s missing right now,” Izumi lowly grouses.

 

“Now he’s makin’ up stuff,” Mika sympathetically says. “Real sad.”

 

Arashi tuts, shaking his head slowly as he clicks his tongue. “And silly. Izumi, you already lost that bet, you paid the forfeit. There’s no shame in not being able to roll someone like that, he probably wouldn’t know good sex if it hit him in the face. Mika, back me up, doesn’t Morisawa seem like the kind to do the exact same motion for ten minutes, then have the nerve to ask if it was good for you?”

 

“Either that, or he’s a toootal pillow princess, y’know?” Mika hums. “Flops right over an’ lets his fish do whatever he wants, and ain’t any fun about it. Some military guys are like that, ’s weird.”

 

“You’re both wrong, he’s a better lay than both of you on a good day.”

 

Mika’s mouth falls open, aghast. “ _Wow._ Mean. _Kara_ , he’s so mean, beat him up.”

 

“You have to be nice to someone that’s living in his own fantasy world,” Arashi says sadly. “He’s delusional. Maybe he’s been lying to himself for so long he’s starting to believe it. Mika, _what_ military guys do you know like that? I mean, introduce a lady, you know?”

 

Mika tilts his head back to look at Arashi—well, at least create the _illusion_ of looking. “Most military guys are like that, I think. Look at Izumin.”

 

“Both of you are the worst,” Izumi grouses, abruptly rolling out of bed. “I’m going to find Morisawa, and when I come back, you’ll _know_ that I was in bed with him instead of you two assholes.”

 

“I bet he’s going to sneak into Morisawa’s room and rub himself on all of his shirts. Honestly, it’s kind of pathetic?” Arashi looks at Izumi, a little concerned. “Come on back to bed, dumbass, don’t bother the Captain because you’ve got this weird hunger.”

 

“Nah, let him go, it’ll be funny,” Mika says, amused. “Place another bet, _kara_ , you’ll be even richer.”

 

“I want more wine! Even better wine!”

 

Izumi pauses at the door, then turns around, contemplative. “Fine. I’ll give you my contract with the Shadowlands if I can’t climb into bed with him,” he bluntly says. “And if I can, I want a dozen of your best horses—the ones _you_ think are the best, the ones you keep stashing away in the West.”

 

Arashi’s eyes widen, and he sits up suddenly. “Seriously? With the Shadowbred _and_ the Shadewine? No magic, you can’t hypnotize him!”

 

“I know. Oh, and also,” Izumi mildly adds, wiggling his fingers, “you still have to serve as Captain of the Kingsguard for a whole year at least, or until I find a suitable replacement. You can tell me you were going to do that anyway all you want, but now that Mika’s back, I somehow doubt that.”

 

“I—hey!” Arashi scowls, and folds his arms. “Know what? Fine. Because you can’t do it. I’m so confident, I’ll even add—if you can, _today_ , I’ll pay your eldest daughter’s dowry, too!”

 

“Shadewine ain’t that good,” Mika says skeptically, stretching out over Izumi’s side of the bed, too. “Y’all crazy.”

 

“Done. What would you like as proof?” Izumi asks, eyebrows raising. “I’m not inviting you in when he’s balls deep, he’s not that kind of man.”

 

Arashi thinks, then turns to Mika. “You can make him tell the truth, right? With magic? Even if he’s a wizard?”

 

“Oh, yeah, definitely. That might be kinda fun, actually…”

 

“Fine, a truth-telling spell it is.” Izumi waves, opening the door. “See you later, after I get laid at least three times.”

 

“You heard that, Mika, that’s a commitment! If it’s not three times, it doesn’t count!” Arashi shouts, just before the door closes. “He couldn’t. He won’t. Could he?”

 

“He seems reeeeal confident,” Mika hedges, rolling over to face Arashi. “How much d’you like those horses, _kara?_ ”

 

Arashi hesitates. “I mean…ugh, I didn’t really think about it. This is your fault, you were egging me on!”

 

“ _I_ just wanted y’to get richer,” Mika says with a huff. “Who knows, maybe he’s crazy. And delusional as hell. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

 

“I really hope so,” Arashi says grimly. “Ugh, not least because Izumi is _wasting_ that Shadowlands contract, I could do so much with that route!”

 

“Too much has happened since I was sleepin’,” Mika complains, flopping forward to stuff his face into Arashi’s chest. “’s still too weird that he’s a wizard. An’ a scary one, too, his hourglass is weiiiirder now.”

 

“What’s mine like?” Arashi asks immediately, unrepentantly selfish. “The same as before? Different? Do I _really_ not look any older?”

 

“I don’t think so,” Mika says, and lifts a hand to trail his fingers gingerly along the lines and curves of Arashi’s face again. “I mean, I’m blind as a bat, but I think that makes it easier t’tell that kinda thing. Mmn, your hourglass is th’ same, too. _Kara_ never really changes, it’s good.”

 

“I’m going to live forever for sure,” Arashi murmurs to himself, sort of as a mantra, leaning into Mika’s touch. “What’s Izumi’s like now?”

 

“Really fast,” Mika murmurs, stroking his thumb over Arashi’s cheek. “Like…the sand keeps going up and down on its own, but so fast you can’t even really tell that it’s movin’ sometimes. It’s real weird. Rei’s totally gonna give him a Nightcloak when all’s said an’ done, y’know.”

 

“He’ll look hot in it, at least,” Arashi allows, and curls his arms around Mika again. “I’m not worrying about it. He’s not going to do it. He couldn’t do it before.”

 

“You sure?” Mika says, sort of amused at this point. “He seemed reeeeal convinced he’d done it before.”

 

“He paid the bet forfeit. Why would he do that if he’d gotten it?”

 

“Protectin’ the Captain’s honor. Maybe Izumin really likes him, heh. They seem like oil ’n water, but so does Izumin an’ th’ king, he kinda likes those types, don’t he?”

 

“Pretty thin honor,” Arashi says with a shrug of one shoulder, wrapping his leg around Mika. “If it’s worth just ten horses. Mind you, they’re the ten best horses in the country. He wouldn’t really _take_ my babies, would he?”

 

“He asked for a dozen, which is twelve, an’ he probably would, ‘cause he really likes horses,” Mika says with a helpless shrug, lacing his arms about Arashi’s neck again. “At least you bein’ in the Kingsguard still wouldn’t be so bad, right?”

 

“Wait…it isn’t like, ten? And sometimes they put in some extra?”

 

“No…no, _kara_ , it’s definitely twelve.”

 

“Huh. And…everyone…knows this? I’m guessing from your face that everyone knows this.”

 

“Yeah…yeah. It’s okay. Izumin’s had your back about it for awhile now, I think.”

 

“Aw. Maybe he’ll let me just pay both dowries instead of the horses…no, you know what? It’s not going to happen. I’ve, I’ve got to believe.”

 

“He’s a real pretty lady,” Mika wistfully says. “You’re doomed.”

 

~

 

Finding Captain Morisawa is always very, very easy.

 

The noise level is the first indicator. It’s probably off-putting to a great number of people, but Izumi is unfazed, especially with years of King Leo underneath his belt.

 

And of course, his gross, lizard brain does appreciate that it’s Captain Morisawa with a herd of children, leading them in training maneuvers gentled for children, but still all-too reminiscent of those thinking of heading into any kind of military service in the future. Izumi stands on the sidelines for a moment, arms folded over his chest, huffing out a soft breath before he steps forward. “Captain,” he calls out, beckoning with a wave of his hand. “Do you have a moment?”

 

“One moment!” Chiaki calls merrily, waving a decidedly enthusiastic subordinate over, only giving Izumi a cursory glance. “Tetora, take over for me here. Everyone, you’re looking very strong! Bring your knees up high, think about running for justice! Keep those shoulders high and strong, Koko!”

 

He claps Tetora on the shoulder, walking away as the young man stumbles, then rights himself, the new stars on his chest gleaming in the sunlight. Brushing the sweat out of his eyes, he turns, jogging cheerfully up to Izumi. “Hello! I’m glad to see—“

 

And then he notices, and abruptly falls down onto his rump in surprise. “Y-y-you—“

 

Izumi’s eyebrows arch high, and he leans forward over Chiaki, hair falling forward and over his shoulders. “Yes, hello. At least you recognize me, I swear half the people I know don’t. Are you too busy for me to steal you away?” 

 

“U-um…” Chiaki looks frantically back at the practicing children, but no plausible excuse presents itself, so he climbs slowly to his feet, wringing his hands. “I mean, I—well, if…I suppose, if Milady wants me somewhere? Do you need protection?”

 

Oh, dear. He’s sort of cute around women, that’s dreadful. “Yes, absolutely. I’m starving to death and I’ll die if I don’t have someone to help me.”

 

“A meal! Of course!” With the idea of something he can do to aid the damsel he’s so _certain_ is in distress, Chiaki leaps a bit, as if he’s leaping to his feet, but as he’s already on his feet, he just leaps a few inches in the air. “Let me—I’ll just escort you to the dining halls. Or if you want, I’ll visit the kitchens myself, is there a suite where you could wait?”

 

Izumi calmly reaches out, grabs the front of Chiaki’s deliciously sweaty shirt, and yanks him close, his eyes bright as they hold Chiaki’s gaze. “I don’t mean _that_ kind of meal,” he lowly says. “This is important. Are your quarters empty right now?”

 

Chiaki abruptly turns as brightly red as his favorite shirt, flinching back from Izumi. “A-ah, I couldn’t,” he stammers, eyes darting side to side, as if afraid to rest too long on Izumi’s face. “A lady, unmarried, in my quarters? Perhaps if we had a chaperone, that’s it, I’ll find us a nice meal and a chaperone!”

 

“Chiaki. I will literally die.”

 

“Ehhh?” Chiaki’s eyes bulge, and he pulls gently back, feeling the back of his neck grow very, very hot. “I, well, that is, obviously I wouldn’t want, that’s the last thing I—but with a—with someone like—you’re just so—the thing is—wow, it’s _hot_ today, isn’t it? Ha ha ha!”

 

“How about,” Izumi casually says, releasing him as he leans back, “I meet you in your quarters. I’ll go now, you can show up a few minutes later, and you can relax and stop looking like you’re about to actually overheat.”

 

Chaiki droops, shoulders slumping. “I, ah, it’s just… _women_ , you see, they’re so…yes, yes. Yes. All right. I’ll see you there soon!” And off he runs, clearly towards the kitchen.

 

Izumi rolls his eyes, annoyed that he’s charmed in spite of himself, but here he is, making a characteristic beeline to the barracks, and Chiaki’s quarters in particular.

 

So help him, that brings back memories.

 

Izumi lets himself in, and collapses back onto that little bed, sprawling out. Maybe he won’t actually die if he doesn’t feed, but lizard brains are lizard brains.

 

Nearly half an hour later, there’s a respectful knock on the door, followed by Chiaki opening it. He picks up a tray he’d set on the floor, nodding his head deeply before entering. “Sorry for the wait, Milady. I brought you lunch. Oh, and this is Garta. She’s our chaperone.”

 

A round-faced middle-aged woman bobs a brisk curtsy before entering as well, shutting the door behind herself and setting up a worn wooden stool in the corner, straightening her skirts and aprons over her lap. “Don’t mind me,” she says, giving Izumi a little wave. “Majesty.”

 

Izumi heaves a long-suffering sigh. “You really want poor Garta here to suffer through this?” he deadpans, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “Morisawa, I don’t have time for you being deliberately thick.”

 

That’s a shame, because it’s Chiaki’s favorite tool to use whenever he’s overwhelmed, which is absolutely right now. Despite thinking he’d been prepared for this, after taking all of that time to calm down, he finds himself flushing bright red again. “Garta is the resident chaperone,” he says lamely. “And an accomplished governess.”

 

“And crocheter,” Garta adds, rather self-satisfied. “No worries, Majesty. I’ll make certain the Captain doesn’t get any ideas. He told me all about who you are.”

 

“Did he, now.” A muscle in Izumi’s jaw twitches. _Now_ he’s starting to get actually hungry, and it’s going to make him very cranky, very soon. “He probably omitted that I’m a powerful wizard that needs to feed through sex, specifically, or else I’ll die. Right now. On the spot. Which is why I asked for his company, in case I’m being in any way unclear.”

 

Garta merely chuckles to herself, and pulls out a ball of yarn. “I have to say, that’s a new one for me, dearie. Though I’ve heard women tell me that they’ve got a mad itching that only a lad can scratching, that’s sure. Or that wee wizards are living in her head and cooling her down, and she’s got to be warmed from the inside, or she’ll die. Go on, then. Wizards can’t be women. Try it again and I’ll get the ruler.”

 

“I’m a shapeshifter. Chiaki,” Izumi lowly, flatly says, holding his gaze, “ask her to leave.”

 

Chiaki feels himself sweat so much he gets a bit lightheaded. “Ah…you see, the thing is…it’s not decent. Unless you want to get married? But of course, I told her you’re the King’s intended, so…”

 

“I can’t get pregnant, if that’s what you’re worried about. This is a temporary body.”

 

“You might find that you’ll have a better time if you change the subject,” Garta suggests, whipping up some complicated magic with a hook and her yarn. “Perhaps jousting? The season is looking quite exciting.”

 

“Lord Windser does look like he’s going to take the Coastal title,” Chiaki agrees numbly, looking to Izumi in pained desperation.

 

Izumi gives into a last resort, and bursts into tears.

 

“I c-can’t believe you want me to _die._ ” It’s surprisingly easy to start up waterworks like this. Maybe Arashi’s right about pregnancy hormones, but Chiaki doesn’t need to know that.

 

“Right,” Chiaki says firmly, jumping up, full of purpose as he strides to the bed, ignoring Garta’s squawk as he lifts Izumi, tossing him over his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you get to the king in record time.”

 

Izumi can work with this. “My hero,” he sniffs, wriggling in Chiaki’s hold to more comfortably flop there, and reach a hand down to grab Chiaki’s ass—for balance, of course. “M-my horse is in the stables, s-so we should go now, or else I…I might…”

 

“You have that really fast horse, right?” Chiaki’s stride is bounding, but still smooth as he breaks into an easy run. “The demon one? I’ll try not to get bitten!”

 

“Mmhm, that’s the one.” Izumi tries not to grumble about being jostled, because at least Chiaki’s fast, and the stables are quite empty this time of day. He sniffles, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, and pats at Chiaki’s back as he starts to smell the familiar scent of horses. “Put me down, I can walk.”

 

“We’re hurrying,” Chiaki reminds him, shifting a bit when he’s certain his back is coming into contact with breast-like areas. “How did you get so hungry, my friend? The king will surely be worried. I’m worried.”

 

Izumi growls, kicking lightly. “Put me _down_ , your shoulder’s bonier than it looks and it’s right on my stomach,” he grouses. “It’s the king’s fault I’m so hungry. Please tell me I didn’t miscalculate, you _do_ like women, don’t you?”

 

Once they reach the stables, Chiaki sets Izumi down on his feet, looking slightly wounded. “I love women,” he says frankly. “They’re some of my best friends. But you can’t think I’d take advantage of one, can you?”

 

Izumi pauses, staring up at him for a moment before grabbing Chiaki’s hand in a deathgrip, then drags him forcibly into the first, empty stall he sets eyes upon.

 

He yanks the stall door shut, throws himself back against it, and drags Chiaki forward and against him, yanking that hand up directly to one of his breasts. “Does it _look_ like I’m unwilling?” he demands, his face flushing. “I’m in a woman’s body, but I’m not a woman. I’m still Izumi. Fuck me, damn it.”

 

Chiaki sucks in a harsh, sudden breath, the color draining from his face, though his hand feels frozen, as if he can’t possibly pull away now. He breathes in deep, trying hard not to twitch, as if he’ll become complicit if he does. “It…that’s not what I meant,” he whispers, looking tortured. “I—look, you know I love you, right?”

 

“Yes.” Izumi’s brow furrows in frustration. “So why don’t you want to do this? I told you, this isn’t a permanent body—do you not like women? It’s fine, if you don’t; if that’s the case, I’ll stop asking.”

 

“It’s because you’re acting kind of crazy,” Chiaki says gently, stepping close, cupping Izumi’s face. “You’re making me worry about you. And I…well, women are different. You can tell me it’s the same all you want, but women _should_ be prized and protected, I believe that!”

 

“I _am_ kind of crazy right now, because I’m _hungry_ ,” Izumi growls, twitching a bit with the urge to grab him and start _chewing_ on Chiaki’s neck. “If you want me to feel prized and protected, then you should take care of me like you used to. Or did you forget about all of that, too?”

 

Chiaki’s lip trembles. “I—no, of course not?” _Madara was right, I can’t protect anyone, I’m still not good enough, I’m letting everyone down._

 

“Then—then _why?_ ” Izumi’s eyes sting again, for real this time, and he sniffs, flopping back against the rough wood behind him. “I missed you. T-there’s not that many people that make me feel as good as you do, you know, so I wanted…”

 

“Um…can I ask a question, really quick?” Chiaki asks, a little desperate. “Why…why are you a woman? I—look, I don’t think it’s that bad to treat women differently than men!”

 

Izumi sniffs again. “If I tell you, you can’t tell _anyone._ ”

 

“I can keep a secret,” Chiaki says firmly. “But if it’s a matter of life and death, don’t tell me. I’ll just trust that there’s a good reason. I don’t want to make you break a promise just because I’m curious.”

 

“…It’s kind of life and death,” Izumi quietly says, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. “But…if it makes you feel better, just know you’re probably saving the future king of the country if you take care of _me_.”

 

Morality twists in Chiaki’s gut, as the instinct to protect and respect women wrestles with the conviction that helping his friend is something he _must_ do. But if it really is as Izumi says, then there really is no choice. Chiaki breathes in, then out, and squeezes Izumi’s hands. “Thank you for always being honest with me,” he says gently. “If I can help you, you’ve got all of me that I have to give.”

 

“I’m just amazed you’re so…mm, particular about this?” Izumi admits, cracking a faint smile as he tugs on Chiaki’s hands, pulling him closer as he tries to relax again. “Isn’t Kanata a shapeshifter?”

 

“Well, yes,” Chiaki admits. “But it’s different. We’re…it’s forever, with him.” His voice is soft, fond, and wistful, even as his hands curl around Izumi’s. “So when he has to turn into a lady fish and we mate, it’s to create life, you know? It’s so beautiful.”

 

 _Except wizards are sterile—well, normal wizards_ , Izumi wants to point out, but hell, he doesn’t know if Kanata’s as strange and different as he is in that regard. “This is going to help _sustain_ life, so isn’t that good, too?” Izumi archly says, squeezing Chiaki’s hands. “I meant it, you know. Not many people make me feel like you do.”

 

“I guess it is a bit discriminatory,” Chiaki admits, feeling ashamed, “but I can’t imagine being…casual, perhaps, or friendly with women, in an intimate way. Even repopulating the special Wavebred part of the ocean seemed pretty intense, moreso than anything that you and I have ever…not that that’s more important, of course,” he says hastily.

 

“I’m _different_ , though,” Izumi complains, hopping up onto his tiptoes to sling his arms about Chiaki’s neck. “I’m not really a woman, this is just a shift, and—and like I said, there’s no repopulation that’s going to happen. It can’t. I’m hungry, specifically for you.”

 

“For—for me?” Chiaki asks, flustered as if the idea that Izumi could want him, even after years of their former relationship. “Ah…you’ve lived without me for years, what’s changed?”

 

“I didn’t live without you willingly,” Izumi grouses, flexing his fingers in gently. “Call it a craving, maybe, but it’s one I have almost all the time, so—so maybe you’re special or something, I don’t know.”

 

The things Chiaki would say are traitorous, to himself, to his love with Kanata, to his duties, so he doesn’t say them. Instead, he lets his hands come up to rest on Izumi’s waist, squeezing gently. “How can I help?” he asks simply, and feels his insides flutter with nerves.

 

Izumi sucks in a soft breath, immediately, completely distracted by the way Chiaki’s hands feel on his waist. A part of him had wanted to take pity, and simply say _let’s just curl up together for awhile_ , but now, that’s almost certainly out of the question. “I need you,” he blurts out instead, his cheeks hot when he looks up, meeting Chiaki’s gaze. “I…I miss the way you feel inside me.”

 

The words are an odd, intimate echo of something Chiaki himself had said to Kanata the last time they’d seen each other, almost three years earlier, the last time Chiaki had felt anyone so close, and he tries to keep his chin firm as he leans in, giving Izumi a soft kiss on the forehead. “It would be all over the city if I spent time with a lady alone in my chambers,” he says quietly. “Ride out with me? I know a secret place, we can…I mean, if you’re not busy, we could stay there all night.”

 

Izumi nods, perhaps too quickly, too eagerly, but he can’t take it back now. “I should probably be far more discreet, myself,” he admits, his expression shifting to something more wry. “I guess I didn’t expect such a…visceral reaction, to seeing you again. Sorry for acting so crazy.”

 

“I understand,” Chiaki says without hesitation, and wraps an arm around Izumi’s shoulders, leading him to Honor’s stall, next to the one where sweet old Valor stares rheumily at his oat bucket. “I don’t have a sidesaddle, but you’re still you, right? This isn’t someone else’s body?”

 

“It’s still me; riding side-saddle is a pain, there’s a reason why I still dress like a man,” Izumi sniffs. “I know, the Capital would be scandalized. Too bad.”

 

“I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t know what hit them with you in general,” Chiaki says cheerfully, and leads Honor out of her stall, saddling her with the ease of long practice. “I wish I’d known you were coming, and that you were like this now. I’d have put together something nice, like a picnic.”

 

“You’re very thoughtful, but that really isn’t necessary.” Izumi rubs a hand up the horse’s head, scratching gently with his nails. “I would’ve warned you, but it was sort of an impulsive trip. Shu needed my help.”

 

Chiaki takes the lead, clicking his tongue to lead Honor out of the stable. “I hope you won’t be in any trouble for playing hooky today. Well, I’m lucky enough to be here when you showed up,” he says. “Honor can carry two, and you’re light, but if you’d rather ride alone, Valor’s still a good old boy. Or I can run alongside, that’ll do me good in this fresh air, haha!”

 

“Get up there and pull me up behind you. I want to shove my face in your hair for awhile.”

 

Chaiki obeys, lifting Izumi easily with one hand to swing up behind him. “Don’t blame me if I get nervous,” he says, ears flushing red. “I can’t remember the last time I kissed a woman. Well, that’s not quite right. I remember. But it was a long time ago.”

 

“I think it’s very charming,” Izumi bluntly tells him, sliding his arms around Chiaki’s waist and doing as he’d promised, face buried firmly into the nape of Chiaki’s neck. “No one knows what to do with me when I’m like this.”

 

“I’m not very good at knowing what to do with you most of the time,” Chiaki says, grinning as he squeezes his legs, urging Honor into an easy canter after a warm-up walk. “Mm, I should probably ask Kanata if this is all right, don’t you think? He never really gave me permission for this kind of thing.”

 

“You can ask him,” Izumi says with a little shrug. “But he never minded us rolling around before. The opposite, actually.”

 

Chiaki gives him a little smile that tries valiantly not to be sad. “He’s…not feeling too well, right now. I wouldn’t want to bother him, you know? He’s been dealing with all that terrible magic—you know, he deals with a lot more than anyone thinks, more even than the Emperor.”

 

“Mmn? How so?” Izumi props his chin up onto Chiaki’s shoulder, satisfied with his sniffing for the time being. “I don’t know him very well—“ _Outside of the times he ordered me to take care of you, and when he literally ate some of my magic, what the hell._ “—so it’s kind of hard for me to gauge what’s going on in his head sometimes.”

 

“You know how Rei watches over most of the country, and makes certain that we don’t get magically invaded?”

 

“More or less, yeah.”

 

“That’s what Kanata does. But for the entire ocean.” Chiaki’s voice sings with pride, and he puffs out his chest. “That includes the whole Eastern coastline, you know. So any time someone’s tried to invade with ships, he’s taken care of that, as well. There’s a lot more than you’d expect trying to kill us humans all the time!”

 

“That’s a lot of work,” Izumi agrees, absently plucking at the bottom hem of Chiaki’s shirt as his fingers lace around the front of his stomach. “If there’s something I can do to make him feel better, I’ll do it, when we head back. He’s helped me before, it’s the least I can do.”

 

Chiaki turns his face around, relief echoing through his expression. “Thanks. That’s really helpful. You’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever known, you know? If there’s anyone selfless and kind left in this world, it’s you.”

 

“That’s really not true at all,” Izumi mutters, his face flushing as he gives Chiaki’s hip a pinch. “I’m selfish and greedy and single-minded. Flatter me about my beauty, not my personality.”

 

It’s an old argument between them, and one that makes Chiaki grin. “Some things never change, eh? If it helps, you’re very beautiful as a woman. You’re very beautiful as a man, too. I’m just glad you’re here, I missed you!”

 

“That’s acceptable flattery,” Izumi settles upon, idly snaking a hand up and underneath Chiaki’s shirt to get at one of his nipples. “I missed you, too. How long until I get to eat you?”

 

Chiaki squeaks, and accidentally tugs Honor’s reins, making her snort at him in annoyance. “A-ah, if you do that, I’ll never get to where we’re going,” he breathes, eyes bright. “It’s just around that next bend. Trust me, it’s incredible.”

 

“Do what?” Izumi innocently asks, plucking at that nipple again. “I forgot you made that squeaky sound.”

 

“Nnnnh!” A muscle in Chiaki’s jaw twitches, and he blinks hard, trying to clear his head. “I—listen, it’s just—“ His body is already so warm, and Izumi’s hands are so _precise_ , his cock already aches with every step Honor takes. He tries to say something else, but Izumi’s always known, somehow, exactly how to touch him, exactly how to unravel him in a way that only Kanata ever has.

 

“I guess I _should_ behave, trying to do it on a horse is basically impossible,” Izumi laments, sliding his hand down to curl around the inside of Chiaki’s thigh instead. “And I wouldn’t want you to lead us to a swift death down a cliff or something…”

 

“We _are_ going up to a cliff,” Chiaki says, still flushed, urging Honor faster. It isn’t long before they crest a hill, one that opens up to a stark cliff overlooking the ocean. “Come with me,” he urges, tying Honor to a tree with a long lead as he slides off her back. “There’s a secret path.”

 

Izumi slides off Honor’s back to the ground, pushing his hair out of his face as he looks around. “I’ve never been out here,” he admits. “This really is private. I can’t believe Captain Morisawa knows all the best, most secret places to go and tumble pretty ladies…”

 

“I-Izumi! That’s not—that’s not what this—“

 

Chiaki stammers, flustered, as he takes Izumi’s hand, bowing too-formally over it, suddenly nervous again now that they’re face to face. He leads him over to the edge of the cliff, and grabs hold of the huge tree growing there, pausing only to ask, “You aren’t afraid of heights, are you?”

 

“…Only if we’re literally going to fuck on the edge of the cliff,” Izumi says warily, grabbing firmly to Chiaki’s hand. “We aren’t, are we? Listen, I know you fancy yourself superhuman, but there’s a difference between a military commander and something _magical_ —“

 

“Ha ha! My burning heart of love would keep you safe!” And with that, Chiaki tugs Izumi hard off the edge of the cliff before he can tense up, swinging down by a tree branch, swinging them both into a hidden cave under the cliff, accessible only by this stupid, dangerous, ill-advised stunt.

 

He beams at Izumi, holding him steady. The ledge of the cave sticks out farther than the cliff, but only just barely. Inside the shallow cave are a few folded blankets, several jars of water, a long rope, first aid supplies, and several other jars of snacks. “Surprise!”

 

Izumi, heart still beating out of his chest, offers little more than a shriek, and promptly slaps Chiaki’s chest, once, then twice, scowling up at him. “Warn someone before you decide to be that ridiculous!” he growls, smacking him again. “Yes, it was very dashing, and yes, this is fairly interesting, but I’m still going to scold you!”

 

Chiaki laughs heartily, ignoring the slaps to his chest with good humor. “Sorry to scare you! But isn’t this fantastic? Very private. We can stay here as long as we want, I think I’m the only person who knows it’s here. Well, I was. Now you do, too. It’s…it’s my most precious place.”

 

Izumi huffs, gives Chiaki’s chest one last slap, then looks around properly now that his heart isn’t pounding quite as hard. He mulls over a few things to say, then decides against it, settling instead on stretching up onto tiptoe, grabbing Chiaki by the collar, and kissing him soundly. That should make his opinions clear enough.

 

Chiaki relaxes slightly. There hadn’t really been much of a doubt in his mind that Izumi still wants him, but now he focuses on kissing Izumi slowly, letting his hands come up to rest on Izumi’s lower back, tugging him slowly close. “You feel wonderful,” he says softly, eyes lidded.

 

“So touch me all over,” Izumi murmurs, stealing another kiss as he loops his arms around Chiaki’s neck, pleased (in spite of himself) that he’s quite short next to Chiaki now, too. That’s good, for some reason. “You smell nice, it’s distracting…”

 

“Please don’t rush me,” Chiaki says, cupping Izumi’s face in his hands. “I want to take my time. Please?”

 

“That’s fine, but…you _have_ to touch me,” Izumi groans, sagging a bit into Chiaki’s touch. He tries not to tremble and fails, his fingers curling into Chiaki’s shoulders. “Please. I missed this, I missed _you_ …”

 

“I am touching you, I think? Right?” Izumi sounds so sure of it, Chiaki has to wonder if he’s the insane one. Carefully, he strokes his thumbs up and down Izumi’s waist, turning his head to kiss Izumi’s neck, pressing little butterfly kisses up and down the smooth skin there.

 

“Yes, but _more_ ,” Izumi bossily grumbles, even as he tips his head to the side, dropping one hand to push his own hair out of the way with a little shiver. He reaches back on his own, a finger catching the laces of his corset, and swiftly yanking them free to loosen the whole thing, leaving him to exhale a fast, hitching breath.

 

Chiaki nearly asks if it really _isn’t_ fine, then, if he takes his time, but he doesn’t really have the energy to protest, not when all of it is spent on the utter awareness of how his hands slide around without his permission, gently sliding up to cup and lift Izumi’s pert breasts. “Gods,” he whispers. “I feel like I should fall to my knees.”

 

Izumi’s breath hiccups, his eyes fluttering shut as he bites his lip, rocking on his heels a bit and trying not to shove himself into Chiaki’s touch like a damned harlot. Easier said than done, but Chiaki wants slow, so maybe if he holds back, just a little… “That limits the way that you’re touching me, so not allowed,” he manages.

 

“You’re beautiful.” The words fall from Chiaki’s lips like breaths, grateful and reverent, and he goes back to kissing Izumi’s neck, one hand sliding slowly down to cup the curve of his ass, squeezing firmly as his other hand curls, brushing his thumb over one swelling nipple. “I’m so lucky to be here with you.”

 

Izumi whimpers, his nails sinking into Chiaki’s shoulders, clinging to him as he arches forward, pressing himself fully against Chiaki’s body when he can no longer help himself. His nipples throb, his legs feel weak, and the ache between them makes his knees wobble. “You—really have nothing to worry about with women, you know,” he groans, butting his head into Chiaki’s chest. One of his hands slide down, fingers hooking gingerly into the front of Chiaki’s pants. “Your hands feel so nice…”

 

“I’m not worried about women,” Chiaki protests, pulling back from where he’d been buried in Izumi’s neck. “I love women. I don’t just make love to anyone, you know!”

 

Izumi growls, and promptly yanks at Chiaki’s laces, loosening them in short order. “But I’m special, and so you’re going to spoil me, right?” he archly presses.

 

“Aha, you’ve always been special, I—you’re so fast at that, I don’t remember—ah, your hands are so talented!” Chiaki’s laughter spikes, a little nervously once again, though he doesn’t pull away this time. Izumi seems more genuine now, less frantic, less…well, more like Izumi. Finally, he tugs Izumi down to the piled blankets, kissing Izumi again, laying him out beneath him. “You’re wonderful, and special,” he says firmly. “But you might need to tell me how to spoil you.”

 

Izumi fairly purrs as he flops down into the blankets, obviously quite happy with the development of Chiaki pressed against him, every warm centimeter of him making some of the tension in his own body dissipate. “Let’s start with getting rid of clothes,” he murmurs, leaning up to suck on the side of Chiaki’s neck. “Mnn, then…mouths are nice, but dicks are always better. Or if you want to play with me first, fingers are good, too. I can go all night, you know that.”

 

Chiaki pauses in kissing just long enough to strip off his shirt, tossing it back over his shoulder, his gaze soft. “I think maybe we should stick to hands and mouths, right?” he suggests. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it good. But safety comes first.”

 

“I already told you,” Izumi sighs, running his fingertips down Chiaki’s chest, and lightly tweaking one of his nipples. “I can’t get pregnant.”

 

“Heh.” Chiaki grins, and bites his lip, grabbing Izumi’s waist to drag him close, rolling over until his waist is on top of Izumi’s, weighting him down. “That’s what Kanata thought. Let’s be safe all the same, hmm? Or, if you want…the one we’ve used before is still there, isn’t it?”

 

“Unless you’ve got a magical dick,” Izumi huffily says, squirming a little because he can, not because he wants to actually get away, “it’s not going to happen. I’m—“ Damn it. He’s just not going to get what he wants unless he tells the truth, is he? Izumi heaves a sigh, his head rolling back. “I’m already pregnant. It’s not going to happen _again_.”

 

Chiaki’s eyes widen, and he sits up on his knees, looking down at Izumi’s waist. “Really? Ahhh, congratulations! I’m so happy for you!”

 

“Thanks. But if you don’t fuck me now that you know that, I’m going to _actually_ cry and not stop.”

 

Chiaki cocks his head to the side, before stretching out again on top of Izumi. “Why would I do that? It’s not like it would poke the little guy in the head or something.”

 

Izumi heaves an enormous sigh of relief, and throws both arms and legs around Chiaki in an enthusiastic, warm cling. “Thank you for having a brain,” he bemoans. “And for being handsome, and warm like a furnace, and very, very attractive—gods, you’re really perfect, no wonder I have Morisawa _cravings._ ”

 

Chiaki laughs, a familiar, warm, _loud_ sound that washes over the cave like the distant sound of crashing waves as he divests of Izumi’s leggings. He lifts one of Izumi’s legs, pressing kisses to the thigh, and squirms down to press kisses even lower. “I’m always here. Make sure you have your fill this time, I’d love for you to stay until morning.”

 

And then he dips his head down, pressing a kiss to the soft silver curls he finds, and lower, exploring and discovering with lips and tongue all at once.

 

“But you’re not always where _I_ am, that’s the proooblem—“ Izumi trails off with a breathy gasp, his hands immediately readjusting their grasp to bury themselves into Chiaki’s hair with a twitchy little shiver running down his spine. “E-even your mouth…is so fucking warm, ah, fuck…”

 

If Chiaki had the breath to speak, and the attention to pay, he’d say something about good clean living, early morning jogs, and a passion for justice. Instead, he moans softly, eyes closed as he goes where Izumi steers him, flicking his tongue up and down, dipping it briefly inside that low hole, then dragging it up the slit to circle that firm little button. His hands splay on Izumi’s thighs, squeezing gently as he breathes through his nose, only pausing to whisper, “Just move me, if you need to. Otherwise I’m…ah, busy…”

 

When Ritsu had done this, it had felt very much like he was being eaten alive. When Chiaki does it… _thorough_ is the only thing that comes to mind, and Izumi gives up on anything except sagging down into the blankets, dropping a trembling hand to one of his own breasts where he thumbs and tugs on an achingly hard nipple. “N-no, just…nhh…keep going, please…”

 

Chiaki’s always been good with his mouth. This is no exception. And, well, just like with a mouth on his dick, Izumi’s never thought it was anything _particularly_ special until Chiaki’s mouth was the one on him. “Fuck,” he groans, head falling back as his hips arch up, uncaring that cursing like this is entirely unladylike. To hell with anything that isn’t _this_ , actually.

 

It may have been a while since Chiaki has done something like this, but perhaps it’s like riding a horse, and one really never does forget. At least he hasn’t lost his touch, nor his hunger, spending all of it on licking and sucking, one hand working close to slide a pair of fingers in deep once Izumi’s taste is thick on his tongue.

 

Izumi arches with a gasp, the breathy sound quickly turning to a rasping moan as he reflexively clenches down onto those fingers and tugs at Chiaki’s hair, swiftly dragging that hot, slick mouth directly up to his clit. It scarcely takes one, two firm licks of that wet tongue before Izumi dissolves with a breathless, whimpering sound, his legs shaking all the way down to his toes, which curl so tightly that he can feel the tension from it all the way up into his calves. “G-good, t-that’s good, ah—f-fuck—softer, please, fuck, fuck, _fuck_ …”

 

Chiaki pauses, looking up, the lower half of his face shiny as he grins. “I can keep going,” he offers, curling his fingers slowly, searching out every sweet little textured spot inside of Izumi’s body. “You’re so warm inside, I love it.”

 

Izumi groans again, low and rumbling and overstimulated as he squeezes down around those fingers, feeling himself twitch and tremble anew. “Too much,” he breathes, his eyes fluttering. “You have such a nice mouth, though…nhh…Chiaki, just keep doing that, it feels like you’re petting me from the inside out…”

 

“I bet you’re as pretty inside as you are outside,” Chiaki says with a smile, resting his cheek against one creamy thigh, slowly working his fingers in and out. “It’s nice to feel you like this, it really is. Which do you prefer, when you’ve got a man inside? This hole, or the other? I’ve always wondered how it could possibly feel better as a woman, but you could actually know for sure!”

 

“A-ahhh…..t…this hole, right now, that’s what’s really good,” Izumi dazedly says, his head rolling back. His hands flop down to the blankets as well, uselessly curling there as he rocks his hips down slowly, exhaling a long, satisfied sigh. “But I want to try someone in each one…m-maybe I can reel that paladin of Rei’s in for a ride, that sounds fun, too…”

 

Chiaki’s cock jumps at that idea, and he doesn’t bother to hide it. “He’s a very good person,” he says, as demurely as he can manage, trying not to give away too much from the look on his face, shifting up to reach Izumi’s cheeks with a kiss. “I’m sure he would take care of you.”

 

Izumi licks his lips, his eyes lidded as he slings an arm around Chiaki’s neck, not letting him move away. “ _You_ think he’s sexy,” he lowly accuses, amused as his other hand snakes down, grabbing for the bulge of Chiaki’s cock. “I bet he would. I’ll ask him, while I’m still here.”

 

“You should,” Chiaki says, eyes alight, rubbing his cock against Izumi’s hand, feeling the tip already dripping, leaving a slick spot on his hand. “He’s a good size, too. And quite, mm, skilled. Perhaps p-practiced is a better word…”

 

“I will. Later.” Izumi shivers, biting at his lower lip as he runs his thumb deliberately over the tip of Chiaki’s cock, feeling it drip steadily, and almost panting from how _hot_ it is in his grasp. “But you…ahh…you first. In me, please, it aches when I’m empty…”

 

Chiaki doesn’t even bother to kick his pants the whole way off, just shoves them down to his knees and crawls forward, rubbing the head against Izumi’s hole, still damp from his mouth. He gives Izumi a lopsided smile, bracing one hand on the ground next to his tumbling curls, using the other to guide himself in. “I don’t want you to hurt,” he says gently, and pushes in with a noise that sounds like a hiccup caught a gasp, then tripped over a muttered, “ _Shit_.”

 

Izumi’s voice breaks on a hiccuping little sigh, his thighs automatically squeezing about Chiaki’s waist as he feels that thick, _perfect_ cock sink deep inside of him. “Oh,” he breathes, a hand mindlessly pawing down Chiaki’s back. “That’s…that’s good, that’s so good…it’s…it’s been a little while, so I…mmnn…fuuck, you fit in me…so nicely…”

 

Chiaki sucks in a deep breath, holding still for a moment until he feels his heart rate even out, trying not to come too quickly. “You’re so good,” he murmurs, burying his face in Izumi’s neck, bracing his knees between Izumi’s spread thighs, picking up a firm, steady rhythm, driving deep into Izumi, letting the head drag through him forward and back, a sweet rhythm that feels incredible to him. “I really hope this feels good,” he groans, “because it feels better than heaven to me.”

 

Izumi’s eyes glaze as he just melts down underneath Chiaki, the occasional arch of his back and hips to meet that delicious, _aching_ slide of Chiaki’s cock into him as much as he can muster when it feels so good that his eyes start to cross. “R…really…really good,” he mumbles, breath hiccuping when Chiaki’s mouth brushes over the arc of his throat, prompting his head to loll back further. “It’s fine…if you need to come fast, we can do it again, I promise, ah, gods, fuck, you’re in so deep…”

 

“You’re perfect inside.” Chiaki’s mind spirals wildly, imagining having this every night, imagining Izumi snuggled up against one side and Kanata on the other, imagining being buried inside something this sweet every day. He doesn’t have to imagine, not most of it. He can just feel, grinding his cock in farther and harder, mouth falling open, a little desperate with every buck of his hips. “You—you’re so—just like—you’re _perfect_ —“

 

Talking is useless. Izumi simply grabs at Chiaki’s back, nails raking across his skin as he arches into each thrust before giving up and sagging back, content to just let himself be fucked so thoroughly that it takes his breath away. One hand drops to one of his own breasts, squeezing, pinching one of his own nipples as a low, hungry whine wells up in the back of his throat. “Come in me,” he groans helplessly, his face hot as the words roll off of his tongue. “I w…want… _need_ to feel it, please…”

 

It probably says something about Chiaki that it just sounds _dirty_ coming from a woman’s mouth. Is that chivalry? Chauvenism? Just perversion? He isn’t sure, and just now doesn’t care. All his body cares about is that the words drag it out of him, forcing him over the pinnacle of desire, ragging a climax from him that feels raw and heady all at once, leaving him gasping. All his mind cares about is nothing at all.

 

That hot, slick rush inside of him makes Izumi squirm, biting his lip to keep back a few higher-pitched, overstimulated noises, no matter that it’s just the two of them and Chiaki’s certainly not going to tease him. _Still_ —it makes him shudder and clench, curling his nails into Chiaki’s back as his chest heaves. “Good,” he breathes, his eyes fluttering shut. “You’re so…so _good._ Ah, fuck, it’s been awhile, huh…”

 

“Too long.” The words are soft, softer than anyone who knows Captain Morisawa would think him capable of being, and he nuzzles against Izumi’s hair gently. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? You’re smaller than usual.”

 

“Still indestructible, though,” Izumi dreamily says, melting down into the blankets as a sweaty, temporarily sated mess. “You have to be the most _thorough_ fuck in the world, you know that?”

 

Chiaki beams. “That sounds like a compliment. Thank you.” Unlike nearly everyone else Izumi’s slept with, he doesn’t say anything about how Izumi _would know_.

 

Chiaki’s bonded to a wizard. He might understand what Izumi says next—maybe. “You know how I feed through things like this?” Izumi says, reaching up to run his fingers through the mess of Chiaki’s hair. “With most people, it dries up—their energy does, I mean—after one tumble. I can keep rolling around with you for days and it doesn’t change. You really are something special, heh.”

 

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Chiaki says with a shrug. “Kanata’s said things like that before as well. But I think it’s just good clean living, and maybe a bit of trained stamina.”

 

“Uh huh. You’re definitely especially delicious, there’s no way around it.”

 

That causes a little bit of preening, with a bashful grin to match. “I’ll just say I have especially good taste. How’s that?”

 

“You’re doing that thing again. Let me compliment you, I don’t give that many of them out to begin with.”

 

Clearly torn between wanting to be demure and wanting to give Izumi what he wants, Chiaki settles on a firm nod. “All right. You’ve won. Thank you. I’ll just say thank you! And I hope you get plenty of energy from me.”

 

“Good boy.” Izumi pushes himself up onto his elbows, stealing a kiss from Chiaki’s mouth. “Now—let’s get back to the fun stuff, shall we? I’m eating for two, after all.”

 


	19. Chapter 19

 

_“Don’t worry, my love. We’ll do it together in the morning.”_

 

_“Master, I ain’t lettin’ ya do it yerself. Soon as it gets light, we’ll go down.”_

 

They’re both very sweet. Shu loves them both dearly, passionately. Both of them would die for him. Both of them are powerful, most likely more powerful than he is.

 

And Shu loves them both, as much as a man like him can love anything and anyone. So he wakes up just past midnight, extricates himself from between Rei and Mika in the big comfortable bed, and gently soothes them both farther into sleep. Then he shrugs on his Nightcloak, and strides out onto the beach. It’s his own design. Feeling it around his shoulders, swirling around his ankles, gives him strength, gives him pride. His shoulders set back, and his chin lifts, chest puffing out. These are his shores, now. This is his country, and _his_ precious loves sleeping inside. “And you will not touch them,” he whispers to the Sorrow’s Gate, gathering his power to trail behind him like a cloak, more rippling behind him with every step.

 

The Gate roils, sensing his presence. Shu ignores it, kneeling at the edge of the ocean, brushing it with his fingers. “Kanata, my friend,” he whispers, sending out a tendril of his soul, now clean and whole again, to brush against Kanata’s mind. “Lend me passage.”

 

He asks, and is granted. The waves swirl around his feet, bearing him towards the Gate, which snarls at him, gnashing like enormous teeth. Shu picks up speed, leaning into the wind, magic gathering at his hands, determination flashing in his eyes.

 

He’d heard it in their voices, Mika and Rei. He’d heard the meaning behind their tone. He could see them saying without words that he’d been a great wizard, _once_ , but that was before, that he was powerful and dangerous, _once_ , that he was talented, in a _theoretical_ way.

 

Soft pink hair tears free of its tie, whipping in the wind behind him as he shoots forward, headed for the dread maw of the Sorrow’s Gate. He can feel its power, pulsing thick and sickly, the stench of it enough to chew up a hundred wizards without leaving a greasy smear behind. Shu licks his lips, then leaps for the void, without the smallest grain of regret.

 

Hours later, with the sun just starting to come up, Shu staggers onto the beach, then carefully sets his spine straight, drawing himself up despite a weariness as strong as any he’s ever felt. Somehow, he manages to walk back to the manor, tall and proud, burning from the sense of accomplishment that comes with making the Sorrow’s Gate yield to him. His magic covering Mika and Rei is long evaporated, gone when he’d summoned every bit of magic he’d ever touched to fight the Gate, but he’s made it back nearly by dawn, shutting the door to the room behind him, then sitting on the edge of the bed, clearing his throat. “Hello, boys. I’m back.”

 

With the sun climbing in the sky, Mika is quicker to wake—though not by much, when he’s groggy and blind. There’s a scent in the air that makes him stir, however; the lingering smell of death that he’s all-too acquainted with, and that makes him bolt upright in bed, blinking a few times, and then abruptly lurches forward to grab at Shu, his hands closing against his cheeks. “Master—Master, you…”

 

Rei stirs with a reflexive grumble, peering blearily through the flop of his hair for a moment before abruptly sitting up, attention sharply swiveling to Shu. “You _didn’t._ ”

 

Shu preens mentally, tossing his hair back over his shoulders. The edges are rather singed, but he’d wanted to cut it in any case. “If you still want to help, let Kanata know that a few of his friends have resurfaced. It looks like they managed to cling to life until I could get them out, but they’ll need medical attention.”

 

Mika hesitates, biting at his lip before he releases Shu and slithers out of bed. “I’m gonna find him,” he mutters, shrugging on his cloak in fumbling haste. “And Izumin, too, maybe. Be right back!”

 

He darts out of the room with surprising accuracy for someone that’s supposedly mostly blind, leaving Shu and Rei alone, and Rei to rake his hands back through his hair, exhaling a long, hard breath. “I can’t decide,” he finally says, “to praise you, or to scold you. Both, then. You’re so, so stupid.”

 

“And yet, dramatically intelligent and talented.” Shu smiles wanly, resting his head back against Rei’s lovely hands. “Just pet me. No one died. I’m not even hurt. Tired, though. I could even eat things.”

 

“You’re stupid, but brilliant, and so, _so_ strong.” Rei drags him closer, pressing his lips to the top of Shu’s head as he breathes in deep, shutting his eyes. “You horrific brat. Do you _enjoy_ giving me heart attacks?”

 

“I enjoy being trusted to solve the problems I volunteer to solve,” Shu says, lips pressed together as he leans back, eyes lidding. “You shouldn’t have asked me to do it if you didn’t think I could.”

 

“I _knew_ you could do it, you ass. Why do you think I gave it to you in the first place? That doesn’t exclude me from nearly having a heart attack after learning that you actually _did it._ ” Rei gives him the gentlest of shakes before dragging him close again. “You’re _certain_ you’re all right? The previous Emperor singed his accursed soul closing one of those things before.”

 

“I’m better than he is. Don’t forget again.”

 

“I didn’t, I didn’t, I only…” Rei trails off, leaning back, his expression uncharacteristically stressed. “You were only _just_ healed. The burden of those kinds of spells—I was worried. I’m allowed to worry about you, no matter how much I believe in you.”

 

“Worry about me before I do the impossible thing,” Shu orders, only slightly annoyed, brushing the singed ends of hair back from his face. “After, it just seems rather performative. I was hoping for impressed.”

 

“Now I’m worried you’re damaged in some way, which simply won’t do—of _course_ I’m impressed, desperately impressed,” Rei bemoans, grabbing for Shu’s hands and bringing them to his lips to kiss his knuckles. “Don’t you _ever_ run off and do something like that again. _Sleeping_ me, you wretch, how dare you.”

 

“In my defense, you _were_ already asleep,” Shu points out. He tries to turn around, briefly faints, and wakes up just as his head hits the bed. “Oh. You’re sideways.”

 

“No—no, that would be you,” Rei frets, swiftly rearranging himself to pull Shu onto the bed properly, propping his head up onto the pillows. “Mika!”

 

There’s a scuttling sound in the hallway, and Mika pops his head back inside, worry etched across his face. “Yeah?”

 

“Bring Izumi _here_.”

 

Mika bolts, gone again in an instant, and Rei exhales slowly, smoothing Shu’s singed hair back from his face. “You’re probably just not used to throwing that much magic around, after such a long time,” he worriedly says, “but it’s better to make sure that’s all it is.”

 

“I’m fine,” Shu says crossly, blinking up at Rei from where he’s firmly pinioned to the bed. “Rei, I’m just tired, I didn’t sleep all night and I haven’t eaten for a few days, be sensible and stop swimming.”

 

“I’m coming, I’m coming, stop _pulling_ on me, it’s so goddamn early,” comes Izumi’s thoroughly ruffled voice, until Mika yanks him into the bedroom properly, shoves the door shut, and Izumi’s eyes fall upon Shu. “Oh.”

 

Yanking his nightclothes tighter about himself, Izumi strides over to the bed, waving away Rei’s clinging hands. “You look like shit,” Izumi bluntly tells Shu, pressing his hand to Shu’s pale, pale forehead. “You’re a _mess_. Do you have any magic left at all? Will you actually eat something if I tell you to?”

 

“I’m fine,” Shu snaps, glaring up at all of them. “And for the record, yes, I’ve been asking for food. None of you are impressed enough, see if I ever defeat an unspeakable evil for you again.”

 

“I’ve been out all day and night, I know nothing,” Izumi wearily says, pulling his hand back. “Bread still acceptable? I’ll go get it.”

 

“I’m _very_ impressed, but far more concerned about you,” Rei gently says. “I’ll act even more impressed when I’m sure that you’re not going to continue passing out.”

 

Shu grumbles, but relaxes as soon as Izumi goes for food, tugging Rei down against the pillows with him. with a little grunt. “Tell me again and I’ll go shut the other two. I’m really quite cross, you know. This isn’t how I pictured coming back. If I can be this cross, surely I’m entirely healthy.”

 

“I regret to inform you, you’re always a bit cranky and I find it adorable,” Rei says, stretching out next to him like one long, protective cat, sliding his arms about Shu as if attempting to shield him. “You’re going to _rest_ right now, and then we can discuss plans to handle the other two gates.”

 

“Master, you can’t just go alone again,” Mika quietly says, flopping down onto the floor next to the bed and propping his chin up on the edge, watching over Shu as much as he’s able to with one, not entirely useful eye. “You gotta bring me so I can at least feed y’afterwards.”

 

Shu blinks, looking down at Mika. “When did you get in here? I thought you went to bring me food. I swear, you’re all on me to eat most days, but when I actually want to…Why should I have to bring anyone? Haven’t I proven that I can take care of myself against one of these things just fine?”

 

“…Izumin’s gettin’ you food, Master,” Mika says, trying not to sound too worried. “I’ve been here since I got him to come here.”

 

“It’s not important, it’s fine,” Rei swiftly dismisses. “We’ll all discuss how to go from here, once Shu actually has a proper meal.”

 

“Or a loaf of bread, because that’s how we operate here,” Izumi interrupts, nudging open the door again to produce just that. “Can you sit up? You’re very, very flat right now.”

 

“I don’t see that verticality has any inherent value,” Shu mutters, but sits up anyway, with an exaggerated air like he doesn’t see what the big problem is. He takes the bread, takes one small nibble, and sucks in a deep breath. Then, as quickly as blinking, the rest of the loaf disappears, leaving behind only a few crumbs, which Shu delicately presses with his thumb, nibbling each one. “Tasty. Very good. Well done. I don’t suppose there’s any more…no? Well, I feel better already.”

 

“Holy shit,” Izumi settles upon, eyebrows raising. “I’m sure there will be more soon, they’re prepping breakfast already down there, so…”

 

“You look a little less pale,” Rei murmurs, thumbing away a strand of Shu’s hair from his face. “Honestly, I’m the one that’s supposed to be as white as a sheet, love.”

 

“Yes, but I do usually avoid the sun,” Shu points out. “Honestly, I’m just tired. I worked hard, and no one has even asked how I did it. And it was _clever_.”

 

“I wanna know,” Mika quietly says, pawing at the hem of Shu’s Nightcloak.

 

“And of course I do as well—forgive me, my concern for my one true love and _mate_ sort of overrides the urge to hear about magical theory—“

 

“Demon brain,” Izumi mumbles, ignoring the sideways _look_ Rei shoots in his direction. “Whatever. You’re fine, just hungry. Eat more, I’m going to bed properly this time, unless any of you need me again?”

 

“I’ll send for you if I decide to do anything very stressful and stupid,” Shu assures him. It’s a joke, but he’s already halfway towards deciding what to do about Mika’s eye, so that’s something. “I altered the entire Gate’s energy state until it was the exact texture and metaphysical weight as its intake. I made it eat itself, essentially.”

 

Izumi drifts out of the room with a yawn stifle behind one hand, pulling the door shut behind him, and Mika slithers a bit more up onto the bed, plopping his chin atop Shu’s thigh. “That’s _cool_ ,” he says. “Really scary, though. You’d have to be so precise…”

 

“Which means that Shu is arguably the only one that could do something like that, of course,” Rei quietly praises, sliding an arm around Shu to give him a slow squeeze. “I certainly couldn’t. This was the smallest of the gates, though; do you really think something like that would be applicable elsewhere?”

 

“…Theoretically,” Shu allows, the first time he lets any doubt creep into his voice. “With a bigger one…that’s a lot of energy to displace. I’m not saying I couldn’t do it, but…ah, of course, the really dangerous part is that if any of my own signature got into the spell, or anyone else working with me…well.” He shrugs a little, not wanting to think about it. “But theoretically, regardless of scale, it should be the same. But, ah, I would eat first.”

 

“…The one in the North might be able to be stabilized within the Shadowlands first,” Rei tentatively suggests, mulling the idea over in his head for a moment before dismissing it with a shrug. “But that’s another conversation for later. You’ll do more than _eat_ before you go out there again; you were _just_ freshly healed. I can still see missing bits and pieces where it hasn’t finished, you know.”

 

Shu sighs, and finally lays his head on Rei’s shoulder, reaching a hand out for Mika’s. “I couldn’t stand the idea of either of you getting caught in what I was trying to do,” he says softly. “The two of you…I won’t entertain the idea of a thing happening to either of you. Doing this alone was the safest way.”

 

Mika clambers up onto the bed entirely now, plastering himself up against Shu’s side and burrowing against him. “Know why you did it,” he murmurs, his arms slithering their way around Shu’s waist. “An’ you’re _awesome_ , so of course y’could do it all by yourself. Still prob’ly not gonna let you do it alone again, though.”

 

“Mmn, something along those lines,” Rei quietly says, stroking a hand through Shu’s hair. “You’re too brilliant for your own good.”

 

“If you do want me to do any extremely impressive magic anytime soon,” Shu says, snuggling somehow into both of them at once, “I’m going to require some time alone in a dark, dry, cool room for a few days with some beautiful material. I want to make something.”

 

“I’d magic you off to the Shadowlands if I could,” Rei murmurs, nuzzling his face into Shu’s hair. “I think you’d thoroughly enjoy some of the fabric offerings there. Also, it’s usually dark, dry, and cool.”

 

“Is it true you’ve got spiders that make yarn?” Mika asks immediately, perhaps too intrigued. “I want it.”

 

“Ah…something like that. They’re not really spiders, but I suppose that’s the closest comparison.”

 

“I’d be jealous,” Shu says speculatively. “I’ve always wanted to make my own yarn.”

 

“I’ll get you a fancy rabbit. Shadowland, ah, spiders? Are not exactly…”

 

“Are they like snogs?” Mika’s eye gleams. “Can snogs make yarn, y’think?”

 

“I very much doubt that? And no, they are not like snogs.”

 

“Tell me about these Shadowlands rabbits. Do they have spinnerets?”

 

“How…how did we get to Shadowlands rabbits? I just suggested a fancy rabbit.”

 

Shu considers. “I just assumed that if you assumed I didn’t know about a certain kind of fiber, it must be from the Shadowlands. Am I wrong? Were you insinuating that there is a mundane sort of fiber-producing animal that I, the heir and scion of the Itsuki house, know nothing about? Is that what you meant, Rei?”

 

“I—well—there are new breeds of Northern rabbits that have shown up over the past few years, and you’ve been rather preoccupied,” Rei hastily backtracks, holding up a defensive hand. “But, sure, there’s definitely a Shadowlands rabbit that you’re unaware of. That’s what I was referring to.”

 

“Does it got spinnerets?” Mika cuts in again, eye narrowed.

 

“Well—it—I suppose.” Damn. Time to make a new rabbit species for his beautiful mate and mate accessory.

 

“It doesn’t _need_ spinnerets,” Shu assures him, the glint in his eye making it rather mysterious whether he’s onto this plot or not. “I’m competent at harvesting. But I assume its staple length is a marvel to behold, with minimal halo.”

 

“If it ain’t got spinnerets, it needs talons. To shred th’ meat that it _devours_ —“

 

“Even Shadowlands rabbits are herbivores, Mika.”

 

“Nooo. Then it can’t be real creepy _and_ cute.” Mika pouts openly, tugging at Shu’s sleeve. “It could be Cupcake’s friend, if y’get one.”

 

“Surely, you mean ‘when,’ Mika. As if my beloved mate would tell me about such a wondrous creature and not produce one? I assume they come in natural red.”

 

“Any other preferences, my love?” Rei wearily says, the inquiry long-suffering, but intensely fond. “I’d like to make sure that you’re fully satisfied with your new perfect, natural red, spinneret-having Shadowlands rabbit with marvelous staple length and minimal halo.”

 

“Oh, no, that should be all,” Shu says airily. “I wouldn’t want to be unreasonable.”

 

“I don’t suppose you want a breeding pair, so you can have infinite rabbits.”

 

“Ooh, that one,” Mika pipes up. “Lots of bunnies. Especially if they wanna eat me.”

 

“Why is that desirable?” Rei mutters, looking to Shu. “Why does he want to be eaten?”

 

Shu smiles. “What do you expect, my lord? I think he’s charming. I do want a breeding pair, of course. Good thinking. I’ll expect you to procure me a proper hutch for them, as well. It should be grand.”

 

“Your wish is my command,” Rei says on a sigh, and promptly rolls over to crush Shu underneath his weight. “Because _apparently_ , you can part the seas and do something no one else has ever been able to do. A genius deserves rabbits.”

 

Shu squeaks, and wriggles under Rei, rather pleased with himself. “A genius could be spoiled,” he suggests, “with more than just rabbits. Perhaps by two people that he loves very much.”

 

“I dunno,” Mika says dubiously, snuggling up closer to nuzzle his face into Shu’s neck, then gently nips it in a way that has nothing to do with just cuddling. “Rabbits are pretty awesome.”

 

“I _do_ think Shu wants something more carnivorous as well,” Rei sighs, nuzzling up to the opposite ear, teeth lightly catching its lobe. “Unless I’m mistaken?”

 

A shiver rolls slowly through Shu’s body, startling somewhere in his belly and radiating up to his fingers, down to his toes, as his eyes lid. “I…could be eaten,” he allows. It’s not the demure statement he’d intended to make, but they’re lovely, they’re warm, and they’re _his_. “Last time we did this, Mika got all the attention…not that I minded, but, ah, I’ve had the idea, so…”

 

“I do _not_ wanna be eaten right now,” Mika firmly says, even as his fingers tiptoe accurately down to one of Shu’s nipples. “But I’ll eat you. That’s good.”

 

“Fortunately, Shu has ideas,” Rei says, amusement in his voice as he shifts, sliding a thigh up between Shu’s legs. “Anything in particular, love? You’ve always had such a creative mind.”

 

Shu grabs Rei by the collar, eyes flashing as he lets his legs part, fiery and pliant all at once. “I do not want to use my incredible mind right now,” he says firmly. “I want to be enjoyed. _Thoroughly_. Perhaps, ah…” A flush creeps up his cheeks, and an image flits from his mind to Rei’s, one of being fully stuffed by two men without impeding his ability to scream.

 

Rei’s eyebrows arch high— _you’re sure? well, who am I to refuse you_ —even as he rearranges himself, setting himself between Shu’s parted thighs. “I think we can arrange this,” he murmurs, already reaching for the fastenings of Shu’s trousers. “Mika, there’s a good stash of oil in here, I hope?”

 

“Mm, Master’s been needy,” Mika unabashedly teases, his own fingers dragging down the front of Shu’s shirt to undo the neat row of buttons. “But I’ve been taking good care of him, I think.”

 

“Excellent care,” Shu breathes, toes wriggling, skin prickling when it’s exposed to the air. He twists one hand in the back of Mika’s nightshirt, the other in Rei’s hair, his breath quickening, heating up, when he realizes that this fantasy of his is about to come _true_. His body feels hot all over, and a little fluttering of nervousness tingles in his belly. It’s been a long time since he’s felt that uncertainty, and he relishes it now, leaning into it, deliberately thinking about how intimidating such a thing could be. “But not often enough, not yet.”

 

Rei snorts out a laugh at that, leaning into the tug on his hair to catch Shu’s mouth, where he bites, sucks, kisses those lips thoroughly. “Not often enough? You’ve turned into a bit of a whore in my absence,” he lowly teases, yanking Shu’s pants off and tossing them over his shoulder. “I like that.”

 

“I think he’s always been like this,” Mika hums, his fingertips dragging back down to Shu’s nipples once they’re exposed properly, gently twisting one of them. “He’s just kinda shy about it.”

 

“Ah, that won’t do.” Rei rocks back, kneeling between Shu’s legs before hauling him up, dragging him into his lap in one strong, fluid motion. “You don’t get to hide at all if you want this,” he murmurs, kissing the side of Shu’s neck as he crooks a finger towards Mika. “Over here, love, come up behind him.”

 

Mika eagerly jumps forward to do just that, pressing up against Shu from behind, his alreadyhardening cock sliding against the curve of Shu’s ass as he nuzzles into the back of his neck. “Are we gonna share him like this? Nhh, Master, you’re gonna be a real mess.”

 

Shu squeaks, and shivers, squirming in Rei’s grasp, deliberately enough to push Rei, to make it a challenge, but nowhere near enough to actually get free of the Demon King’s grip. He hides his face in Rei’s shoulder, gripping his lovely upper arms, feeling those surprisingly strong, lean muscles under his fingers. He’s stupid for doing this now. When Rei had been having him every night, sure, that was one thing, but now, he must be insane to want to try this.

 

Already, he’s achingly hard, rubbing mindlessly against Rei’s thigh and lower belly, eyes dropping to the thin trail of hair leading down from his belly button. “You’re both so…handsome,” he whimpers, feeling his ass clench at the idea of what they’re about to do. He shivers again, and feels it in his nipples. “S-someone—get a finger in me, at least, I’m—“ _Hungry_.

 

“We should probably make you ask nicely for it, but you’re being so cute that I can’t bother,” Rei breathes, taking the oil that Mika deftly shoves into his grasp and uncorking the bottle with his teeth. The sweet, fragrant smell spills over his fingers as he reaches back, a pair of fingers sliding down between Shu’s cheeks, stroking, teasing before sinking inside.

 

“Are you gonna come before we’re even in you?” Mika idly asks, reaching around to get his fingers on Shu’s nipples, pinching, tugging harder as he feels them swiftly harden. His mouth parts against Shu’s neck, biting before he sucks, hard enough to leave a prominent, red-purple blotch on that otherwise perfectly pale skin.

 

Shu’s mouth falls open, eyes crossing at that first press of Rei’s hand inside of him. His cock jumps and drips, and he wriggles ineffectually both forward and back, mostly _back_ , forcing himself onto those fingers, making Mika’s fingers pinch and pull.

 

He feels his mind slipping away, leaving him in a tingling, throbbing state where all he is is a pliant, eager body, where he doesn’t have to be a great wizard, where he doesn’t have to do anything but use his body to please and _enjoy_. He tries to talk, and it comes out a mumbled mess, as he rolls his head to the side to let Mika have his neck, squeezing down on Rei’s fingers to make them feel bigger. He’s only a hairsbreadth away from begging them to hurt him, he knows, and he opens his mind to Rei, craving that ultimate vulnerability, feeling himself slip further and further away.

 

_Relax. Just let me take care of you._

 

Rei’s fingers curl, pressing in deeper, stroking deliberately and delving in deep to repeatedly rub at the exact right angle to make Shu clench and shake. “Coming once might loosen him up,” he lowly says, adjusting his hand to slowly add a third finger, then a fourth—maybe a bit too quickly, but his fingers are slender, and Shu needs to be able to take a lot more, besides. “For such a cockslut, he’s _awfully_ tight.”

 

“Even after we fuck him, he probably still will be,” Mika sighs, sucking on another spot on Shu’s neck, littering his skin with bite after bite. “He’s good at that. Mmn, maybe I should help?” he idly considers, running a finger down Shu’s spine, teasing over that slick, stretched hole, but not delving inside.

 

Shu hiccups at the idea, and his mind clicks off completely. He shudders deeply, then relaxes, pushing back on Rei’s fingers (so slender but so many, opening him up so beautifully, getting him ready for what he’d asked for, what in this state he doesn’t fear at all), wordlessly begging for Mika’s too. His forehead rests against Rei’s shoulder, slick with sweat, and he twists mindlessly, trying to get those fingers to rub him where he wants it most, ignoring the way they stretch him to try and get them to rub against that perfect spot that will help him fizzle into heaven. His cock is quivering, straining as if trying to _finish_ something, his body wound so tight he craves release and fears it at the same time.

 

His thoughts aren’t words anymore, just feelings, pleading and eager.

 

Mika doesn’t waste any more time after tipping some of the oil over his own hand, trusting the arc of Shu’s spine, the way he trembles and arches, that he _can_ take this. A pair of his own fingers slowly wriggle in next to Rei’s, far more pinpoint in their press inside, stroking against that perfect, sweet little spot deep inside of him. “You’re bein’ so _good_ , Shu,” he murmurs, his breath hot against Shu’s ear, washing over his sweat-slick skin.

 

“You can come, if you want,” Rei lowly says, spreading his fingers as they fuck in slowly. “Maybe then you’ll be nice and pliant when we fuck you—just like you’re our pretty little doll to play with.”

 

Rei hardly needs to tell him. Mika somehow understands him, just as well as the man he shares a soul with, and those fingers give him _exactly_ what he needs. Just as much, the voice in his ear—the voices, in _both_ ears—are as accurate, making him tremble hard for a long, endless, aching moment until his body gives up, spilling and shuddering as he slumps against Rei, squeezing down on the thick stretch of fingers hard before he relaxes. “N-now,” he slurs, hands clutching at Rei, though the order is for both of them. “Now, now, now, put it in me now, Rei—Rei first, or I’ll never—“ He hiccups again, already overstimulated, eyes burning.

 

Rei says nothing. Instead, he simply withdraws his hand, tipping more oil into it to drag up the full length of his cock—achingly, painfully hard, throbbing within his grasp to the point his eyes cross when he touches himself.

 

Shu is pliant, almost floppy when Rei tugs him up further into his lap, guiding the head of his cock to that slick hole. It sinks inside with surprising ease, and Rei muffles a groan into Shu’s hair as he grabs those lean hips, tugging Shu down, fully sheathing himself inside. “Ahh…gods, no one takes cock like you,” he mutters, blowing a sweaty strand of hair out of his face. “Good boy. Mm, are you ready for Mika to give it a try, too?”

 

Mika slides a finger against the stretched, tense skin around Rei’s cock, heaving a breathy little sigh against Shu’s shoulder. “It feels so tight, though,” he sighs, dropping his hand down to his own cock as he presses close, guiding the head to that impossibly tight hole. He doesn’t press yet, just rubs against it, teasing. “Shu~…you’re all trembly, you must’ve been thinkin’ about this kinda thing for awhile, huh…”

 

“Y-years,” Shu whispers in a tone like a confessional. He arches, slowly rocking up and down Rei’s cock, licking his wet lips, biting them to try and make some sense of the sensations coursing through him in silky waves. “Years, years, ever s-since I heard Izumi talking about doing this, I…always with you two…M-Mika, put a finger in f-first, please…”

 

“Even that’s gonna feel like a lot,” Mika murmurs, but does as he’s told, carefully easing in an oil-slicked finger in alongside Rei’s thick cock with a _lot_ of effort. It takes his breath away, feeling how tight Shu is, how he squeezes down when he moves, and he swallows noisily, letting his finger sink in deeper. “There’s no way…”

 

“If we take our time,” Rei breathes, squeezing Shu’s waist and pressing a warm, wet kiss to the side of his neck. His own cock throbs inside, dripping as he holds still, holds Shu still on him, letting Mika’s finger stretch him even further open. “And Shu wants it _so_ much…once we’re both in there, he probably won’t stop coming.”

 

“Your fault. You’re so big.” Shu’s words are a throaty gasp, and he starts to get a little life back in his eyes, a glint of that determination. He starts bucking down, riding Rei in an easy, delicious rhythm, one of his hands coming up to drag down his chest, down to his lower abdomen. “When you’re both in me,” he breathes, “I’ll be able to feel it here. I’ll be able to see it, like I’m nothing but a toy for both of you. Won’t…won’t that be nice, Mika? When you’re both in me?”

 

“Hold ‘im still,” Mika mutters, and Rei does so with a hitching breath, his grip tight to Shu’s upper arms, pulling him forward, holding him fast. Mika doesn’t pull that slick finger completely out, not yet—he uses it to help urge Shu open further, making it easier to press the head of his cock against that tight, trembling hole, and with a soft, breathy grunt of effort, he manages to shove inside after two slick tries nearly making him fail.

 

It takes his breath away, leaving him to whimper against Shu’s shoulder, where he bites down for a moment as Mika instinctively thrusts up, sinking in centimeter by centimeter, burying himself into that _impossibly_ tight place. Rei’s hands move, grabbing at Shu’s hips, steadying him, no matter how he grits his teeth against the stars sparking behind his own eyes.

 

Shu’s eyes unfocus, and magic suddenly swirls, darkening the lamps in the room, tinging everything a startling, sparkling violet. His mouth hangs open, eyes dilated, and a squeak comes out of his lips. He sucks in another breath, hand pressing down on his own belly, and yes, there they are, he can feel that hard jut of flesh under his fingers, just barely. _This must be what a woman feels, when there’s a life in her,_ he thinks, thoughts spinning out of control, his magic whirling. _But I’ve got two lives in me, haven’t I?_

 

Rei growls low in the back of his throat, his hips rocking up, hands tugging on Shu to help ease him down when his body goes slack. “If that’s what you think,” he murmurs aloud, teeth catching against the curve of one of Shu’s ears, “then you must really want me to knock you up.”

 

Mika’s own hands paw at Shu’s sides, sliding around to his belly where his fingers slide over that little bulge—which of course, only encourages him to grind in deeper, each driving thrust between himself and Rei pushing and pulling Shu between them. “Maybe we both will,” he pants, hooking his chin over Shu’s shoulder. “I feel like he’d like that a _lot._ ”

 

Shu’s body feels a hundred things at once. The thick pair of cocks in him make him almost nauseous, but in a way that drives him only farther towards ecstasy. He arches and writhes, head tipping back, magic thrumming under his skin as his thighs finally give out, and he simply sags down, letting them shove him around, letting them take him however they want, letting them shove him back and forth between them, letting them own him. A small burning flame of jealousy burns in him, hot as a brand against his ribcage, burning ever since he’d seen Izumi. _Why not me? Why can’t I serve my lord like that?_

 

“Harder,” he breathes, squeezing his eyes shut. _Make me forget._

 

Rei’s hands aren’t gentle when they grab at Shu’s thighs, keeping his legs splayed wide apart as he grinds up, setting a ruthless pace that fortunately, Mika has no problem matching. His mouth is hot, wet on Shu’s throat, sucking on that pale skin to leave his own array of marks, with every too-tense, too-tight slide making him occasionally bite down, muffling the groans that want to escape.

 

Even if he _can’t_ really knock Shu up, he can certainly fill his belly another way.

 

He comes first, possessive and rough, biting down into Shu’s shoulder to hold him in place more than anything as he yanks on that slim waist to pull him down further onto both his cock and Mika’s. Mika, gasping, clawing at Shu’s hips, fucks in desperately, that sudden, added slickness making him groan, and he buries his face into Shu’s sweaty hair, holding tightly to him as he doesn’t wait much longer himself before flooding that tight hole with pulse after pulse.

 

Shu’s mouth is open, but no sound comes out. His body feels raw and sated, his mind pulsing in time to two other heartbeats. He slumps down onto Rei’s body, little weak noises falling out of him, hands trembling too hard to grab anything properly. “Pull out,” he whispers, when it starts to sting so badly tears spring to his eyes. “Nnh, one at a time, please, that—do it again or pull out.” He hadn’t meant to say that, but he’s always been stupid about knowing when enough is enough.

 

“Workin’ on it,” Mika rasps, trembling as he forces himself to move first, easing his cock out with a grimace before he flops back, a little too overstimulated to do anything but that.

 

Rei doesn’t precisely obey; instead, he dumps Shu onto his back without pulling out of him, prowling over him with a swift nip to the arc of his throat. “What an interesting slip of the tongue,” he breathes, eyes lidded. “Maybe I should keep eating you myself.”

 

“I’ll die,” Shu says, the words coming out sloppy, and his legs tremble as he spreads them automatically, his body rousing to Rei’s energy more than his touch, exposing his slick, dripping hole. “You—you haven’t had your fill, had you? It’s—it’s messy, isn’t it?”

 

“You won’t die,” Rei reassures him, pushing sweaty hair out of his face and over his shoulder as he eases his cock back inside with a hitching breath, hiking one of Shu’s longs legs over his shoulder to open him up even further. It _is_ very slick, but that makes it easier, especially when he can still feel Shu sort of futilely squeeze down around him. “Did you really think just having you once would be enough?” _You wanted to be eaten, so I’m going to do it thoroughly._

 

Mika collapses back, eyes lidded as he watches, but knowing better than to intervene. When Rei’s in a mood—well, sticking even a hand near that means it’ll get bitten off.

 

Mika is the dearest thing Shu has in this world. Mika is what he’s proudest of, and the person that he cherishes so deeply he’d rather die without him.

 

But Mika has no place in Shu’s mind right now, not even the barest shadow of him. Rei is as bright as the sun above him—no, as dark as the night, sucking in all the light, sucking Shu in just as firmly until he’s consumed by that enveloping darkness, and he gives himself to it willingly, ecstatically. Energy surges through him, and he winds his arms around Rei’s neck, wrapping his legs around Rei’s waist, yanking him in deep with a cry. It _hurts_ , but it fills him better than anything ever has, more than anything Shu has ever wanted. “Never pull out,” he whispers, nails sinking into Rei’s neck. “ _Never_.”

 

Rei’s teeth sink into Shu’s neck, finally biting to _drink_ for the first time as his cock sinks in deep, thrusting into that slick, trembling heat as he grabs at Shu, pulls him against him. “I won’t,” he hoarsely groans when he breaks from Shu’s throat, tongue dragging over the twin spots of blood that well to the surface. His hands drag down, grabbing up the curve of Shu’s ass to pull him down as he ruts forward, slower now that he has the _taste_ of Shu on his tongue to sate him as well.

 

Shu whines, clutching to Rei with all he has. If it were anyone else inside him, he’d be a boneless heap right now, but Rei rouses something in him. Rei drives him long past ennervations. Rei pulls something out of him that he’s never known he _could_ be, and Rei makes him grab and arch and twist with him, writhing in a two-bodied monster taking over the bed, filling his senses. Rei probably thinks it’s magic. Shu doesn’t care whether it is or not. “Mine,” he breathes, eyes rolling back in his head, nails dragging down the pale skin of Rei’s back.

 

Rei hisses out a breath, his own eyes fluttering shut as his back arches underneath the sharp, lingering drag of Shu’s nails down his skin, and his fangs nearly cut flesh again when he claims Shu’s mouth, only just stopping himself from biting those lips _too_ hard. His cock throbs hard inside, dripping with every thrust, the squirming, twisting arc of Shu underneath him making his touch rougher, more bruising than it probably should be to hold him down and take him however he likes.

 

“Yours,” he breathlessly grunts, the sticky slap of flesh against flesh rounding out the perfection in the noises Shu makes, with every little whine and whimper making Rei’s eyes cross. His nails bite into Shu’s hips, and he holds tight as he comes with a gasp, filling Shu for a second time, coming with long, slick throbs inside that perfect body. _Mine, mine, mine_.

 

Shu doesn’t slump down so much as he simply goes limp, that electric wire of energy animating him suddenly cut like a marionette’s strings, the second Rei finishes inside of him. His mouth is slack, breathing rapid, eyes heavy-lidded, cheeks flushed, pupils blown, hands and legs completely relaxed. “Nngh,” he says, with every bit of articulation he can muster.

 

“Mmn,” Rei offers up just as eloquently, sagging down in a floppy, sweaty mess of long limbs and hair.

 

“Y’alls magic does weird things when y’get like that,” Mika murmurs, idly tugging over a blanket over the two of them, then slowly snuggles his way into Shu’s side.

 

“So does yours.” The words feel heavy, like Shu has to lift each one with too-weak muscles, and he gives up on saying anything else.

 

“Nuh uh. Not in the same way.” Mika nuzzles up into Shu’s sweaty hair, breathing in slowly. “Master, you really are the best…”

 

“Mm, it’s true, you’re amazing,” Rei dazedly says, kissing Shu’s neck before his head flops back down again. “The sun is rising, but do not expect me to any time soon.”

 

“I expect to rise next week at the earliest. Mika. Cover me. With. Blanket. Then be silent. Good lad.”

 

Mika piles another blanket on and for once, actually shuts up when Shu tells him to, joining the tangled pile of floppy limbs very, very contently.


	20. Chapter 20

 

Rising from the primordial ooze of the Shadowlands is a task easier said than done, but with the right components, it’s doable.

 

 _Components_ can mean a number of things, depending on the creature. For this particular creature, it’s residual magic, it’s memories, it’s objects, it’s even pieces of platinum hair, taped inside of a sketchbook long-stashed underneath a heavy mattress, forcibly ‘forgotten’ in hopes of forcibly ‘forgetting’ everything else drawn within it.

 

Without it, without that shred of proof that _he existed_ once upon a time, inhabiting his own body again would be virtually impossible, thanks to the Demon King. But with that shred of used-to-existed-ness, something long and pale writhes to life in the retired Enhanced and Watcher Keito’s bed, lean, bare limbs tangled beneath the sheets, and a head full of far longer platinum hair emerging with glassy blue eyes slowly unclouding.

 

Breathing _life_ into this body again feels like a labor, and when Eichi inhales, it sounds like rasping branches and crackling leaves.

 

Keito sleeps badly.

 

That happens sometimes, though he can’t deny that the bad dreams have increased in frequency lately. Last night, they were especially bad, and he wakes like some long-dead thing, rising from a pit of darkness. He doesn’t make it far from bed, slumping over his desk, dozing much better out of his bed than in it. _Maybe Mao is right. Maybe it is time for a new mattress. The last time I bought one, I was young enough that my knees didn’t creak when I walked up stairs._

 

A sound like a creaking bellows interrupts one of his naps, and he looks up, dazed, drowsy, and blinks slowly. “Oh. You’re here,” he mumbles, because Eichi is always in his dreams.

 

But his elbow doesn’t ache from the way he’d slept on it in his dreams. His eyes don’t feel bleary, his stomach doesn’t remind him that it’s been a day or so since he’d eaten, and too late, his mind catches up to logic.

 

And he faints.

 

Eichi blinks slowly, his eyes briefly slitting as they adjust to the low light, and he slowly sits up, letting blankets drip off of him and to the floor. “Oh. It’s Keito.” He slithers out of the bed, reaching over to prod at Keito’s slumped form at his desk. “I didn’t expect this to be the place I crawled out of, but, hmm…”

 

“Go away,” Keito mumbles, from lips that are numb and tingling. “You’re a dream, you can’t be here. And if you are a dream, that’s just cruel.”

 

“You’re the one that summoned me.” Eichi slumps over and into him, hooking his chin over Keito’s shoulder. “If you think this is cruel, then you’re just a masochist, Kei~to.”

 

“Get your demon head out of your ass,” Keito snaps, his mind somehow chugging along through life, despite the fact that he’s vaguely certain that he’s actually snapped this time, and should be in a hospital. “I didn’t summon you. What, did I leave out a cream cake or something inviting you back from hell?”

 

Eichi pouts. “No, but I wish you would’ve. I’m _hungry_. You kept things of mine, though, so that’s almost as good.”

 

“There’s…there’s a crust of bread in the pantry, I think? I haven’t been shopping.” Keito rubs his temples. “I hate this. Go away, this hurts. Dealing with this is too much right now, I have a headache.”

 

“You’re being mean. I came back all this way, and I came back to _you_ first.” Eichi pulls away to limply flop his way over Keito’s bed again. “You should be grateful.”

 

Keito slowly turns to face him, knowing full well how much it’s going to hurt. It does. An ache lances through his heart, making it hard to breathe, at the sight of that golden hair, that heartbreaking upturned mouth, those twinkling blue eyes. “That depends,” he says softly, feeling the life he’s built start to erode beneath him like sand under his feet when waves sweep the shore, “on what you came back to do.”

 

Eichi props his chin up into one pale hand, peering over at Keito from underneath the mussed fall of his hair. “Does it? You always supported me in the past, no matter what. What’s changed?”

 

“Well. You died.”

 

“Only a little. Look, see, I’m right here and just fine.” As if on cue, Eichi coughs, which turns into an ongoing coughing fit that he stifles behind a hand. “Mostly,” he wheezes, teary-eyed and redfaced.

 

Keito folds his arms over his chest, swearing he can feel his heart thundering against them. “Things are peaceful. Things are good. You…you aren’t here to disrupt everything, are you? I mean, I assume you are. I’m asking you not to.”

 

“I can’t believe you’d assume something sooo terrible of me. You haven’t even made me tea, you’re just sitting here accusing me of ruining everything.”

 

“Listen. I tried to stand up four times. My legs won’t move. You know how poorly I do with surprises!”

 

Eichi pauses, listens for a moment, then sighs in defeat. “I suppose you don’t even have your cute favorite running around now, either. He’s…in the North, I believe? Oh well. It’s for the best, I guess he’d run and tattle on us, wouldn’t he.”

 

“Leave him alone.”

 

Keito’s legs work a little better, not a lot, but enough for him to stumble over to the bed, grabbing Eichi’s hands. They’re like ice, but that’s hardly new. “Eichi, please. Please don’t do anything to him.” HIs voice is urgent, breaking. “I—after you, he’s all I—“

 

“Relax, Keito.” Eichi smiles, reversing Keito’s grip to squeeze his hands. “I have no reason to hurt him, so long as he doesn’t interfere. He’s always been a smart boy, I can’t imagine he’d put his nose where it doesn’t belong, especially after last time.” He leans forward, eyes lidding. “There’s no reason he even has to know I’m here. You agree, right?”

 

Keito sighs, in a way that feels torn from his whole body instead of just his lungs. “You’ve been back for five minutes, and already you’re asking me to make horrible choices with no information. Interfere in _what_ , exactly? Why can’t you just, I don’t know, go on vacation to the Isles?”

 

Eichi pouts and tugs on Keito’s hands, trying to drag him onto the bed with his own decidedly feeble strength. “You’re so cruel to me. Why would I want to go to the Isles? What I’m looking for isn’t there at _all_.”

 

“I…I really hate to ask,” Keito says tiredly, letting himself be dragged, wincing as his body bends in a way it hadn’t been expecting, left knee locking up. “But what are you looking for, exactly? Ow, ow, my legs aren’t as young as they used to be.”

 

“They’re about the same, if you ask me,” Eichi says, entirely unfazed as he sprawls out, staring over at Keito. “I want what was mine, nothing more. This body, the Academy…” His eyes glitter. “The King.”

 

“No, Eichi, no,” Keito groans, rubbing his face with his hands. “They’re going to stop you, and you’re going to die again. Either way, you’re going to rip the world apart, knock it off. Take a moment and just think things _through_ , will you? Stop acting like such a brat.”

 

“I _have_ been thinking things through. For years, I’ve been in that pit, thinking about all of this and nothing else.” Eichi’s eyes narrow. “It’s not a matter of acting like a brat. He’s _mine_. He’s _still_ mine.”

 

“Eichi. He’s moved on. If you love him, leave him alone.”

 

“You can’t move on from a resonant bond. That’s not possible.”

 

“It snapped, didn’t it? Didn’t…didn’t you break it?”

 

“…That doesn’t mean it isn’t still there, in some capacity.”

 

Eichi rolls onto his back, fluttering a hand. “There’s no real way to completely sever a bond. I found that out easily enough. Maybe…maybe…” He trails off for a moment, then snorts. “Maybe if I had succeeded, I would’ve been able to rest. But there was still…plenty of my magic, not just the strands of the bond, hanging onto him. For years, I was still with him. I doubt he mentioned it to anyone, that’s for the best.”

 

Keito’s mind flicks forward quickly, searching for a solution. For better or worse (probably worse), most of his life has been spent either in a sort of generalized abetting or generalized mitigation, depending on how much Eichi needed him at any particular point in time. “I’m not putting up with it,” he warns. “Not this time, for certain. You’re going to sit there and listen to how badly you messed up, I’m warning you. You got off too easily by dying, I didn’t get to lecture you.”

 

“Lecture me all you want. I’ve missed it.” Eichi’s mouth twitches into a smile. “That doesn’t change that I’m a simple-minded thing. Ugh, he has Rei’s stink all over him, I can smell it from here.”

 

“You’re _dead_ ,” Keito points out, a bit wearily. “You can’t expect everything to be the same. It’s been eight years, people are moving on. Just…if you have to have the king. Take him and go somewhere. Why do you even _want_ the Academy?”

 

“Because it’s mine. Because it’s something _I_ built.” Eichi shuts his eyes, sighing loudly. “It wasn’t perfect. I’ll admit that. But it was still mine, and I…still thought it was doing something good in this world. There aren’t a lot of my kind that can say that, you know.”

 

“So why not be content with that?” Keito’s voice is more plaintive than frustrated, no matter how he tries to school it. “Why not be happy with what you built, and let it endure and flourish even after you? You don’t always have to do everything yourself, you know!”

 

“But it was _taken_ from me—it’s not like I died and handed it off to someone else willingly. Ahh, I don’t expect you to understand. You’ve always been so good about following through with orders, but giving them, and commanding other people…you’re too gentle, you know.”

 

Keito rolls his eyes. “So says the man responsible for being charged with _war crimes_. Why do you always have to make my life hard?” Despite everything, despite the low, aching pounding in his gut that tells him this man will be the death of him, he reaches out, squeezing Eichi’s cool hand. “I thought I wouldn’t see you again until hell.”

 

“Don’t be silly.” Eichi smiles up at him, twining their fingers together. “There’s no hell, not really. When you die, you’ll be in the ground. This is what you get, right now. And you’re getting old, aren’t you? So we might as well have fun one more time, even if you’re s~o convinced I’m going to rip the world apart.”

 

“I’m not sure anyone else could pull off saying that there’s no afterlife with such a sweet smile,” Keito says, defeated. “I’m not sure you can pull it off, either, but you’re doing a good job trying. A lot of these people are my friends now, Eichi. I don’t want to ruin their lives.”

 

“I don’t know why you think I’m interested in ruining lives. I just want Leo back, and the Academy out from underneath Rei’s thumb. I’ll even call off my friends and ask them to close their nasty little Sorrow’s Gates if he gives it back to me.” Eichi shrugs lightly. “See, I’m being perfectly reasonable.”

 

“Listen. The king I understand, but you literally hated teaching. You left the Academy every chance you got. Why not—why not build something new? Leave Rei his tower of plants,” Keito urges. “Build something else, leave _more_ monuments, so they’ll have no choice but to remember your name from now on.”

 

Eichi frowns. “Because Rei is the problem,” he lowly says. “You know he is. If he knew I was here right now, he’d send me back before I could even see Leo again.”

 

“So leave.” Keito’s voice is pained, his hand tightening on Eichi’s. “I’ll go with you. There are other countries, other people to live with. If the King wants to be with you, he’ll come. If he doesn’t…even you don’t want to spend your life with an unwilling partner.”

 

“You’d go?” Eichi twists, suddenly moving to lean over him, staring directly at Keito. “You’d go, and leave all of this? That boy of yours, you’d leave him?”

 

Keito swallows. It feels like broken glass trickles down into his chest. “If you went with me. Forever.” He meets Eichi’s eyes, the eyes of the being he’s loved since he’d known what such a stupid emotion was, and lets Eichi see the truth of the statement.

 

Would it be so bad? No. He could live with it, even enjoy it, forging a new life with this man, this exquisite, extraordinary, otherworldly, beloved man, taming a new land to their will, with him powerful at Eichi’s right hand— _where I’ve always been meant to be_. These past few years of happiness have been stolen anyway. Mao isn’t his. He’s always been Ritsu’s, and Keito has always known that their time (precious, beloved, fleeting) would come to an end.

 

Perhaps it’s best this way.

 

Eichi’s head cocks. He leans down, close enough that his nose nearly brushes Keito’s, before he heaves a sigh, drawing back and pushing his hair back and out of his eyes. “You’re serious. Ahh, that’s very, very _you_ , isn’t it? I don’t hate it. Mm. All right, I’ll make you a deal, but this is the only one I’ll make, and you don’t get to negotiate with it.”

 

“I’m absolutely certain that I’ll hate it, but you’ll give me no choice, since the alternative will be worse. Why even bother? Just tell me what the horrible deal is so I can start coping with my part in it.”

 

“This is why I always loved you,” Eichi sighs, flippantly tossing himself back down and stretching out every long limb to its fullest, relishing in the ability to actually _feel_ his limbs like a human again. “You’re really a terrible person. Mm, anyway—I _do_ want to see Leo. If he rejects me and can’t be swayed, fine. I’ll run off on an adventure with you until we both waste away. But if I do that, I won’t tell my old friends to close off their gates and stop eating the world as you all know it. That’s still going to be Rei’s problem, I don’t care. If Leo _does_ want me, then I’m staying, and you’ll be here with me to take back the rest of what’s mine.”

 

“So it’s not a deal,” Keito says slowly. “It’s a choice. You’re asking me to choose who you kill. Thanks. You’re such a good friend. Why can’t you pick me? I’m picking you over my lover.” And he is, he _is_ , despite the weight in his stomach, he knows what he’s doing, and it’s not a lie.

 

“I _am_ picking you, either way! It’s like you didn’t even listen to me.”

 

“But I mean, just me! Even if Leo wants you! Just—just come with me! I’ll even learn how to have fun again! I’d do it for you!”

 

Eichi looks skeptical. “I mean, I always thought you were sort of fun, in your own way. All right, fine. How about this—and first of all, note how generous I’m being, because I _said_ no negotiations, but I’m letting this happen—even if Leo does want me, I’ll steal him away _and_ be kind enough to _maybe_ tell some of my friends to stop eating people. Then I can have both of you and I won’t even ask for the Academy unless Rei kicks up a fuss.”

 

Keito closes his eyes, and squeezes Eichi’s hand. “You have always been the most important thing in my life,” he says quietly. “Let’s do it. And yes, you get points for being generous, but don’t be too excited, because I’m probably still going to scold you for scaring me.”

 

“Is that supposed to be a threat? Is it? I thrive on being scolded.” Eichi considers uttering another quip, rambling on about another plan, but that’s a product of being locked _up_ for so long, and he knows it. Instead, he sags down, allowing himself to at least vaguely relax. Silly that an old Enhanced _human_ would make him feel at ease, but here he is. “I have to pick on Itsuki at least one more time before I go, regardless.”

 

Keito groans, and grabs a pillow, smothering Eichi in a way that would be far more at home for a couple of young boys, not for an aging man in spectacles and a recently-resurrected demon. “No, that wasn’t part of it, you _know_ if you do that, Rei will kick up a stink, that’s just your way of getting your way!”

 

Eichi makes absolutely no attempt to shove him off, and in fact, seems to enjoy being suffocated. “I can’t help it,” he says, his voice thoroughly muffled by the pillow. “It’s just so much fun. I poked at him once not too long ago—I honestly think the way he panics is the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”

 

Keito gives up on dignity, and climbs up to sit on Eichi’s stomach. “Forget him for a minute. Think about me, you ass. Where are we going to go? Want to pick new names? I’ve got horses, at least. Haven’t quite mastered the whole turning myself into a creature thing you people seem to favor.”

 

“I _am_ thinking about you. You’re my lucky charm; if I have you attached to my hip, Rei will think twice about killing me,” Eichi sweetly says, pushing the pillow off enough to suck in a vaguely raspy breath. “Somewhere warm. Hmm. I mean, the Sandlands _are_ the go-to for running away and starting a new empire…”

 

Keito nearly objects, and adds that the Sandlands has a Royal family. Then he remembers them, and says slowly, “I think…I know you only do good works when you can’t avoid them, but even after everything that happened down there five years ago…I think you could be a huge influence down there, for the better. I’d be happy to go down there with you.” Not to mention a few heated, searing memories from his time that simply won’t leave his mind.

 

Mao had been so honest with his body, back then. They had known there were secrets, between the two of them, but they hadn’t let that stop them from enjoying each other, from making the most of their situation.

 

_Don’t think about him. He’ll be better off without you. You’ve always known that._

 

“I’m fairly behind the times, unfortunately,” Eichi cheerfully admits. “Rei cut me off at some point when Leo was in the Sandlands, so everything after that—fuzzy, bits and pieces of information that I’ve scrounged up…you’ll have to update me thoroughly, won’t you? But that does sound fun, razing that place to the ground and fixing it up, mm…ah, you’re making that face, though. The one when you’re thinking about some lover that’s scorned you. Did you fall in love with a whore down there? Other than Rei, I mean.”

 

“…I won’t even bother telling you not to laugh,” Keito says softly. “But yes. I suppose I did. I’d rather not talk about it, really.”

 

Eichi studies his face for a moment before he shrugs, neatly feigning indifference. “You’ve always been so easily attached. It wasn’t really Rei, was it?”

 

Red hair parts, damp with sweat. A soft hand curls around his neck, silently pleading for more. “No. It wasn’t Rei. Drop it, will you?”

 

“Fine, fine. Do me a favor, though. If it wasn’t Wataru, either, tell me what he’s been up to, if you know.”

 

Keito snorts, startled and amused out of his wistful reflection. “No, no. Gods, no. Absolutely not. No. No, no. Never. No. Ah…I believe he’s trying to close the Sorrow’s Gate with that little crossdresser.”

 

“Oh. Hmm. Right, I tried to take a bite out of him, but it wouldn’t take.” Eichi sounds wistful, almost. “I’m going to have to kill that shitty little brat some day. I thought Wataru would be far more receptive to my return, but I think that cat’s taken him for a ride…why so much protest to the idea of sleeping with Wataru? I think the three of us together would be _very_ fun.”

 

“…Have you been dead so long your brain rotted?” Keito asks, staring at Eichi. “You know he drives me insane, usually on purpose. Why would I want to spend any amount of time around that?”

 

“He’s _beautiful._ ”

 

“My standards are higher than simply that, but thank you for the vote of confidence.”

 

“Ahh, sorry. I forgot, you like it when they’re _fresh_ looking.”

 

“Ew? Could you not think of any better way to put this?”

 

“What, is it inaccurate? Fresh, like fresh meat.”

 

“No, that’s not good or right. That’s…that’s bad, actually. I’m not a predator.”

 

“Demonstrably that is the case. That being said, it’s the same concept. You know I don’t mind if you want to bring that boy along, right?” Eichi says suddenly. “If I’m potentially bringing someone, you can do the same. I’m not a hypocrite.”

 

“No.” The thought of Mao under Eichi’s control again is enough to make Keito’s skin crawl. “He hates you. Better to leave him here, start over fresh.”

 

“Eh. He’s been brainwashed for years. But if you say so,” Eichi says with a dismissive shrug, snuggling down into the mattress. “Let it be known I was being _very_ generous.”

 

Keito relaxes a little, and slumps back against the wall, head thunking gently onto it. “He’s getting over you,” he says softly. “Your bond was broken. You did a good thing, saving him. You let him go, right? To save him? You should leave it like that.”

 

“No.” The response is very calm, but _very_ resolute, and Eichi’s eyes fix on the ceiling, narrowed and focused. “I broke our bond to save him. That doesn’t mean he isn’t still mine. Even with our bond broken, he could still feel me—I could still reach him—but then Rei…hmph. It’s fine, he wouldn’t’ve told you, so I understand why you’re skeptical. Tries to play the role of a benevolent ruler but he’s just as bad as everyone says _I_ was, you know? He has Leo underneath his thrall. That’s why it _looks_ like Leo’s gotten over it.”

 

It feels, more than anything else, like Keito’s heart simply stops for a moment, all the blood in his veins gone cold. “No. He wouldn’t do that.” His voice rings with absolute certainty. “Rei has done a lot…a _lot_ of things, but he wouldn’t take a thrall. He’s not that kind of a demon.”

 

Eichi sighs, the sound long and sympathetic. “Of course he is. He’s a gross little mix of every demon breed that _loves_ keeping pets. Damned hoarders, all of them.”

 

Keito glares at him, and shakes his head. “You want to believe that, right? I’m telling you, though, Rei wouldn’t do that. I think…I hate to say it, but I think you’re making it up, because you can’t stand that Leo’s moved on. It was touch-and-go for a while, but the last few years, he’s been much better. Vibrant, healthy, powerful. A very good king.”

 

“I’m telling you, he’s under Rei’s thrall! I can feel it, damn you!”

 

The sudden vehemence behind Eichi’s words is backed by the nearest window ripping open as if a gale-force wind slammed into it, and he sits up, eyes dark, face twisted. “I would know,” he lowly says. “You keep saying I was dead, but only this _body_ was dead. I could feel him as if I was alive, my magic was still alive _on_ him, and then that shitty excuse for a _Demon King_ took him from me.”

 

Keito doesn’t flinch when the window flies open—well, much. Well, perhaps flailing and yelping is a _bit_ much, but he gets it under control before too long. “Don’t do that!” he hisses, jumping up from the bed to grab his papers, whirling around. “Even if it felt like that, Rei’s been spending time with a Paladin. Wouldn’t he have done something about that?”

 

Eichi sneers at that, immediately dismissive. “What, the High Harbor one? He’s fucking that one. I think we both know what happens to whoever Rei fucks.”

 

Keito opens his mouth, then shuts it, pursing his lips. “What does it feel like?” he asks, because inciting more wrath right now isn’t what he wants to do. “To have the bond snatched away like that.”

 

“Like someone’s stepping on my chest.” The words are more honest than Eichi would like them to be. The problem now is that he’s angry, no matter how his voice is lower, calmer. “Like someone’s kicked me in the stomach, and all the breath’s gone from my lungs. Like all of my senses are gone, and all that’s left is that horrible, achy tingling like when you’ve let your legs fall asleep where it’s been cut off.”

 

Keito chews his own lips, feeling guilt steal through his body for an entirely different reason. He’d always been so glad that Mao couldn’t feel his bond with Ritsu, but… “What did it feel like,” he asks at last, desperately not wanting to, “when someone else touched him, before Rei…intervened?”

 

Eichi’s head cocks, the question strange to him, in the context of the conversation. “Before I ‘died’, or after? Before, it wasn’t an issue. He couldn’t, when he finally felt our bond. After, I could tell he was with someone else, but it didn’t…bother me, necessarily. Use the words—Rei _thralled him_ , no matter how you don’t want to believe it.”

 

“The concept turns my stomach,” Keito admits. “He—look, he _can’t_ have, I know you think you know what you feel, but this is _Rei_ we’re talking about.”

 

Eichi pauses, leaning back for a moment before suddenly prowling closer to the edge of the bed, eyes slitting in the dim light. “You think so highly of him,” he murmurs. “I always _warned_ you about him. You never truly realized why, did you?”

 

“Because he’s your enemy,” Keito says, feeling very old, very tired, and very _dry_ inside, like an autumn leaf that will make a satisfying crackle when stepped on. “Because he’s one of the only beings in history strong enough to defeat you. Because you wanted me to yourself. Because he never listened to you. Pick one.”

 

“Because Leo isn’t the only one he’s taken as his own. He ate up _your_ boy before he even had a chance to nibble on you, and you didn’t even realize.”

 

“My boy?” Keito demands. “I don’t even…what, Mao? He’s not eaten. Rei is a sex wizard, what is he supposed to do?”

 

“Idiot. He’s under Rei’s thrall, too.” Eichi sympathetically reaches out, patting Keito’s cheek. “I know, I know. I didn’t realize, either, until it was too late. But now it’s so _obvious_ —he’s always been this way, you see.”

 

“Bullshit!” Keito pushes his chair back from the desk so hard it falls over, spots of color high in his cheeks, eyes flashing. “He’s not. He’s not, he’s his own person, he makes his own decisions!” _It would make more sense that way,_ a voice in his mind whispers. _You’ve worried before that Mao is with you because Rei thought it would make loose ends neat. How sure are you that you’re not under his thrall, too?_

 

Eichi sighs, shaking his head as he leans back again, pushing his hair back over his bare shoulders. “Keito, you’ve always been so eagerly blinded by Rei. He’s been like this for as long as I can remember. It should be no surprise that he’d take a child that hated me and use that hate to create a powerful enough thrall that even I couldn’t sense it; Rei himself has never liked me, has _hated_ me, and yet he crawled into my bed as swiftly as he did yours, just because he knew the power he could garner from it. Why are you so willing to take his word over mine?”

 

“You’re just guessing.” Keito’s words sound hollow, even to his own ears. “Tell me. You’re just guessing, right? There’s no way you could see all that. Seeing bonds, that’s not something you’ve ever been good at.”

 

“Thralls aren’t bonds.” Eichi’s fingers swiftly, distractedly work to braid his hair before he flips it over his shoulders, head tilting to the side as he watches Keito. “Thralls are the bread and butter of Archdemons. Who do you think created them as an _art?_ ”

 

“You’ve made thralls.” Keito knows that much. He might still, after all this time, be an utter idiot, but he’d like to think he isn’t actually blind. “You’ve done more than that. You should be embracing him as a brother, shouldn’t you?”

 

Eichi snorts. “His work is like a mangy little rat’s compared to my kind’s,” he coldly says. “Just because two creatures can work similar magic doesn’t mean we’re brothers. And he took my _mate._ I’ve toyed with his, I’ll gladly admit that, but I never _thralled_ him.”

 

“So why haven’t you?” Keito asks, and is surprised to find that his own tone is curious, more than anything. “I’ve almost never heard of you thralling anyone, except in histories. Why not, if you’re so good at it?”

 

“It _does_ take the fun out of it, when someone is obligated to bend a knee to you,” Eichi sniffs. “But you’re right, maybe I should. An eye for an eye.”

 

“That’s a stupid saying. Why take someone’s eye, you’re not a Sandlands witch. And then you’d be half blind, and so would he, that’s dumb. Where did you even hear something like that?”

 

“I don’t know, but now I’m thinking about how fun it would be to put that little bitch under a proper thrall.”

 

“That is so typical of you!” Keito snaps, wadding up a piece of scrap paper and hurling it at Eichi. “Oh, listen to me, I know better than anyone and that guy is _despicable_ , he’s done the worst things possible, always hate him for it, now I’m going to do the same thing! Do you even listen to yourself? What happened to just running away with me?”

 

Eichi blinks as the paper bounces off of his shoulder harmlessly. “Well. You told me I was lying about Rei, and I had to make a point that I wasn’t. And now you’ve reminded me that he deserves to suffer for what he’s done, so this is really your fault. Wouldn’t it be fun, exposing all of this? He’d be put on trial—no, maybe even executed for thralling the king—it really would be the best way to take power back, I think.”

 

“That doesn’t sound like fun at all!” Keito drags a hand down his face, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. “I’ve spent my whole life—most of it under _your_ direction, mind you, or in your service—trying to bring some kind of stability to this country. It’s stable now. So let’s _go_ the way you said we could, I don’t want to talk about it anymore!”

 

“ _After_ I speak to Leo, just like I said I would.” Eichi hauls himself to his feet, unconcerned about his nudity as he strides across the room and straight to Keito’s wardrobe. “I’m borrowing some of your things. Oh, did you keep my cloak? Or did they make you burn it?”

 

Keito waves a helpless hand. “No one else wanted it, I think I have it in storage in the shed out back. Walk out there and scandalize my neighbors, why don’t you?”

 

“Mm, they’ll wonder where you found such a beautiful live-in angel, I’ll bet. Oh, this was definitely mine,” Eichi hums, tugging out a familiar tunic. “I really should’ve tried to come back through you first, I would’ve been here so muuuuch faster.”

 

“But Wataru would have indulged you,” Keito points out. “And I won’t just blindly follow you.” _I mean. I will. But you like me to pretend that I won’t, and it does at least a little to soothe my pride._

 

“I tried.” The admission is quiet as Eichi dresses, deciding decency is _probably_ for the best. “That whore prophet beat me back. Honestly? I didn’t want to burden you.”

 

“Yes, you’ve always done such a good job at not burdening me.” Keito’s voice is dry, and he removes a blank sheet of paper from a drawer, settling back down at the desk and drawing out a quill. “Could you…give me privacy for just a moment? I want to leave him a note.”

 

Eichi eyes him for a moment, then shrugs, heading to the bedroom door. “By all means. I’m going to go dig out my cloak.”

 

It takes longer than Keito wants. By the end of it, his eyes are red, his stomach churning, nose dripping, though not onto the paper. It’s fine as long as he doesn’t think about anything specific, and just thinks in broad terms. Broadly, he’s leaving a part-time lover. Broadly, he’s doing what he must.

 

Specifically, Mao’s hands are soft on his face, his cheeky grin insouciant, his eyes sparkling, his hair artfully askew after a too-late night and too-early morning, his determination is a delight, his intelligence is a credit, his heart is…

 

No. Best to think broadly, or he’ll never get through this. Best to think broadly, or he’ll never manage to go.

 

 

_Ever since we first started this affair, we both had to know it would end._

_In the end, it’s for the best for both of us, especially for you. You’re too young for me, too much more than what I deserve._

_Cheer up, though. It’s possible we’ll see each other again, even in this life._

_Head up. I didn’t raise you to sulk and worry and spend your life complaining. Or perhaps I did. I was never the best guardian, as you know well._

_I am leaving you, at the end of the day. Go back to your bonded. He must miss you dreadfully._

_If you miss any of the scrolls and books I’ve left, check the trunks in the shed. The locks should open for your signature. I designed it that way. Maybe deep down, I’ve always known this day would come._

_Solitude isn’t for you. Go to him, stop pretending. You’ll only both be hurt in the end._

_But of course, I don’t expect that you won’t tell Rei about this. Do as you must._

_And if he wants to contact me, I’m planning to head south. Much of the slave trade still exists there, and my memories of those days haunt me still._

_Check in on the King, from time to time, but try to live your own life. Even if you find it difficult, it’s worth doing._

_Kings may come and go, but this one is a good one. Even so, live your own life. Don’t let him do it for you, and don’t let Rei, either. But I suppose I can’t really tell you what to do anymore. Not that you ever listened to me._

 

_Work on your calligraphy. Drink more water. Don’t neglect Runes. Forget me, if you want. You’ll always be in my heart, but I understand that I have no claim on you after this. Don’t look for any_ **_other meaning_ ** _in my letter. I am leaving you._

 

_Goodbye._

 

_Keito_

 

“We can go now,” Keito says softly, knowing Eichi hovers in the doorway by now, and rolls up the letter, sealing it with his magic, keyed to one of the charms Mao always wears, and tucks it under the paperweight. “Let me just get a spare shirt.”

 

“If you change your mind,” Eichi casually says from the doorway, huddled beneath his familiar gold-trimmed, heavy white cloak that seems as spotless as the day he had died, “you can always come back for him. I wouldn’t stop you.”

 

“I know you wouldn’t.” Keito stuffs a shirt and another pair of trousers into a case, hands trembling only a little. “I hope I’d stop myself, he doesn’t belong on that kind of…no. He can go back to his bonded, and you and I will go down and reform the Sandlands.”

 

“Since when has he has a bonded, anyway?” Eichi grouses, folding his arms over his chest. “I don’t remember that. I feel like I would’ve.”

 

“Well, it’s none of your business, so I don’t see why you would have.” Keito shoulders his bag, and refuses to look around the homey little house they’d shared for years, between missions. He picks up his emergency case of potions, stones, and herbs for casting magic, and slings that over the other shoulder. It’s not his first time leaving in a hurry. “Don’t suppose you brought a carriage and pair of horses back from hell?”

 

“Nope,” Eichi cheerfully says. “But I can probably turn some bugs into horses temporarily. No guarantees on how pretty they’d be, though. Or we can take chances with teleporting—my magic is still a bit weak in this world, so the effectiveness of that is questionable. Who is he bonded to?”

 

“None of your business, stop talking about him.” The words come out harsher than Keito wants, but he has a headache, and not looking back is making his neck hurt. “Bug horses are fine, but can you turn a walnut into a coach, like the fairy tale?”

 

Eichi’s mouth purses, but he shuts up all the same, following after with a long-suffering sigh. “Ooh, it’s been awhile, but I can try. How far are you from the Capital?”

 

“About a day. Far enough that no one can call us in for stupid little jobs, close enough that an urgent message can bring us in before anything big is over. Forget it, don’t worry. I don’t need a carriage, if your magic isn’t up to it.” Keito does _not_ want to ride today, so that should do the trick.

 

Eichi huffs, straightening his shoulders in spite of how that makes his breath want to shorten in his chest even more. “To hell with that, I’ll show you why fairy tales were written about me,” he sniffs, striding ahead of him. “A walnut and a pair of beetles are all I need.”

 

“Seriously? If you could actually pull that off, I’d be impressed,” Keito says, with a carefully-calculated amount of skepticism in his voice.

 

“You stand behind someone like _Rei_ , and yet you doubt _my_ magic? Never mind, stay here, I don’t want you.”

 

“You’re rusty! You’ve been dead!”

 

“You almost sound worried. Are you afraid I’m going to keel over?”

 

Eichi kicks at the ground, stirring falling leaves and watching insects scuttle away by the light of the moon, annoyed at being disturbed. He stoops quickly, snatching up a pair of wriggly creepy-crawlies, gently holding them between thumb and forefinger. A deep breath, and the wave of magic that overtakes them is brilliantly gold, glittering in the darkness, reforming the two six-legged bugs into decidedly normal looking brown horses that stomp and snort, unsettled but still obviously obedient of their new master-apparent. “Do you even _have_ a walnut?” Eichi mildly asks, looking over his shoulder at Keito, cheeks flushed from the rush of using magic so freely after so long imprisoned.

 

Keito’s eyes widen in entirely unfeigned wonder as he walks around one of the horses, running a careful, questing finger down the beast’s back. “He’s so…ordinary-looking. Ritsu had one straight from the Shadowlands, with razor teeth and red eyes, I was sort of expecting that. This is…more amazing. Incredible.”

 

Eichi spreads his hands with an exaggerated shrug. “What more can you expect from half-breeds? They can’t truly create, only control. I’m getting the feeling there’s a _terrible_ misconception about my kind in particular these days…what a shame. Aww, look, he likes you,” he adds, as the beetle-turned-horse noses at Keito’s pocket, just like any normal horse would in search of a treat.

 

A corner of Keito’s mouth twitches up. “I haven’t got anything for you,” he says softly, and pats the horse’s forelock. “Good lad. Wait. Boy? Girl? You didn’t give us _stallions_ , did you?”

 

“They were bugs,” Eichi wryly points out. “If they’re male, I doubt they’ve been castrated. Unless bugs do that? Hmm. Anyway, a walnut, a walnut…or something like it, I don’t want to _ride_ , I want a good sleep on Keito’s lap on the way to the Capital~…”

 

A moment’s worth of rummaging about in the fallen leaves and sticks produces a partially cracked walnut shell, tossed there undoubtedly by some bird trying to strike it against the stone pathway up to the cottage. Eichi tosses it into the air, watching it gleam golden in the moonlight before touching down onto the ground again as a perfectly serviceable carriage.

 

Well. He mostly watches it, before the world spins out from underneath him, and he passes out in a dead faint.

 

Coming to in a bunch of leaves with the cold night air being pulled into his lungs is less than pleasant, but at least it isn’t in unending darkness. Eichi stares up at the sky blearily, straining to draw in a full breath. “That,” he wheezes, “is all the magic you get from me tonight.”

 

Part of the reason Keito has been so sore lately might surprise Eichi. At least, it might surprise him when Keito leans down and scoops him up in both arms, lifting him with only a slight grunt of effort, then tucking him into the coach. “Try to get some sleep,” he says, softly, more softly than he would if he were sure Eichi were awake. “I’ll steer.”

 

And with that, he climbs up onto the coachman’s seat, gathering the newly-minted reins and giving them a swift tap.

 

~

 

The Capital should be an oasis at this point, or so Hiyori has promised him.

 

Moodily, Eichi remembers that Hiyori isn’t exactly a fantastic source of information. He recalls this sort of groggily, when he wakes just outside of the Capital walls, and _feels_ that he isn’t welcome.

 

It’s an instant headache. Eichi growls, forcing himself to sit up, no matter how it makes his head spin, and he shoves open the carriage window. “Do you feel that?” he crossly calls to Keito, knowing very well that Keito doesn’t, and it’s something meant to deter—well, if not him specifically, creatures _like_ him.

 

“The horses?” Keito calls down, trying to hide how much he’d jumped when Eichi had first spoken. “They’ve been restless for a few minutes. The Capital’s only a few minutes away. Are you sure you haven’t just changed your mind about this? We can turn back and head for the Sandlands.”

 

“No. No, I’m not turning back, to hell with that,” Eichi grouses, raking a hand back through his hair as he feels himself break into a cold sweat. “But something isn’t right. This whole horse and carriage thing is definitely about to dissolve, fair warning.”

 

“…If it’s about to dissolve, shouldn’t we—“

 

That’s all Keito has time to say before he’s suddenly tumbling through the air, toppling down to land on the road with a sick crunch in his shoulder. Stunned, numbly, he lays still, all of the wind knocked out of him. When he can speak, he says, voice sounding hollow and faint in his own ear, “I think something’s quite wrong, actually. In my, ah, arm.”

 

Eichi growls from where he picks himself up from the dirt road, decidedly still dizzy, but now somewhat bruised from falling out of a now non-existent walnut carriage. “There’s something wrong _everywhere_ here,” he crossly says, brushing himself off after a pointed sway, and strides over to Keito in spite of the pounding in his temples that now won’t subside. “I’m no healer, but I can numb it. Can you sit up?”

 

Pain makes Keito’s head spin, and he catches himself from fainting by sheer grit. He pushes himself up with his left arm, the right one hanging stupidly, sickly at his side, managing to sit up. He looks down at it, disgusted. “This is so stupid. Just leave me by the side of the road, I’m too old and useless for adventures. Oh. I’m going to—“

 

He lurches to the side as the pain surges, and vomits pathetically into a bush. _I bet I’m allergic to that damn bush, too. Just my luck._

 

“Yes, yes, that’s very good,” Eichi impatiently says, setting a hand to Keito’s back. From his touch radiates a cool, numbing sensation, hopefully taking the edge off of the pain of a broken arm. “It’s better to think of this as a good thing. Now that you’re injured, they’ll see _me_ as less of a threat, and probably let me in past…whatever barrier they’ve got around this place.”

 

“Glad to help,” Keito groans, and hauls himself up to standing, gagging a little at the residual taste in his mouth. “What barrier are you talking about? Is it a magic thing? Why would Rei do that, he can’t possibly know you’re back already.” _Unless Mao already found and deciphered that note, already contacted his master._ Keito isn’t sure how he feels about that, now that he’s caught up in all of it.

 

“Preventative, is my guess,” Eichi sourly says, folding his arms across his chest as he looks off down the path towards the Capital walls. “It wasn’t put there by a wizard, though; I can feel that much. Rei probably assumed if I did return, I could take that down. I suppose Hiyori has carved a little doorway somewhere; otherwise he’d be completely stuck in the Capital, and that wouldn’t do.”

 

Keito frowns, thinking. “He’s been in the Capital for months, though. If it went up after he came in, and he didn’t leave, he wouldn’t even know it was there, right?”

 

“Any Archdemon with half a brain could feel this,” Eichi says, then he pauses, heaving a sigh. “Which means you’re probably right, and he has no idea. How delightful. Then you’re going to be useful—I mean, helpful, and go in for me first.”

 

“And beg for help from healers?” Keito asks hopefully, watching his arm flop uselessly. “No offense, you’re definitely good at some magic, but you’re not very good at numbing.”

 

“Beg all you want and get your arm fixed, but you have to actually summon me into the Capital, or I can’t go inside.” Eichi sniffs. “If you’re lucky, maybe that half-breed Leo’s so fond of is around.”

 

Keito looks skeptically at him. “How do I summon you? I’ve never done that before. Eichi, maybe this is a sign, let’s just go South.”

 

Eichi bristles visibly. “ _You_ go South,” he bites out irritably, striding past him in a huff. “If you don’t want to even try, to hell with you, then. Run back to your pet.”

 

“You two there! What are you doing on the King’s road?”

 

The voice is familiar enough that it does make Eichi pause, and he stops, turning back towards it. Lord Tsukasa of the Suou family, perfectly perched on his mount, stares them down amidst his small hunting party, until recognition quickly flashes across his face, and then turns to wary, stressed shock, obviously not wanting to believe what he sees. “…Keito, sir,” he manages stiffly instead, certain his eyes are playing tricks upon him. “Are you injured?”

 

 _Take control immediately,_ Keito’s instinct tells him, _or this will turn very, very bad for everyone._ Tsukasa is a good boy. He doesn’t deserve to get caught up in any of this nonsense. At least for the moment, Eichi is exhausted and not high-strung. He draws himself up, and presents his arm. “As you can see, I require medical attention,” he says, taking a step forward. His shoe crunches on something, and he winces. So much for his noble steed.

 

“…Indeed,” Tsukasa warily says, his eyes flickering back towards Eichi—or who he is so _very_ certain is Eichi, but how could it be? And if it _is_ somehow Eichi, it’s unusual that he isn’t much more inclined to stride into the Capital, magic blazing. “And your…friend?”

 

Oh, gods. Keito is _not_ good at making up stories on the fly, it’s the kind of thing he takes the time to do at home, in his study, sketching out plots and backstories in his notebooks. “He’s…an Enhanced I’m training,” he says, hoping to bluff his way through it. “A rather weak one, but with some skills at deciphering. And shapeshifting and concealment. He’s tried something quite stupid right now, but that’s none of your business. It’s a disguise, you see.” Hopefully, Tsukasa won’t notice the way his story had started to develop mid-sentence.

 

Tsukasa’s stare doesn’t move beyond skeptical. “A disguise,” he calmly says, his eyes narrowed as he looks over Keito’s supposed Enhanced in training. “Well. It’s a disguise many would find disturbing within the Capital, so if he doesn’t want to be left out here, he should change back to his natural form.”

 

Eichi heaves a sigh. Well, Keito certainly did try. “It’s fine, Keito,” he says with a little shrug, and glances up at Tsukasa, a smile slowly curving his lips. “There’s not much that could hide what I am. Lord Tsukasa, it’s been some time—how is my precious Tori doing these days?”

 

Tsukasa’s mouth twists in spite of how he struggles to keep his face impassive, and he jerks his head back to his men. “Take them both into custody—be careful with the Enhanced, and give him the medical attention he needs. Don’t let the King hear of this.”

 

Keito sighs, and looks over at Eichi. “At least it’ll get you into the city,” he mutters under his breath. “Tsukasa, I suppose it’s out of the question to ask you to keep this from getting back to Mao? At least don’t tell him I fell down and broke my arm.”

 

“This will be reported to the proper channels,” Tsukasa shortly says, struggling to bite his tongue for a moment more as Eichi almost cheerfully submits to having his hands tied. “Why?” he finally settles upon, his eyes locked on Keito. “I don’t know _how_ he’s here, but—why are you here with him? _Helping_ him?”

 

“Honestly, that should be obvious,” Eichi mildly says. “We wizards have a _way_ about us, I think. You should know—“

 

Tsukasa twitches. “Don’t take him into the city. Take him to Madara.”

 

Eichi freezes, his expression suddenly twisting to something dark. “ _Who?_ ”

 

Keito’s face goes white, and he struggles against the man holding his good shoulder, then immediately stops when the pain makes little explosions go off behind his eyes. “Don’t—Tsukasa, you don’t know what you’re doing, you _idiot_ , if you were going to do that, don’t _tell him_ —“

 

“Why shouldn’t I? It’s not like he can do anything,” Tsukasa archly says, yanking his horse around when the animal nearly bounces in place, uninterested in remaining still for any longer. “Or else he would’ve entered the Capital on his own accord. Am I wrong?”

 

That _does_ make everything make a great deal more sense—in the worst of ways, unfortunately. Eichi swiftly rips away from the men holding him, though to no avail; even that much of a struggle, combined with the pounding in his head, the trembly weakness that comes with being so completely drained of magic, makes his legs wobble, his breath coming short as he sways, stumbling back uselessly.

 

“…As I said, take him to Madara, and Keito—once you’ve been treated, sir, you’ll explain yourself to the king directly,” Tsukasa quietly says.

 

Keito’s face is pained, not from his arm, but from the idea. There doesn’t, however, seem to be a damn thing he can do to warn Tsukasa not to let the fucking king see Eichi, so he just slumps down. “I told you we should have just gone to the Sandlands,” he hisses to Eichi. “This is all your fault. Remember that next time you ignore me!”

 

Eichi scowls at him as viciously as he can manage, scarcely resisting the urge to lean over and shove Keito’s stupid injured shoulder as they’re marched along behind the horses. “I’ll keep that in mind whenever _you_ end up bonded to a wizard and they want to seek _you_ out above all costs,” he hisses back. “If you get to talk to Leo, I swear to the gods, if you don’t paint me in the most _desirable light_ you’ve ever fucking seen—“

 

Keito snarls, and manages to snidely snap, “I doubt any light will be desirable enough to sway _Madara_. Why do you _always_ want to get me into trouble? If I ever do get a bond, I’ll just die.”

 

“If you do your job and actually tell Leo I’m not here to _destroy the world_ as long as I can just bloody talk to him, then maybe that dragon will keep his claws to himself!”

 

“Keep your voices down, please,” Tsukasa tosses back over his shoulder, stopping short of the short pathway that leads straight to the Capital gates. He dismounts, passing off the reins to his horse to one of his men, and strides off the path to what Eichi, bitterly, recognizes as something of an _offering_ circle within a clearing

 

Keito clears his throat, sweating as magic starts to swirl, and elbows the nearest guard in the side. “I’m to see the king, right? Not the dragon. Just pointing out. I’m to be taken to the king. Not the dragon. The dragon is for _him_.”

 

The magic coalesces into the casually nude figure of a muscular young man, stretching his arms above his head. Slit-pupiled green eyes flick open, and the man grins. “Hi, little one. You know I’m just a few big houses away, is there a reason you couldn’t—“

 

His eyes flick to the side, and a second set of eyelids flicks to cover his pupils for a moment, a not-entirely-kind smile spreading over his face. “Oh,” he says softly, and pats Tsukasa on the shoulder, so hard the young man stumbles. “Never mind, you did good, kid. Hello, Prince of Darkness.”

 

 

The hissing sound that leaves Eichi’s throat is far more at home with some wild animal stuck in a trap than anyone clad within a human form. The man holding onto his shoulder tightens his grip for all of a moment before withdrawing his hand with a yelp, the strange, static shock of defensive magic crackling just over Eichi’s skin too painful for a human to hold onto. “ _You—_ why are you even _here?_ ” 

 

“I’m sure you can take it from here, Milord,” Tsukasa says, forcing himself to turn away. Keeping himself neutral when it comes to the previous Emperor has never exactly been easy, and this situation makes it even more difficult.

 

 

Keito grabs Tsukasa’s arm with his good hand as he passes, squeezing firmly. “Take me to the king now,” he hisses. “While he’s distracted, I have to warn him.”

 

Madara simply grins. “A friend called for me. Guess he was right. Ah, this might be fun. I was planning just to banish you, but I’m feeling the desire to fly you somewhere deserted and really let it all out. I heard about what you were up to while I was sleeping. Naughty, naughty.”

 

 

“ _Warn_  him?” Tsukasa huffs, pulling his arm away and swinging himself back up into his horse’s saddle. “You wanted nothing to do with that just a moment ago.” 

 

“What business is it of yours what I did?” Eichi snaps back, so visibly on edge that he almost resembles a cat with its back arched high. “Are you really so bored that you’ve taken to following Rei’s whims? There’s no _banishment_  that you or he could do to truly toss me out of this world, you stupid lizard.”

 

That sounds like too much of a challenge to give someone like Madara. Tsukasa grimaces, and jerks his head, urging his men to hurry Keito along. “We’re going straight to the king, regardless,” he mutters.

 

 

“Like I would say everything I wanted to in front of him!” Keito hisses, once they’re safely out of earshot. “Did it seriously never occur to you that I was a hostage? You find a clearly injured man with a known monster demon, and that doesn’t even occur to you? He could have flattened your whole party in a heartbeat, I didn’t know you had a dragon!” Yes, yes, this could work. Maybe. He’s still not _entirely_ sure what he’s doing, just running as fast as he can.

 

Madara laughs, and flicks out a tendril of magic to hit Eichi in the back, knocking him down to the ground at Madara’s feet. “You aren’t what you used to be, though, are you? What did it cost you, to crawl out of that hole? You left my favorite guy pretty torn up, you know.” He squats down, bringing his face closer to Eichi’s. “I was hoping I’d get to talk to you about that.”

 

 

Eichi bares his teeth, stifling a reflexive cough that wants to well up into his chest for a moment before it comes up anyway, leaving him to spit blood onto the ground with a heaving breath to follow. “Which favorite is that?” he lowly asks, eyes slitted as he forces himself up onto his bound hands. “I left a number of people in a sorry state. If you want apology, go fuck yourself.” 

 

 

“If you don’t think the king is important enough to remember,” Madara says, still grinning, “I won’t even bother showing him what’s left of you, when I’m done. So? Want to give up now? Or should we move somewhere wide open?”

 

 

_The king?_

 

Eichi’s eyes flash, and the harsh flare of his magic disintegrates the rope binding his wrists before he lunges, talon-like nails at Madara’s throat in an instant. His eyes, instead of their usual sky blue, are as black as night from his blown pupils. “If you touched him,” he hisses, “I’ll tear your throat out. ‘Your favorite’ my ass—he’s _mine._ ” 

 

 

Madara might be in human form, but his scales lurk beneath the surface, a magical construct more than a physical one, and his skin turns Eichi’s nails with a spark and a hiss, sounding like a match’s strike. “He can do whatever he wants, you dead shadownsake,” he says, eyes glittering like emeralds, taking a step forward that cracks the earth around it, as if he weighs a thousand times what his human form looks like. Green light shines eerily around the cracks, more with every step. “Humans aren’t property.”

 

 

Eichi scrambles back, chest heaving as he shakes out his hand, the searing burn that runs across his flesh from just being exposed to Madara’s magic making his fingers tremble. “You’re misunderstanding me,” he coldly says, trying to keep his voice steady when he’s angry enough that he _does_  just want to throw a fit and scream in the face of this gross _lizard_  thing. “He’s mine. He’s my _mate_. Maybe you can’t understand, but that’s not my problem. I just want to _talk_  to him, damn it!” 

 

 

Madara shrugs. “I don’t want you to talk to him, though? So you won’t. It’s pretty easy to understand. The only way in there,” he says, jerking his thumb back at the Capitol, “is through me. And I don’t think you’re up to it. No hard feelings.”

 

 

“Who suddenly appointed you as his bodyguard?” Eichi snaps, his magic flaring out behind him in frustration, highly resembling enormous white, feathery wings as a result. “You’re a dragon, damn it. You don’t even need to be in this world, let alone living so close to humans—you _know_  you’re only going to end up hurting him, stop wasting your time and give him to me. You have no claim over him, _I_  do.” 

 

 

“Are we going to take to the skies?” Madara asks, still grinning. “It’s been a few weeks since I got to stretch. The king gets bored inside, you know. Sometimes we have to fly about. I’d love to show you some of the places we’ve gone. It’ll be a great last sight for you.” _Just because you’re right doesn’t mean you get to win. You’re right about me, not about him._

 

 

“Don’t you think you should let _him_  make the choice of rejecting me? If he does, I’ll leave.” The words still make him feel hollow, especially when said to someone that isn’t Keito, someone who he’d so much rather lie to. “That’s why I came here. You don’t have to believe me, but do you _really_  think I want to start a fight when I’m as weak as I am?” 

 

 

Madara laughs, and a nearby tree shivers, and releases many of its leaves onto the ground. “How could I believe you’d do the smart thing, when you didn’t turn back at my barrier? Or your word that you’d leave if he chose it?”

 

 

“I’ll swear to it, if I have to.” It’s worth swallowing his pride, even to this shitty dragon. “Whatever you want me to swear on, I will. I _just_  want to speak to him.” Eichi’s lips purse. “You’re not protecting him by keeping me from him like this. He’s going to know I’m here soon enough.” 

 

 

Unfortunately, Eichi isn’t wrong. Madara’s eyes narrow, and he releases some of his power, holding out a hand, palm-up. “Give me some of your blood, and swear on that. I’ll tell you the old words, if you remember them. If you do a Lashing spell, I’ll let you speak to him uninterrupted.”

 

 

Eichi doesn’t hesitate in plucking a glowing white feather from his own wings, slicing open his arm in short order and letting the blood drip onto Madara’s palm unhindered. In any normal circumstance, he’d _never_  offer up something like this to a dragon, but need’s must, damn it. “I swear,” he flatly says. “I’m only here to speak to the king. Any spells you want me to cast, I will. Just—let me speak to him.” 

 

 

The blood pools in Madara’s palm, as if the entire thing is slicked with oil, forming a small puddle in the center. “Say it in the old tongue, if you know it.” The blood starts to shimmer with white light. “Say you’ll use no magic on him, and if the king tells you to leave, you’ll never seek him out again. Say that you’ll not use any spell, any trick, or any coercion to sway his choice. End it by swearing to the progenitors.”

 

 

A muscle in Eichi’s jaw twitches. “…I swear,” he quietly begins again, the old tongue of their ancient races falling from his tongue effortlessly, because he resents the implication that _he doesn’t know it_ , “that I’ll use no magic on the king, and if I’m asked to leave, I will. And I won’t…seek him out again.” Eichi’s eyes flick up, meeting Madara’s resentfully. “I won’t use spells, or tricks—but the very nature of bonds can be called _coercion._  I can’t help that.” 

 

 

“No threats, then,” Madara allows. “To him, yourself, or others. Your accent is pretty good. Weird, though, where are you _from_?”

 

 

“Fine. No threats. I swear. And I swear to the progenitors, whatever. Also, fuck you.” 

 

 

Madara closes his fist, and the air shivers. He beams, and when he opens his hand again, it’s empty. “They don’t like being lied to,” he says cheerfully. “So keep that in mind. I’ve been their enforcer, before, when people didn’t follow through. Ah, those were the days, a man could really spread his wings, back then.” 

 

He looks back over his shoulder, and spies the approaching soldiers, around one familiar, short orange head. “Make yourself look presentable, now. And don’t forget your promise.”

 

 

“Remind me again, and I—“ Eichi cuts himself short, hissing through his teeth. Does not making threats extend to Madara? How unfortunate. He doesn’t bother trying all the same, and irritably shuts his mouth, pulling his sleeve down over the slice on his arm and straightening to his full height, refusing to look as if he’d just gotten into a scuffle with an obnoxious lizard. Rei’s scent fills the air, which is the _last_  thing that Eichi wants. Regardless of a broken bond, he’d expected to feel… _something_  that wasn’t Rei. _Anything_ , anything would be fine. 

 

“Just this way, Your Majesty.” It’s Tsukasa again, stone-faced and rigid-backed, though the sight of Madara still present, and Eichi still in one piece obviously makes him relax. Eichi supposes he feels sorry for the brat, but only slightly, when Tsukasa _did_  take the side of those that brought down his reign.

 

 

Leo holds up a hand, and the men surrounding him fall back. He stands taller than Eichi would remember, shoulders more square, chin held higher, voice more confident as he orders, “Fall back. I’ll talk to him alone.” 

 

Only his eyes reveal the storm thundering inside of himself, and the way his heart slams forward and back in his ribcage as if desperate to escape. 

 

He strides forward, and no one tries to put a hand on his shoulder, patronizing, gently concerned. No one has done that for a while, now. He draws himself up, looking up at Eichi, a small hard crystal digging into his hand in his pocket. “Hello.”

 

 

_Just talk, just talk, just talk._

 

It’s difficult to stay standing when clinging to that mantra, so Eichi doesn’t bother. 

 

Dreams of grandly sweeping in, convincing Leo that he’s the _only_  choice, proving it with his words, his body, his _magic_ , are just that—dreams. Eichi says nothing as he drops to one knee, kneeling at Leo’s feet. “Your Majesty.” The wings at his back fold, then dissipate to nothing in a short flare of white, a visual representation of his magic being tucked away. “It’s been…a long time.”

 

 

Leo trembles down to his soul.

 

It doesn’t feel like it had before. That was what he had been afraid of. Now that he knows, a part of him longs for how it was, before Eichi had given him that _look_ and snapped a finger, leaving him bereft, raw, and alone forever. “Eichi,” he says, voice quiet. “So, ah…how does that work? Are you still alive, or alive again?” What does he say? The questions he has have no answers, the curses he has have no words.

 

 

Eichi lifts his head, a smile on his lips. “This body is alive again,” he supplies. “I’m as alive as I can be, all things considered. The look on your face says you’d rather I not be.” It’s said flippantly, but Eichi reaches up all the same, holding out his hand in offering. “But I’m here, all the same. You look…well.” 

 

 

 _“Don’t take his hand, idiot!”_ The voice in Leo’s head sounds like Izumi, but Leo is the king, and Madara is at his side. What does he have to fear? He extends his hand, and helps Eichi back up to his feet. “On the contrary, I don’t wish you were dead.” The words are starkly honest, as is the searching smile on Leo’s face. “You’re here to make amends, right? We’re glad to have someone of your power and knowledge back on the right side!”

 

Eichi does not expect that _touching_ Leo would feel so… _simple_ now. That’s frustrating, and anti-climatic to boot. Rei’s scent is even stronger like this, and it’s enough to make him grip Leo’s hand tightly, refusing to let go just yet. “You have it in you to think that kindly of me?” Eichi quietly asks, leaning closer. “What if I told you I didn’t come here for that?”

 

Pain spikes through Leo’s expression, and he squeezes Eichi’s hand back just as tightly. “You are,” he says stubbornly, thrusting out his chin. “I know you are. Because if you want to have any kind of a life in my country, you’ll work for the better of all humans. And you do want to have a life here, don’t you?”

 

“I want _you_.” Eichi’s grip switches, and he yanks Leo forward, crushing him into his chest. He buries his face down into that head of bright hair, inhaling deeply when it finally smells like _Leo_ , not like Rei, and his arms tremble as they fasten around Leo’s waist to squeeze him tight. “I clawed my way out of the depths for this,” he whispers. “Don’t turn me away.”

 

Leo’s heart is louder than the rustling of weapons behind him. Slowly, he pulls his other hand out of his pocket, revealing a small, faceted blue crystal. “This is…part of us,” he says softly, letting it rest in his hand. “It crystallized when Rei…did this. I, don’t make me talk about this here, I can’t go back to feeling the way I was, I’d rather die right here. So that’s not going to happen, yeah?” His eyes are feverishly bright, looking up and meeting Eichi’s. “So you’re going to prove yourself to be the man I _know_ you are, deep inside. Because you’re not going to leave me again, are you?”

 

Eichi’s breath stops short for a moment, his gaze hyper-focused on that crystal. His fingers twitch, the urge to touch it welling up so sharp that it’s almost painful, but he clenches his fist, forcibly not letting himself. “If you don’t put that up, I’m probably going to eat it,” he confesses with a ragged laugh. “Leo—you’re asking a lot of me right now, when you’re wrapped up in nothing but Rei. You can’t expect me to answer that or give you straight answers at _all_ when I can smell nothing but the person I hate the most.”

 

Leo shrugs. “You left me ripped open and borderline suicidal,” he says frankly, and tucks the crystal back into his pocket. “Yes. I’m asking a lot of you. Ahahaha, that’s actually wrong!” The sunlight glints off of one of his sharpest teeth, part of what makes him look a little too fey to be entirely human, features of the Royal line. “I’m not asking. I’m telling.”

 

“It was that or have you _die_ ,” Eichi hisses, refusing to loosen his grip. Instead, he links his hands behind Leo’s back, effectively creating a cage with his arms. “You can tell me as much as you like, but you won’t hear a response from me unless I have a private audience with you.”

 

“This is my kingdom!” Leo’s voice rings suddenly clear, and he ducks out from between Eichi’s arms in an eyeblink, straightening up to put his hands on his hips. “You are my _subject_ if you want to live here. And I say, you are the most intelligent, most wise, most powerful of my subjects, and you therefore have the _most_ to _give_ in service. You will have your audience once I have my answer from you!” The last syllable rings off of the nearby city walls, echoing back with absolute finality. Leo is not the weak young man he’d been eight years ago, is _not_ the brand-new king searching for his way.

 

The promise of being alone with Leo, even for a minute, makes him stupid. Eichi knows that. That being said, it isn’t as if what Leo is asking in the first place is far off from what he wants. Admittedly, it’s not the ‘run off together and take over the Sandlands’ sort of fantasy he’d drummed up on the fly to make Keito do what he wanted, but there’s nothing to say it _couldn’t_ be that, eventually. “…You’re right,” Eichi carefully says, folding his arms. “I have no intention of leaving without you again. And I’d gladly lend you my assistance, if that’s what you need. I know those responsible for the Sorrow’s Gates opening.”

 

Leo brightens, and the mood lightens immediately. “Perfect! Wahaha! Right, let’s go have tea! And everyone, give him some deference, he’s just agreed to take responsibility for the closing of all the Sorrow’s Gates! Follow me, then.”

 

And with that, he turns and walks back into the city.

 

“I—“ _Did not say that, I absolutely did not_ —Eichi bites his tongue, and decides, well, _fuck it._ Being able to shoot Madara a smug look is worth every eventual hassle, and he huffs, following after Leo. “You’re still quite the whirlwind, aren’t you,” he sighs. “Ahh, be gentle on me and slow down, I’m a skeleton walking.”

 

“Nonsense, your legs look fantastic!”

 

That’s the last thing Leo says before they disappear into the city, and eventually, into the palace. Finally, eventually, after a bit of negotiation, Madara stands guard (sulking) outside while Leo leads Eichi into his private study.

 

Once inside, Leo turns, shoving both of his hands a bit awkwardly into his pockets. “Well. Hi, I guess. I don’t know what to say.”

 

Eichi sucks in a slow breath, leaning back against the enormous wooden doors for a moment to catch his breath as much as get his bearings about him. It’s strange, because it feels like he’s been here, in this very room, with _Leo_ in the past—but that isn’t really the case, not with this body, only with the remains of his magic, clinging on doggedly.

 

Now if only it didn’t feel like Rei was in the room with them, eyes on them like a damned watchdog.

 

If he’s watching, then he might as well get an eyeful.

 

Eichi pushes off the door and closes the distance between them in only a couple of strides, one hand on Leo’s chest pushing him back against the front of his desk. “Neither do I,” he quietly admits, and he gives into the urge to bend and kiss him.

 

Leo trembles like a leaf for a moment, expecting the same wave of feelings, the maelstrom of emotions that have driven him to insanity every time Eichi has ever touched him.

 

It doesn’t happen.

 

Eichi’s kiss is…nice. Lovely, even, but no more exciting than a kiss from Izumi, or even Rei. He blinks, pulling away and touching his lips, then swallows hard. “It’s Rei, isn’t it?” he asks softly. “He’s keeping it down. Isn’t he? It…between us. It was just the bond?” He hadn’t been sure. He hadn’t been sure that he _wanted_ to be sure.

 

“It makes me want to kill him.” Saying that he _wants_ to do something, not that he’s _going_ to do something isn’t a threat, right? Right? Whatever. Eichi inhales slowly, wiping a hand down his face as he rocks back onto his heels. “The bond made us like that, yes. Gods, why couldn’t we have had something _useful?_ Telepathy, the ability to transfer energy for healing, something along those lines…no, just distracting, all-consuming lust, that’s what we get.”

 

“It was nice, though,” Leo says wistfully. He reaches out, and tugs on Eichi’s sleeve gently, bringing him closer. “That’s the lust. But I…that’s not the only way I felt about you. Was it…I don’t know if it was the same for you.”

 

“I clawed my way out of the depths of the Shadowlands,” Eichi huffily says, but lets Leo pull him closer without any resistance, “and you’re actually wondering if I just came back for sex.”

 

“Well. It was _really_ good sex.”

 

“I _mean_ ,” Eichi hedges, “I’m not opposed to finding out if it’s still good. In fact, I’m encouraging the idea.” _Maybe some of that obnoxious thrall will fray away in the process._

 

Leo grins, and runs a fingertip down Eichi’s face, from temple to chin. “When you get back. Hey, what do you think it’ll feel like when Rei takes the thrall off? Will the broken bond try to rip my mind apart again? If so, ha, I’ll have to think up something else.”

 

“I don’t know why you think I can do anything in the state I’m in right now,” Eichi bemoans, sagging into the touch with a long, pointed shiver that goes down to his toes. That’s probably self-inflicted on his part, now that he’s _thinking_ too much about it, but what if he actually _can_ feel more of that bond still than Leo? It would make sense, he’s only human. “I _just_ resurrected. I’m exhausted and I _want_ to eat you. I mean. I traveled all night to meet you.”

 

Leo folds his arms. “That’s not my fault. I didn’t tell you to. Besides, things are different now. I’m married. You can’t just show up alive after eight years and act like nothing has changed, you know! You have to show me you want to do good things. Like close the gates.”

 

Eichi pauses, leans back, and stares down at him. “Married,” he deadpans, eyebrows slowly lifting. “ _You_.”

 

“I’m the king,” Leo reminds him. “I need heirs.”

 

“Uh huh. Who’s the lucky lady, then? Do I know her? Mm, I feel like I should.”

 

Leo waves a hand. “Take it up with the Registrars of Priests. You’re being kind of crazy, you know? Go, your king gave you an order. You’re going to do it.”

 

“First of all, you said I was getting tea. I want tea. Second of all,” Eichi sniffs, turning away and walking around to the other side of Leo’s desk, taking his chair for himself with a theatrical flop back into it. “I told you. I’m useless right now. I need time to recover, more of my magic and _soul_ to return, or I’m as effective as a Dawncloak.”

 

Leo stares at him for a moment, then walks to the fire, pulling the kettle from its hook and pouring them both a cup, sprinkling in leaves from an oiled paper envelope before serving them. “How long?”

 

Eichi shrugs, taking the cup from Leo’s grasp gratefully. “I’ve been back for less than a day. I don’t know the answer to that. I know all of the steps to close a Sorrow’s Gate, and I even know the fools involved with it in the first place, but knowing the process and having the influence means little if I don’t have the power to do it.” He takes a sip, sighing happily as he sags back further into Leo’s chair. “I left quite a bit of magic behind on you, which _would_ help, but Rei’s keeping that from me, deliberately. He’s quite cruel.”

 

“He did it to save my life.” Leo turns, head cocked. “Would you rather I had died? I thought about it. Lots of times. Finding you, like that.”

 

“It would’ve been romantic,” Eichi says, watching him over his teacup. “In a morbid sort of way. But no, you aren’t suited to the depths, not in the slightest. You know what he’s done, though, truly? How did he explain it?”

 

“He told me he was putting up a shield of his own power around me,” Leo says cheerfully. “But it’s been half a decade, I’ve done my research, I’ve talked to wizards. He thralled me. Yeah? And I’d love to say that he hasn’t done anything to misuse that bond, but I’ll never know, will I?”

 

“You gave yourself to him.” Eichi hopes he sounds as frustrated as he feels. “He owns you. He could do anything and you wouldn’t be able to say no. Was it…” His mouth twists, and he sets down his cup of tea, shutting his eyes. “Was it really so bad that you needed him to do that?”

 

Leo reaches out. His hand is warm from the tea, when he closes it around Eichi’s. “I was insane,” he says softly. “I was seeing things that weren’t there. I was living more in dreams than when I was awake, I couldn’t focus, it felt like a thousand needles digging into my skin every time I breathed, and all I could think about was going to join you. I didn’t know who I was anymore. Rei gave me my life back, so…I dunno. Worth it, so far. But, heh, isn’t that what a thrall would say?”

 

“Pretty much, yes.” Eichi’s smile is wry as he cracks his eyes open again, fingers curling underneath Leo’s. “Sorry, I have to ask. What sort of things did you see, hmm? Me?”

 

“Always you.” Leo’s voice is hushed, and he doesn’t draw back his hand, but his eyes go to the chair pushed up against his desk. “You visiting me. Us living together. You giving me advice, telling me what to do. I wanted that…so badly.”

 

“I don’t know if it will make you feel better or worse, but it’s probably better for you to know,” Eichi quietly says. “I did visit you. I reached for you, by the magic that was left behind—constantly. I didn’t mean for it to hurt you.”

 

The expression on Leo’s face freezes. “It….it was you?” he whispers. “No, it can’t—those were dreams, I _convinced_ myself—it felt so real, it felt like you, you were saying things you couldn’t possibly know, but I thought, maybe I’m a lot smarter than I think I am, _I don’t know_ …say something. Something that only dream Eichi would know.”

 

Eichi blinks a few times, thinking. “Um—well, we had a favorite chair we liked to do it in,” he lightly says, shrugging helplessly. “The one in your bedroom. You asked me a _lot_ about politics, though you rarely took my advice, you horrible brat. The slave trade comes to mind? That was one of the last times I was able to see you—you asked me about the West, too, and I told you _then_ send wizards back out there, but it’s taken forever for you to make it happen, hasn’t it.”

 

“They’re out there now,” Leo protests, heat rising to his face when he thinks of what’s actually _real_ , what he’d assumed was just his stupid, horny fantasies. “Wataru, and Nattsu. I tried to send them earlier, but wizards kept getting lost or killed, and the…” He swallows, trailing off. “Do you remember telling me to go buy something?” It _could_ have been a lucky, extrapolative guess.

 

“I know they’re out there _now_. That little prophet whore bit me. Unimportant, ah, let’s see…” Eichi pauses, and then his lips curl up at the edges, deeply amused. “Oh. Yes. A collar, with your name engraved in the tags. Did you?” His eyes glitter as he leans forward. “Buy it, I mean.”

 

Swallowing gets more and more difficult. Leo manages it, barely, and leans in close. “I swear on my honor,” he says softly, “that when you close those Sorrow’s Gates, I will put it on for you and sit on your lap.”

 

“Ah.” Eichi’s mouth goes dry. “I see. Then I need you to do two things for me, if you’d like for me to do that…soon.”

 

Leo grins. “Cool, that has the same effect on you as on me. Yeah? What are they?”

 

“The first thing,” Eichi begins, pointedly _not_ looking Leo in the eye right now, in an attempt to restrain himself, “is that you have to speak to Rei on my behalf. If you don’t, there’s no way he’ll take my involvement seriously. An addendum to that, I know he already has Shu involved. Working with him will prove…difficult, at best. That’s why your word will mean more.”

 

“You have to leave Shu alone,” Leo warns. “I can sell this to Rei, if you stay the hell away from Shu. If you start your old nonsense with him, nothing I say is going to have any effect. And I’ll…” He grimaces. “I’ll go one better. I’ll tell someone about my intentions to talk to Rei, then tell them what happened after, just to make sure he’s not tweaking my mind and making me think I’ve accomplished something I haven’t.”

 

“Use Keito. He’s fairly no-nonsense about this sort of thing, you know that.” Eichi sighs, shrugging a little. “I _might_ have already pushed Shu’s buttons before coming back entirely. To my credit, before you scold me, I _don’t_ plan on doing it again. I couldn’t help myself, when I found out Rei thralled you. It’s a sort of trade amongst demons, to go after each other’s mates.”

 

Leo scowls, but waves a hand. “I didn’t order you not to yet. Right? But now you won’t do it again. Eichi…” Leo tucks the hair behind his ears, toying with the long tail of it. “You know Rei was trying to save me. I asked him for help.”

 

“Why you suddenly think you can order me to do anything is beyond me,” Eichi moodily says, but he doesn’t do much to refute it. “I don’t care why he did it. I don’t have to like it. Whatever, onto the second thing. Hiyori’s still here, isn’t he?”

 

Leo shrugs. “I think? I don’t spend much time around him, he’s scared of Mama.”

 

“He’s smarter than he lets on, then. If he’s here, I need him. If he isn’t, then I’m going to sleep for about a month. _Then_ you get my help.”

 

“You can have him,” Leo says immediately. “If anything, I think most people will be glad to see him gone. No one really likes him, you know?”

 

“You should be nice to him,” Eichi mildly says, reaching up to idly curl his fingers about the tail of Leo’s hair, hooking a finger into its tie. “He helped bring me back.”

 

“Yeeeaaaaahhhh…” Leo allows, eyes slitted as he watches Eichi, “But I haven’t decided if that’s a good thing yet. You’re proving it to me, remember?”

 

“I’m behaving myself _so_ much right now. You have to admit that.”

 

“I do! I believe in you! But I want you to make me _keep_ believing, you know?” Leo turns his cheek, nuzzling into Eichi’s hand. “Help me to prove it to everyone else. You hurt a lot of people last time you were, you know, alive. You killed people, right?”

 

 _Only people that deserved it_ immediately comes to mind, but Eichi bites down on that response in favor of letting his thumb drag across Leo’s cheek, down to the soft swell of his lower lip. “Is she pregnant?” he asks, apropos of nothing, changing the subject abruptly. “Your wife?”

 

Leo grins. “I hope so. I sure filled her belly plenty last time we, ah…yeah. I hope so. I want her to be. Time will tell, you know?”

 

“Mmm. And here I was hoping that I could magic you into bearing _my_ children.”

 

“Wizards are sterile, though!” Leo beams. “Listen. That’s very hot. But even I know that much.”

 

“Maybe _this_ generation of wizards is,” Eichi says with a roll of his eyes, dragging his hand away. “Don’t encourage me. Did you get a leather collar?”

 

Too late, Leo remembers what Izumi has mentioned offhand, that Arashi is likely one of Eichi’s descendants. “That’s right, the Captain is one of yours,” he murmurs, distracted. “But I’m a man…how does that work?”

 

“However I want it to, when I have my magic fully at my disposal.” Eichi’s fingers idly dip down the front of Leo’s throat, running just above the collar of his coat. “You didn’t answer me.”

 

Leo leans slightly into the touch, eyelids lidding, “I’ll tell you about it when you’re all rested up,” he decides. “Then you get to see it on me when you come back. See, we’re graduating slowly. It’s good.”

 

“You’re playing with fire.” The warning is a low, quiet one as Eichi’s thumb deftly flicks open the snap holding that coat closed, and slides underneath it. “I want to eat you alive.”

 

At that, Leo knocks Eichi’s hand aside, stronger than he looks, and leans back, looking mildly disappointed. “I guess we’re done for now, then. I’ll find someone to go get Hiyori. Do you need quarters?”

 

“No. Just point me to his quarters.” Eichi pouts as drops his hand, but it’s more to hide that itching, frustrating _need_ more than anything. Even if Leo smells like Rei, he is, unfortunately, still Leo. “And if you hear screams, take care to ignore them.”

 

Leo feels like his mind is twitching, like something long-dormant is stirring under the surface of his soul, urging him to grab Eichi and kiss him against the wall. He shakes himself, and nods, standing and opening the door. “If you go back to the, you know the entrance to the palace’s guest quarters? It’s the second hallway, fourth door, the one with the goat’s head. Ignore the screams, got it.”

 

“Thank you. Oh, and…if you send Keito that way in a couple of hours, that might be good.” Eichi heaves himself to his feet, using every single bit of self-control left in his body to _not_ touch Leo, or grab him, or kiss him, or—no, he’s _going, damn it._ “In the meantime, I recommend reaching out to Rei, sooner rather than later. He might already know I’m here, and be planning to kill me.” Oops.

 

Rei’s quarters are in the Academy, and that’s kind of far away, so Leo simply stations Madara on the door (ignoring his multiple suggestions about where giant green wings could take them), then slumps down in his bed, several blankets pulled over him, to try and stop the shaking. It doesn’t work. The bed is heavier than the blankets. So by the time Rei arrives, as Leo had known he would, he’s lying underneath his own bed, wrapped in every blanket the servants can muster, content to simply ache on the floor for a while.

 

Rei hopes his presence makes that thing hiss and twitch and squirm, because he makes a _point_ of letting his magic spread out the moment he arrives.

 

Being stopped in a straight course back to the Shadowlands by something that makes his heart leap into his throat is…not how he expected this stay to go, but here he is, within the Capital, sparing a scarce knock on Leo’s door before sidestepping Madara and his complaints. “Your Majesty?” he calls, and then directs his gaze immediately _down_ , where there’s an odd sandwich of bed/blanket/floor, and what he assumes to be his king beneath all of it.

 

He lets his magic inch out even further, on second thought.

 

“Your Majesty.” Rei crouches down, gingerly lifting up a corner of the bed. “If you want to, ah, be smothered, this is less than ideal.”

 

“I dunno,” Leo mutters. “I think being smothered is ideal. So, Eichi’s back. Oh, shit, I forgot to talk to Keito first to find out if you were thralling me. Honor system just this once, yeah?”

 

“Mm. I know, I can feel him.” Rei sighs, sitting down onto the floor. “I’m not sure what you think I’d manipulate here, but if you want Keito as a buffer, I’ll go find him. More importantly, are you all right?”

 

Leo shrugs. “Lots of feelings. Too many to not be on the floor. Uh…yeah. Go find Keito. I have questions for him, and I don’t…want to take the risk of anyone coming back without Mama guarding.”

 

Rei nods and rises, stifling a reflexive yawn as he does, and the door clicks shut behind him again. “I’m amazed you didn’t kill him on the spot,” he bluntly says to Madara. _I might have._

 

Madara shrugs. “And I’m still amazed you thralled the king,” he says frankly. “He agreed to my conditions. I’ve got his lashed blood. Wasn’t sure what hurting him might do to Leo.”

 

“I don’t think it’s that shocking, considering the situation that surrounds it.” Pointing out all of the ways Eichi might try to wriggle out of that in the future is moot, and Rei just sighs, ending the conversation there lest he have to listen to the dragon tell him why so much of this is _his_ fault.

 

Keito isn’t difficult to find, especially when he’s pacing about a foyer, one arm bandaged and tightly slung. Rei leans in the doorway, eyebrows raising. “An injury like that almost speaks of physical activity. _You_ actually _moved_ after all this time?”

 

“I fell down and hit the ground when the carriage I was riding evaporated,” Keito says with a sigh, pushing his spectacles awkwardly up onto his nose with his left hand. “Don’t worry. Not athletic at all. Did you—did he get my note? No, you wouldn’t have spoken to him yet.” He laughs bitterly. “I should have known it was all for nothing. Writing in code is harder than I expected, too.”

 

“I’ll admit, stopping by your home was not high on my priority list,” Rei says. “But I’m assuming, just by your face, that this is somehow about Mao. He’s still in the North, but I can pass something off to him, if you need me to. Later, of course; right now, the king apparently wants you to sit in while I talk to him because he wants to make sure I’m not being inappropriate.”

 

“Did you thrall him?” Keito doesn’t look at Rei. “Or is Eichi lying?”

 

“Eichi is always lying. What does it matter? Are you coming or should I tell the king to find someone else?”

 

“Nice, very good dodge there,” Keito mutters, and follows, because what else is there to do? This is his life. Powerful men buffet him around, and he gets injured trying to mitigate their powers.

 

Rei exhales a slow breath through his teeth. “You know, when you’re _so_ negative, there’s nothing more painful to be around,” he says crossly, unable to stop himself. “Because _everyone_ seems to know now, yes, I thralled him. I beg you, continue to hear that without context, just like everyone else will at my eventual trial.”

 

“I don’t mean Leo,” Keito snaps, eyes blazing behind his spectacles, slamming his left hand against the wall. “I know everyone else cares most about him, but that’s _not_ who I’m talking about! You’ve always used him for your own ends, and I’ve _always_ turned a blind eye to it, because I always believed you were doing what was best for the whole country, even when you managed to arrange the _worst_ jobs for him, just because he’s not one of your favorites and he won’t complain. The ends justify the means, for Eichi and you, but I’ve always made more excuses for you, because you’re _nice_ , so just tell me. Did you thrall Mao?”

 

Rei blinks several times as he leans back, a frown slowly turning his mouth down. “Who told you that?” he quietly asks. “Was it Eichi?” Oh, he did _not_ miss this—this constant tit-for-tat, trying to take one another down or one up the other, especially with people like Keito stuck in the middle.

 

There are tears in Keito’s eyes. He wipes them angrily away. “He always lies, right?” he spits. “Like he did about Leo? You’ve been using Mao since he was five, don’t pretend you haven’t. I don’t give a shit if he did agree with it, you’re the adult, he’s the child, you’ve thrown him to shadowcreatures and put him on assignment as a prostitute, you set him to spy on the guardian you gave him to, and you’ve _never_ wanted to look too closely at him, even when he does whatever you say. So did you thrall him? I figure you’re ashamed of it, but that doesn’t make it any _better_ , Rei!”

 

“He _asked_ me to.” Rei grabs Keito by his good arm, holding fast. “Keito. You know he’s not a stupid boy, right? He _asked_ me to thrall him—knew what it meant, knew what it entailed, even as a child. So yes, I did, because there was no other way for him to get what he wanted. How did you think he grew so powerful in such a short period of time? How do you _think_ he was able to survive the torture the Academy itself put him through?”

 

Keito tries to yank his arm out of Rei’s grasp, but Rei is too strong, when he wants to be. He snarls, rigidly tense, and turns his face away. “You’ve made an ass of me,” he says quietly. “All the times I’ve insisted you’d never do something like that. How many others have you done that to? Why don’t you just fuck off to the Shadowlands and leave us stupid humans alone, _both_ of you? Go play your power games with other creatures who can stand up to you, we don’t want to be your pawns anymore! Is that why Mao can touch me, even though he’s bonded to Ritsu? I’ll never know, not for sure, because you lie just as much as Eichi ever has! Bastard, I _loved_ you!”

 

Rei’s face crumples for a split second before he smoothes it to impassiveness, his fingers trembling just for a moment before he abruptly releases Keito’s arm. “That bond is fake, and I daresay Mao knows by now and is just playing along,” he simply says instead of replying to anything else Keito has to say. “But even thralls can’t overstep active resonant bonds. Come, the king needs us.”

 

Keito’s emotions are a riot. His insides are a mess, mouth aching as if abraded by the harsh words he’d spat, as if they’re burning him with how much he wishes he could take them back. He can hardly process any of what Rei had said, every part of him buzzing, confused, hurting. “Would I know, if you’d thralled me?” he asks, voice tortured as he follows.

 

“I’d tell you, so, yes. But I understand wanting an unbiased opinion, so—“

 

Rei stops short in front of the king’s chambers, staring up at Madara, and jabbing a thumb back in Keito’s direction without looking at him. “Look at him and tell him if I’ve thralled him or not.”

 

Madara looks at Keito, miserable, shaking, tears in his eyes, clutching at his broken arm, then back at Rei. “Are you trying to torture him? I mean, he probably deserves it, for hanging around with that demon, but, wow. You’re not thralled, Specs. Everything you’ve done is your own fault.”

 

“Thanks,” Keito mutters, feeling somehow even worse.

 

“Greatly appreciated,” Rei says without batting an eye, and opens the door. “I’m back, Your Majesty. Apologies for the delay, do you need help crawling out from underneath the mattress or should I leave you there?”

 

Leo extricates himself, finger-combing his hair back into place, a bit self-consciously. He gives Rei a small, embarrassed smile. “Sorry. I was being childish before. Wow, Keito, you look really terrible.”

 

“It’s fine,” Keito mutters. “I’m a terrible person. What did you want?”

 

Leo folds his arms, looking between Rei and Keito. “I’m going to put Eichi to work,” he says bluntly. “He’s talented and knows more about magic than most people alive, it would be stupid to waste him and dangerous to try and get rid of him. Madara could _probably_ do it, but I’m not the kind of king that executes people based on what they might have done. I’ve decided to treat him as a former enemy of the state that we’ve got a treaty with, since I wasn’t king when he was…doing his thing, so it’s not like he can be accused of ever going against my regime. He should be given a chance to prove himself. Rei, you used to work with him. Think he can close the Sorrow’s Gates by himself? Because that’s what I’m going to have him do.”

 

“No.” It’s a blunt response, but Rei isn’t in the mood to sugarcoat anything at the moment. “Especially in his current state, he’s useless. When I worked to close the gates with him before, it was an incomplete job because he was weakened then as well, and his power gave out half-way through. He’s never fully recovered, in spite of what he might have told you.”

 

“Mm, yeah, that’s why he went to go eat Hiyori,” Leo assures him.

 

“He still won’t be strong enough. Bolstered, maybe, but temporarily, at best.” Rei sighs, rocking on his heels. “And that’s assuming he really _did_ eat Hiyori, which I doubt he will completely. Even Archdemons have friends, sort of. Assume his weakness is…something akin to a chronic illness, I suppose. There’s a much longer explanation for it, but that’s the long and short of it. There are only a few things that can temporarily change that now.”

 

Leo frowns. “Oh. That’s lame. What _can_ he do? He’s willing to do basically anything I tell him to, since I’m promising that you’ll relax your thrall on me when I tell you to.” He looks back at Rei, and his eyes aren’t nearly as firm as they are trusting. “Because you will, right?”

 

“…As long as you know what that means.”

 

Rei folds his arms, his own frown deepening. “Your Majesty. Leo. Forgive me, but may I be blunt for a moment?”

 

Leo swallows hard. “I wish you would. I’m kind of…I have no idea what to do, so I’m just making this up as I go along. I don’t _want_ any of this to happen right now, I’m busy with my country, my Sena, my life, you know? So, be blunt. I always respect your opinion.”

 

“Eichi typically never shows up when you _want_ him,” Rei agrees in a deadpan, and drags over a chair, finally giving into the urge to collapse back into it. That’s already too much _daytime_ wakefulness for him, and when coupled with Keito _and_ Eichi—no, standing is requiring too much. “If you want to fuck him, fuck him,” he says, staying true to the promise of being blunt. “And then keep him on a leash, for whenever your broken bond is making you uncomfortable, and fuck him again. If his magic recovers, he might be a useful wizard, but he’s dangerous even in that regard, because _our_ magic directly opposes one another, and I can’t effectively destroy him if he gets out of hand again. No one really can, not even Madara. He can drop him off into a volcano, but then we’re back to this situation again. Has Eichi ever even explained to you what his magic truly does?”

 

“…No,” Leo admits, feeling stupid, young, and naive. “But I don’t really understand magic, so can you please use really normal-person words? Or explain it with music, or something?”

 

“It’s not your fault for not understanding. I’m not surprised he hasn’t told you anything, because if he _had_ , it would make a lot of sense as to what he’s actually capable of right now. His magic…it undoes. Whatever something is, he can unravel it. It’s specifically effective against other magical constructs. He can work spells as much as any other wizard, certainly, but he’s at his most effective when he can take something else apart, destroy it, and then make it something else. So,” Rei wryly says, reaching out and curling one finger, plucking at the layers of netted magic about Leo so that it flares visibly in deep red all about him, with one strand of it connected to Rei. “If he wanted this gone, it should be gone, don’t you think?”

 

Leo shifts uncomfortably, as if Rei had suddenly grabbed him underneath the skin and tugged, and frowns. “Ah…yeah. That would make sense. So you’re saying that he’s at his best when he’s unmaking something, right? But then why couldn’t he unmake the magic around me? He’s really weak, that’s what you’re saying?”

 

“He can’t be that weak,” Keito speaks up quietly. “He transfigured beetles and a walnut into horses and a carriage, for nearly a full day. He was tired after, though.”

 

“He can do things like that in his sleep. Unmaking magic is something else entirely, and that’s one of the only ways to tackle a Sorrow’s Gate, if that’s what you want from him.” Rei sighs, dropping his hand again, the lines of magic disappearing as quickly as they had appeared. “His sole purpose for returning is you, Leo. If he could dissolve my thrall off of you, don’t you think he would’ve? So yes, the point is, he’s very weak. There are a few ways to temporarily fix that, as I said, but…mmm.”

 

Leo looks between the two men, sensing a weird energy, but dismisses that as unimportant. If it were important to him, surely they’d say something. He looks back to Rei, and sits slowly on a chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “What do you think I should do?” he asks, hoping he doesn’t sound as shaken and lost as he feels. “I’m not saying I’ll do what you think, but you’ve given me very good advice in the past.”

 

Rei exhales a soft breath. “Understand that I am biased in this, and I think rightfully so,” he quietly says. “Because if we’re talking about restoring Eichi’s magic to the point of usefulness—that’s a direct threat to my mate. To me, too, yes, but I think it’s undeniable that Eichi’s resentment of Shu is far more troubling. I don’t like it. I’m not saying that your ideas are unfounded, or that you’re being foolish—I just don’t like the idea at all. I think there’s a limit to how much you can blackmail him with promises of _you_ , especially when I _do_ question how much you actually want to be with him.” He pauses, offering a brief, side-eyed glance towards Keito, then looks back to Leo. “Also, I’m honestly not sure how many others you should be involving in your personal matters like this, so if you want more of my advice, I’d like to be discussing it with you alone.”

 

Leo’s eyes flick over to Keito. “It sounds like he’s saying you can’t be trusted.”

 

Keito opens his mouth, then closes it. “With all due respect, your Majesty,” he says quietly, “I would like to be excused.”

 

Leo’s gaze sharpens, and he sits up, intent. “Why?”

 

Keito sways slightly where he stands, but grits his teeth, firming his stance. “Because I honestly don’t know who to believe right now,” he says bluntly. “I thought that by going with Eichi when he asked, I could minimize his impact on the country. For the record, he did promise me that if you rejected him outright, he would leave this country, never to return, and we would go to the Sandlands and establish a new home. I thought that by leaving everything I loved and going with him, I could, as long as I extracted the promises from him when he was weak, keep him from hurting anyone or opening any old grievances.”

 

He looks up at Rei, sorrow in his eyes. “I always forget, plainly speaking, that he is very, very good at making me believe his sincerity, no matter how much I’m on my guard. I cannot promise that I won’t fall under his persuasion again. If you want this conversation to be private and never get back to Eichi, excuse me.”

 

Leo blinks. “Well. Fair enough, I suppose. Go on, back to your rooms.”

 

“I was pacing in the foyer, Majesty, I don’t keep rooms at the palace.”

 

“Oh. Back to your foyer, go on.”

 

Rei waits for the door to shut, saying nothing until it clicks back into place. “It’s not that he _can’t_ be trusted, but he did also highlight why you _shouldn’t_ trust him,” he mildly says, leaning back in his chair. “Mostly, I wanted him gone because he hurt my feelings and I’m feeling passive aggressive.”

 

“Juicy,” Leo remarks. “But not super great for convincing people that you’re not trying to use your thrall, right? Haha! Anyway, what do you think? If no one can truly kill him, treating him like a war criminal isn’t going to work for the long-term, you know? So, I figure it’s good to make use of him, but I do want to hear what you think. You know him better than most.” He fingers the crystal in his pocket. “And you were the only one who ever helped me, when things were…as bad as things could get,” he adds softly. “I haven’t forgotten that. I owe you a great debt of thanks for what you’ve done.”

 

“Mm, I figured being honest about why I’m kicking him out does wonders for my integrity if nothing else,” Rei wearily says, though he does crack a smile. “People will think what they will about what that thrall is doing, regardless of how open I am about it. You don’t need to thank me, just…listen to me, and assume I _am_ being honest with you, biases aside.”

 

He straightens, setting his hands onto his knees. “I spent a good amount of my first years in the human realm with Eichi. I know exactly what he’s capable of, and what he isn’t. You’re right—treating him like a war criminal isn’t going to work long-term. He might be acting obedient right now, but it chafes him, to act like he’s below anyone. The _problem_ ,” Rei hesitantly adds after a moment’s pause, “is in the manner that he, like all Archdemons, feed. When he was with you, before—did it ever feel like it was an actual drain upon you? Emotionally, as well as sort of…mm, deeper than that, as if you were exhausted all the way down to your soul?”

 

Leo swallows hard. “It felt like…” He trails off, thinking, and drums his fingers on the desk, for much longer than a normal person would assume he was still trying to formulate a response. Finally, he speaks again. “Did you know my uncle Rennan?”

 

“Vaguely. He possessed none of your line’s grace, so I admit, I sort of tuned him out.”

 

“My father usually kept me away from him,” Leo agrees. “He liked those drinks the alchemists pass around the lower city, the one called Damsel’s Tears. You know it? They say even one sip makes you feel like you could lift the city itself above your head and spin it around. Then you feel good for a few days after. The second time, you feel almost as good as the first, but a day later, you feel like you could sleep all day. So the next time, you take a bigger drink, looking for that same first feeling again. Most men are lucky if they wake up after that time. Uncle Rennan drank that stuff for two years before it killed him. I remember the look on his face when he was in the fits of it. Ecstasy, but also despair—frustration, that even when his life was overwhelmingly good, as good as it could ever be, it was never what he thought he’d been promised, because even when he had the best thing he possibly could, it wasn’t good enough. He knew it was killing him, too, but he couldn’t stop. He stole money from the treasury to get more. Father gave him a choice, when he was caught, of exile or the priesthood. He told Father that neither would stop him, so Father left three Tears on his desk that night. Uncle Rennan never woke up.”

 

He looks up, eyes shining. “That’s how I felt, when I was with Eichi. Even as good as I always felt, I couldn’t stop. I like him as a person, a _lot_ , and I think he’s better than people give him credit for, but I think I knew all along that he was killing me, if I’m being honest.”

 

“There’s not…really any other way it could have been,” Rei gently says. “No one likes to talk about it, especially not wizards, but when a wizard bonds with a human…that alone is troublesome. The human, if they can feel any amount of that bond, _will_ be consumed by it. And the wizard’s…well, when their human dies, their own life is over, no matter how magic extends a wizard’s life. Even if they don’t kill themselves, it’s really…pointless, almost, for them to keep living, unless someone intervenes.” _Like I did with you._

 

“It’s even worse with Archdemons. Naturally,” Rei continues, fluttering a hand, “they bond to one another. Hiyori, Eichi’s little carrier pigeon? He has a mate. Another Archdemon, causing problems in the North. But when a _wizard Archdemon_ , of all the horrible things, bonds to a perfectly normal, non-magical human…that’s the stuff of nightmares for the human. There’s nothing you could’ve done to change that and make it better, and unfortunately, there’s nothing _he_ could have done, either. The nature of the way an Archdemon feeds is through the energy and life force of those around them, and eventually, they will kill whoever they’re feeding upon constantly. It has to be spread around, or that will be the end result, no exceptions. It’s why wizard towers were invented, actually. Eichi created them—each individual tower blocks out the energies of other wizards within the Academy. It’s so he wouldn’t bleed the whole place dry just by being there…but when he stepped out into the Academy, he _could_ still feed, albeit sparingly, on an endless sea of magic users that probably wouldn’t notice that little drain once in awhile. It’s why he never could reach his full magical power here—he’d have to eat a Nightcloak on a regular basis to do that—and why he was always…sickly, for lack of a better word. But I suppose I give him credit for _not_ just feeding constantly like he could have; he genuinely didn’t want to just _eat_ , like most Archdemons. Sadly, that’s why I don’t think he can ever truly return to the kind of strength you imagine him to be at…unless he feeds. Often. And thoroughly.”

 

Leo’s heart sinks. “But he had to know that,” he whispers, hoping against hope, against _logic_ , that Rei is wrong. “He had to. And he came back anyway, why would he do that if he could never be what…”

 

He draws his knees up to his chest. “Unless where he was was worse,” he says softly, resting his chin on his knees. “Gods. He’s got to be starving all the time, no wonder he’s insane. What the hell do I do with him, Rei?”

 

“The depths of the Shadowlands…aren’t a place where anyone, _anything_ wants to be. And that’s where pure Archdemons are born these days, or fell to, in the case of many.” Rei chews on his lower lip, thinking. “Like I said, he can be temporarily bolstered up to a point of…usefulness. That’s just…mmmm. All right. Confession time, on my part. You’ve heard the stories a million times by now, about how the two of us closed the Sorrow’s Gates in the past.”

 

“Yeah, you kind of don’t shut up about it when you’re drunk.”

 

“Wow. It was _very_ cool, okay? Never mind, I see you don’t _truly_ want my advice.”

 

“Er, what I mean is, you’ve never told me in enough _detail_ , I’m definitely still missing some of the finer points!”

 

“I wasn’t even going to tell you _about_ closing the gates, because apparently I’ve done that enough.” Rei sniffs, looking pointedly to the side. “It’s fine, it’s fine. You’re just like every other man in my life.”

 

“Rei, pleeeeeeeeeeease, tell me more, I’m begging!” Leo slides out of the chair and onto his knees, opening his eyes as wide as possible and fluttering his eyelashes. Even this much stupid little humor is enough to help him feel a little less hopeless.

 

Rei huffs, spares a glance down, then away, then huffs again. “Fine. _Fine_ , I suppose,” he says, heaving a long, exaggerated sigh and reaching down to pet Leo’s hair. “So once upon a time, your shitty ex-lover realized that _I_ was an endless source of energy so long as I kept fucking everything that moved. This was before he decided he hated that about me because it was ‘very unfair’—his words, not mine—and threw a tantrum that made him claim all wizards _had_ to be celibate for the rest of their lives. Anyway, a fun and easy trick for him to feed efficiently is find a sex wizard that constantly produces energy from having sex…and tumble them. A lot. And often. It creates a sort of endless chain reaction and the sex wizard isn’t hurt by it because _they’re_ getting fed without draining _you_ while you’re feeding on _them_ …right. So anyway, that’s how we really closed the Sorrow’s Gates, more or less. The one in the West got fucked up because we were having a spat and I refused to suck his dick, so he was on a low and nearly died. Please laugh, I never get to tell this story.”

 

Leo falls back onto his ass, comically flattened as he goggles up at Rei. “You—he—you and he—you were _lovers_? Wahahaha! Wait, are you saying that he wouldn’t be crazy anymore if you just had sex with him again? Seriously? You get down there right now, young man!”

 

“No! Absolute refusal, I will not,” Rei sniffs, folding his arms again as he sits back. “Find another sex wizard. I never get to tell this story, and for good reason, so have a good laugh and then forget about it, except to put together a few missing pieces about our feud that probably make quite a bit more sense now.”

 

“But you could fix him!” Leo protests, jumping up to tug at Rei’s arm. “And it wouldn’t kill me, doesn’t that sound good, huh? I’m a good king, right? You don’t want me to _die_ , right? I’m definitely too cute to get sucked dry by a psychotic starving archdemon!”

 

“He can’t suck you dry, my magic’s protecting you, remember?” Rei says, eyebrows raised as he leans in. “You’re not going to die regardless. Think of my situation, please. My consort would _gut me_ if he knew even an inkling of this.”

 

Leo crosses his arms, trying to be serious again. “Okay. So…I asked you what you think I should do, and you told me a few more things not to do. What _should_ I do with him, though? It doesn’t seem right to just…torture him by letting him starve. But obviously I can’t let him hurt people. He _has_ done some incredible things for this country and for humanity, it’s not like I executed anyone who supported my father when I took power.”

 

“You _could_ find another sex wizard,” Rei mildly suggests. “But they are in short supply, I’ll admit. Right, being more serious—on principle alone, I’m not sleeping with him. No, you can’t order me as king, either. Buuut,” he hedges, very carefully, “because you are my thrall…it could be possible to funnel my energy through you to him.”

 

Leo blinks. “Eh? Really? That sounds…but I thought he couldn’t access any of my energy when you had me all snugged up.”

 

“He can’t. He wouldn’t be touching your energy, it would be mine, through all of this mess,” Rei says, reaching out to pluck on a strand of the magic wrapped around Leo, which makes it briefly filter back into visibility, glittering dark red. “At the risk of disgusting you, I can already tell when you’re having sex, and I do get something of a kickback from it. I can’t imagine engineering it to be a bit more…intimate, would be so difficult.”

 

Leo bites his lip suddenly. “Oh. I…yeah…the thing is…” He rubs the back of his neck. “Does it have to be me? I…I sort of did something, with Lord Izumi.”

 

“ _Did_ you.” Rei clasps his hands together. “I can’t imagine what that is. Something with tits, yes? Well, you’re under my thrall, and Mao’s under my thrall, and I’m a sex wizard, and so those are the options if you want a sex wizard capable of feeding Eichi one way or another. Everyone seems to think I keep a collection of possibilities, but they’d be wrong.”

 

“We got married.”

 

“I’m shocked. Do I look shocked? I’m definitely shocked.”

 

“And I thiiiiiink he’s pregnant.”

 

“Truly new and interesting information that I’ve _never_ heard about or witnessed firsthand.”

 

“Hey! This is really cool, you should be _shocked!_ And congratulate me on the heir! Anyway, that’s why I really can’t fuck anyone. Does Mao like Eichi much?”

 

Rei rubs both hands over his face, then back through his hair, tousling it throughly. “First of all,” he says, “no, he hates Eichi. Second of all, I literally have met with your lover firsthand, and can confirm, yes, he’s pregnant, so you can stop hoping beyond hope and _actually_ be happy. Third of all, _why would you ever_ promise that to _Eichi_ if you had no intention of fucking him in the first place, then? Leo. He’s going to destroy the world over you. He can’t help it.”

 

Leo shrugs. “Wasn’t thinking,” he admits. “That happens around him sometimes. Most of the time. I mean, I _want_ to, honestly? It just feels less right.”

 

“You realize,” Rei says after a moment’s pause, trying to put words together as carefully as possible, “that it’s natural to want to be with him. Right? And I’m not going to judge you for that. I’d like to think that Sena has had his own fair share of resonant bond difficulties enough to realize that as well, so I also doubt he’d think less of you.”

 

“It’s different.” Frustrated, annoyed, Leo stalks over to the window, leaning his upper body out, staring down at the ground several stories below. “Everyone hates him. It’s fine if Izumi screws everyone, but if I mess around with Eichi, well, he’s bad, right? Everyone knows that? Never mind that he used to protect the whole country by himself and drove himself almost to death doing it, everyone “knows” he’s evil, right? Uuuuuuuuuugh, this is stupid, I don’t want to want him anymore, I hate not being able to control how I feel. And I hate that…I miss it. The way it felt when he touched me.” He turns, a naked hunger in his eyes. “I do want you to take the thrall off. I want to feel it again. But that’s…that’s addict talk. If it’s killing me. I can’t be that selfish.”

 

Rei pulls himself slowly to his feet, drifting over to the window and leaning against the frame, grimacing at the sunlight that pours through. “I can lessen it,” he says quietly. “I can let you feel him, as much as you like. And I can still prevent him from feeding on you…for the most part. Any bond is like an addiction, though; that’s the nature of them, the pesky, horrific things that they are.” He shrugs, glancing out over the palace grounds. “I know I’ve told you this before, but I’ll tell you again—I know he can’t help it, the ‘evil’ things he’s done. I’m fussing with you about this because I’m in a bad mood, and I’m tired, and it’s becoming increasingly clear that my own involvement in this realm is becoming clumsier as I get older, which I hate. If you truly want to keep him at an arm’s length, if you truly _never_ want to open those floodgates again, but you still want him useful…I’ll handle him. It’s not as if it doesn’t benefit me, too. Shu nearly killed himself closing the Sorrow’s Gate in High Harbor; I don’t fancy him going West, or North, and doing the same until he’s actually dead.”

 

“Rei…”

 

Leo shifts clumsily closer to Rei, as if to be unnoticed—unlikely, when they’re the only two people in the same small, quiet room—and puts an arm up, up, and around Rei’s shoulders. It’s fine. Not weird. “We’re friends, right?” he asks quietly. “I see you taking a lot of this onto yourself. Like, sure, some of it has to be on you, because you’re the only one who can, like all the responsibility is ultimately on me, because I’m king. Power and burdens can’t be separated. Ugh, I sound like my grandfather! But…he’s not your fault. And you…I’m not saying this right, I don’t think, but just because you’re the strongest doesn’t mean everything’s your fault. I’m sorry it makes you sad. It makes me sad, too.”

 

“You’re very sweet.” Rei leans down, gently grabs Leo’s face in his hands, and squishes it. “Unfortunately, I do think a lot of this is my fault. Genuinely. I ran away for years. I let it get to a point where no one opposed the nonsense he was spewing, and he hurt many people that I care about. I can say I was plotting and planning during that time, and it was all necessary, but that’s really to make myself feel better. Mostly, I cried a lot and got drunk on pirate ships. I think crying a lot and being drunk is a much bigger part of leading people than most realize.”

 

Leo makes a proper fishy face, blowing out his cheeks. “Just…you look like I do sometimes when I’m about to go somewhere really dark. But I forbid it, okay? I won’t order you to have sex with him, but I _do_ forbid you to blame yourself and get all mopey about it. It happened, we’re going to deal with it. Everything…everything happens. It doesn’t stop. So you and me, we’re going to clean this up, yeah? After all, we’re maybe the only two people still alive here that know how _difficult_ it is to get that guy’s whole prick in our mouths, wahahaha!”

 

Rei heaves a long sigh, shaking Leo lightly by the grip on his face. “Why do you think I turned him down on that fateful night?” he grouses. “You know, you’re right. Everything happens and it doesn’t stop, and history does indeed just keep repeating itself, but I _honestly_ did not think that it would come back to the world trying to end again because I wasn’t up to sucking Eichi’s cock. It’s so oddly specific that I want to cry.”

 

“For want of a nail, right?” Leo asks sympathetically, patting Rei’s shoulder, not at all trying to break away from the hold on his face. “It’s always something like that. But twice, wow. That seems pretty specific. Maybe you should go to the priests and try to find out what the gods are trying to tell you.”

 

“The gods are telling me I’m a whore, Leo.”

 

“Oh. Mean of them. But I also think that’s kind of not right? Shouldn’t they be telling you that you’re not _enough_ of a whore, then? Sucking his cock would have saved the world! Might again! The gods are telling you that you’re a prude!”

 

Rei can’t help but snort at that, highly amused in spite of himself. “Ah, yes. The Demon King Rei, the world’s biggest prude.”

 

Leo nods seriously. “The world is in danger because of it,” he says, patting Rei’s chest firmly. “You might need to finally take someone to your bed. I know. It’s against everything you believe. Oh, but it needn’t be extramarital,” he says, suddenly changing subjects. “Did I tell you? Wizards should be able to marry now, my favorite solicitor tells me so. Marry your love, if you want. I promised, didn’t I?”

 

Rei leans down so that he’s eye level with Leo, and very calmly says, “Shu will divorce me before I can even officially marry him when he learns that I’ve ever touched Eichi’s dick. But thank you, it’s a lovely sentiment.”

 

“Hey, you don’t think I’m going to tell him, do you? I won’t!”

 

“Mmm. And you think I can trust Eichi to keep _his_ mouth shut? He loves to talk.”

 

“He’s never mentioned it before,” Leo points out. “In decades and decades. He didn’t bring it up even when he had Shu at his mercy to torment for six years, right? Wouldn’t he have done it then? Oh, maybe he finds it as embarrassing as you do!”

 

“Gods, I hope so. Or for all I know, he did say something, but Shu didn’t catch on. Bless him, he was so…is pure the word? Yes, I think it is.”

 

“Pure is definitely the word,” Leo agrees. “Very innocent. I mean, he’s way too stuck-up, but at least he’s adorable. And very beautiful, you probably managed to score the second-most-beautiful man in the kingdom.”

 

“Hmmm. Only the second-most? I suppose the first-place slot _is_ reserved, isn’t it?”

 

Leo opens his mouth, pauses, then laughs again, more loudly. “Not right now! Right now, Shu can be the most beautiful man in the kingdom, don’t you think?”

 

“You’re too kind. I was going to offer that spot to you.”

 

Leo scowls, and thumps Rei in the chest with his fist. “Stupid! Are you insulting my Lord Husband? That’s probably treason or something!”

 

“Ah, ow, I’m dying,” Rei laments, swaying with the slap to his chest. “I can’t speak fully to your Lord Husband’s beauty, Majesty, as I’ve never been in his bed. Now, my brother, on the other hand, probably has a few things to say—“

 

At that, surprisingly, Leo preens a bit. “Yeah, he’s so pretty that even demons want him. Why don’t you, by the way? It’s giving him a complex that you’ve had everyone but him. And Captain Arashi, they’re both pretty weird about it.”

 

“The sun is too bright and I’m going to lie in your bed nest,” Rei tells him, and wastes no time striding over to the bed to collapse onto it, stretching out as long as possible (which is quite long, actually). “It isn’t that I don’t _want_ him.”

 

“I’m going to pretend you’re talking about Arashi, by the way,” Leo says cheerfully, drawing a curtain over the window. “Because in theory I don’t mind if Izumi has sex with half the people in my country, but I want to know as little about them as possible, beyond Mika and Arashi.”

 

“Certainly.” Rei makes a pile of pillows and flops his head down onto it, uncaring that he looks decidedly less like an Emperor, and more like a vagabond swaddled in clothes freshly stolen from some fancy tailor. “Anyway. It’s not some pinpoint, specific interest or anything. Most people that are attractive and have half a brain, I’m interested in at least one roll about. That being said, I won’t lay hands on either of them. Izumi and I…our magic would create some odd cycle, I think, and I don’t want to risk it. Arashi, I’m not strictly opposed, but I think Mika would resent me.”

 

Leo pouts. He might be the most powerful person in the country, but he does absolutely pout. “I captured him a snog and spent five months training it,” he grumbles, coming over to flop down on the foot of his bed. “And since he woke up, he hasn’t even asked about me. No matter what I do, he really just doesn’t like me at all. I don’t actually love sharing my Lord Husband with someone that doesn’t like me.”

 

“Mm, really? Shu told me one of the first things he asked was if you two were married yet.” Rei shifts, stretching out a leg to prod Leo with his foot. “He’s a lovely, but fickle beast. For what it’s worth, I think his interest has shifted away from Sena these days. Mika doesn’t have much time for people that contradict him.”

 

Leo’s head tilts to the side, and automatically reaches out, starting to rub Rei’s foot with both hands. “Contradict him? Izumi saved his life.”

 

“Sena also doesn’t let him get away with anything,” Rei points out, sagging down and flexing his toes with a pleased little sigh. “Thank you, I’m dying. I _just_ got in from the Shadowlands, had to tend to my consort, then rush over here. Anyway, Mika’s a good child, but fundamentally…well, he’s just plain odd, isn’t he? I’m sure he likes you, he’s probably just shy. He still acts nervous around me, sometimes.”

 

“He’s not just shy,” Leo grumbles, digging his thumbs in the way he does with Izumi whenever he’s been riding all day. “His insults are really cutting! He just has a way of deflating me. Like I’ll be feeling great about some plan that took me days and days to come up with, something I worked _really hard_ on, and he’ll just roll his eyes at me and be like, _Damn, that’s so obvious, I came up with that when I was a kid because it was so damn obvious._ But, you know, with a Sandlands accent. He makes me feel so bad about the way I treat Izumi, too, like I’m some sorry excuse for a lover—I’m not the one who sleeps with everyone, you know! And love—I might have gotten myself bonded to an archdemon, but did you know Izumi’s in _love_ with your brother, and Mika, and Arashi, and probably Captain Morisawa, too?”

 

“I see there has been some pent up frustration for awhile,” Rei groans, throwing an arm over his face as he presses his foot down into Leo’s grasp. “He—ahh—gods, you’re not repeating anything that’s said in this room, right?”

 

“You’d better not repeat anything I said! Izumi would kill me! So, yeah. Secrets.” Leo rubs harder, working on the tendons in the heel.

 

A slow hiss of breath follows. “He’s Shu,” comes Rei’s eventual response. “Just…Shu, again. But nippier, like a mean little dog that has been encouraged by its master to bite. And far less gentle with us fully grown men, so he’s _swifter_ to bite. At the end of the day, he’s only loyal to Shu. If he’s ever been nice to you in the slightest and you aren’t Shu or a small child, consider yourself lucky.”

 

“He’s not nice to me! And I’m definitely not Shu or a small child—how do _you_ deal with him being mean to you?” Leo accuses. “You’re just as sensitive as I am, you’re a big…sad…crying man, I don’t know.”

 

“Honestly? I just treat him as an extension of Shu. They are a set, after all.” Rei withdraws his foot with a wiggle of his toes, idly sliding his other foot into Leo’s grasp. “He’s happier when you ignore him. I know, I know, that’s not in your nature. I just leave him presents and hope he’ll find them and he does, eventually, and then he’s pleased because he doesn’t have to acknowledge it and no one is talking to him.”

 

Leo scowls, though not at Rei, and starts at work on the other foot. “You know, Shu isn’t ever nice to me, but I think he’s fantastic. Also, he’s totally nice if you just listen to his real words, he’s just bad at saying them. I don’t get how someone as stupidly gentle and sweet as Shu can spend time around someone so mean!”

 

“Mmhm. Did you ever think that maybe Mika’s as snippy and defensive as he is because Shu’s a bit too nice?” Rei mildly asks, his eyes rolling back into his head. “Fuck. Who taught you how to rub feet like this?”

 

Leo grins. “Izumi. I wanted to practice a lot, and he rides all the time. I’ve been doing it for him since we were kids. Nn, is it really that good? Also, he doesn’t need to be mean to _me_ , I’m nice to Shu! I like him!”

 

“You deserve an award. Sena’s a lucky man. And yes, I know you’re nice to Shu, I didn’t say it was a _good_ thing that Mika was so defensive. I’m not defending him at all, really, just trying to explain him. He’s Shu’s little attack dog, except more of a bird, I think. A pecky one that hides behind Shu and hisses.”

 

“How is that supposed to be helpful to anyone? If anything, it makes me not want to go visit Shu. Damn, how tense _are_ you?”

 

“Some,” Rei huffs, pulling a pillow over his face briefly. “Gods, ah—mnn, right, trust me, he _does_ like you. Give him, ah, some time. He _just_ woke up from what he thought was a nap. I want to die, you’re so good at this. I need this, but in a _magical_ way.”

 

“Roll onto your belly,” Leo says firmly, letting go of Rei’s foot and crawling up to straddle him. “And take off your shirt, if your feet are that bad I can only imagine your shoulders. Don’t get any funny ideas, you just deserve this, is all.”

 

“You’ll never believe me, but sex is one of the last things on my mind right now,” Rei groans, flopping over obediently and fumbling half-heartedly with his shirt. It comes off in a heap and he gives up after that, collapsing face-first. “I deserve death. Kill me while you’re back there.”

 

Leo grabs a vial of oil, and tips a good amount onto Rei’s back, then starts digging his hands into huge, tense muscles. “Heh, the apothecary sells this as massage oil, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually used it that way before. Wow, you are _really_ long. Your body, I mean.”

 

“You’ll find I become even longer as I relax,” comes Rei’s muffled response. “That’s not a sex joke, I swear. Old age and stress have left me bent and hunched.”

 

“I think it’s weirder if it’s not a sex joke, actually?”

 

“Is it? I feel like you should’ve noticed that I’m very long by this point.”

 

“Yeah, but I didn’t know it was state-dependent. Ooh, wow, that’s a big knot!” Leo digs in his thumb, then pauses. “Also not a sex joke.”

 

Rei makes a pathetic little whimpering sound. “Did you know,” he wheezes, “that when certain breeds of demon wolves shift into human forms, they still have their wolf pricks?”

 

Leo pauses, then continues when it becomes obvious that Rei will just shrivel up and die if he stops. “Yours wasn’t like that. Did you do that on purpose? Did you have to like, normal-up your cock to make me not afraid? I wouldn’t have been afraid. Hey, know what Madara’s is like? I saw it once.”

 

“You _know_ I’m not even close to pureblooded demon, right?” Rei breathes, trying to keep breathing normally when Leo’s fingers continue being far more deft than expected. “Why did you see his dick? Please don’t fuck the dragon.”

 

“I’m not going to, he’s like my big sister! We were bathing, it’s nothing _weird_.” Leo pauses. “Well. His prick is weird. But being naked isn’t, it’s just free. You know, he’s got two? Or one split one, I didn’t look that close.”

 

Rei holds up a pair of fingers. “It’s the same difference, but I consider it two, because it’s more interesting. I know what they look like. I’ve seen them up close.”

 

“…Huh. I thought he wasn’t into humans. He told me if they don’t have wings, it won’t be a thing, or something.”

 

“I’m not human, either,” Rei says, amused. “And I do have wings. I do resent that I think he’s attractive, so I choose not to pursue that particular thread, most of the time. But when I was young and stupid and summoning dragons without thinking, fucking my way out of potential death seemed good.”

 

“That’s what I like about you. Always thinking on your, uh, talons. Hey, is that why your back is such a _mess_?” Leo digs in the heels of his hands under Rei’s shoulderblades. “Because this is where your wings are? Or are they, um metaphysical?”

 

“Be _nice_ , don’t mention talons, Shu clips them off,” Rei whines, clutching at a pillow beneath Leo’s merciless assault. “They’re real wings, none of this magical-feather-fluff mess. But they’re big, and unwieldy, and I get yelled at when they knock things over.”

 

“Cool. Do you stay human, or do you turn into something else? Like, is there a demon form? What’s your prick like in that form?”

 

“I don’t really have a demon form; this is it. Lean back, I’ll pull them out, and you can see for yourself,” Rei sighs. “All the creatures that make up my bloodline have relatively human-like forms…I’m not going to have terribly strange appendages, my apologies—just an affinity for plants and a prick that’s quick to get hard.”

 

“Nnnnnn, there’s a lot of stuff in my room that I don’t want knocked over, though? Let’s go outside when you want to do that, I’m working right now.” And with that, Leo moves up to Rei’s neck, which usually makes Izumi collapse into gurgles.

 

“You’re just as cruel as the rest of them, I’m not going to knock anything over, I just want to streeeetcchh…” Rei trails off, groaning helplessly and slumping down, his fingers kneading slowly into the pillow.

 

“But I can’t do that if you get your wings out! Just lie down and let me work you out!”

 

“Humans don’t get it,” comes Rei’s muffled response where he drools into a pillow. “But whatever, fine, you have magic hands.”

 

Leo pauses and looks down critically at his hands. “Is this a metaphor?” he demands. “Or is this a new talent of mine? You’re the magic king, you’d know if I developed powers, right? Extremity-specific powers?”

 

“It’s a metaphor, and you are decidedly, delightfully, nothing but a human,” Rei says with a hand fluttering up, then down, to land in a solid thump back onto the bed. “Tasty. Like paladins, but less guilt.”

 

Leo works his hands down low, to the lumbar region, kneading in at the sides of Rei’s spine. “Remind me to have you commissioned a special cushion to sit on, yours are obviously bad and lumpy if they’re turning you bad and lumpy down here. You’re rich, buy good chairs.”

 

Rei just gurgles for a moment. “No. I lie down. Or not at all. Besides, it’s lumpy because my _wings_ are _stuffed_ in there.”

 

“Cool.” Leo’s face falls a little, and he works his hands up Rei’s sides, into the big muscles around his shoulderblades now. “Hey. How come all other demons have cool, weird pricks, and I wound up with the two that just have got poles?”

 

“Define ‘all other demons’,” Rei mumbles, slowly gnawing on Leo’s pillow now. “Most of the ones I know…are fairly normal. Kanata’s. Wataru’s. Koga’s is the only one other than Madara’s that I can think of being different…”

 

“Your dog?”

 

“Yes, my dog. Technically, he’s a wolf, whatever. It’s a dog dick, with a knot and everything.”

 

“Does he lay eggs?”

 

“Wh…no. Dogs don’t lay eggs. You know this. _Wavebred_ lay eggs.”

 

Leo visibly deflates. “What about dragons? They’re reptiles, right?”

 

“Maybe?” Rei gives up and pushes himself up onto an elbow, staring back at him. “Do you want someone to lay eggs in you? Is this what this is about?”

 

Leo laughs, and it sounds a little forced as he pushes Rei’s head back down to the pillow. “Don’t be silly. Hey, um, let’s talk about, uh, taxes.”

 

“I’m just saying,” Rei says, his voice muffled down into the pillows, “I can probably come up with a shift that _can_ do that. Also, don’t push my head down unless you’re trying to make me hard.”

 

“Anything makes you hard, it’s like trying to dance among dandelions without sending any wishes to the gods. Can you make Izumi lay eggs in me?”

 

“That’s not true, some things make me very, very soft. Are you asking if I can make Sena _himself_ lay eggs in you, or if I can turn into him and lay eggs in you? Those are very different things.”

 

“Er…Rei, no offense, but in general, I always want him. And if I’m going to have you turn into anything to have sex with me, don’t make it some human I know. You gotta get _creative_.”

 

“I get that, but understand I’m trying to accommodate you, if you ever decide you really want someone to lay eggs in you,” Rei sighs, propping his chin up onto the pillow again. “You can be blunt. I _wish_ I could lay eggs in someone and it would actually do something.”

 

That brings up another point, one that Leo has been busily trying not to think about, but that always keeps popping up in his mind, resurfacing like lightweight garbage thrown into the sea of his emotions. “Heh…yeah…not like any demons or wizards could have kids. Eichi…he’s a liar, right?”

 

“Demons can reproduce. Wizards can’t. Not all demons are wizards, just because they’re magical,” Rei patiently explains. “Eichi…hmm. How to explain. He’s an Archdemon, which already puts him into an odd category. He’s not _exactly_ what I’d call a demon, even though demon is in the name. But more importantly, him being a ‘wizard’ has always been something I’m skeptical of. He certainly goes through the motions and fakes it well enough, but did he actually bloom? Who knows. I do think he has offspring, though, so if he is a true wizard, then he’s a freak of nature. No offense to Sena, heh.”

 

“He said…he could give me…you know.” Leo squirms a little, in a not-displeased way, face flushing as his blood starts to rush. “I figured you’re the only somewhat unbiased source I could ask.”

 

“…What exactly did he say?” Rei asks, sort of vaguely amused and mystified all at once. He twists back again, propping himself up onto an elbow. “I’m not making fun of you. I’m genuinely curious.”

 

“He said…” It’s easy to remember. Probably too easy. He’s probably too into the idea, and looks away, shifting back to sit on Rei’s thighs. “He said he could magic me into bearing his children. That only this generation of wizards is sterile. I really, really hate that he finds my _worst_ fetishes and just, just plays right into them! There’s no reason that should make me hard! I don’t even think I _want_ that, but the idea is…you know…”

 

Rei’s mouth twitches as he drums his fingers against one cheek. “Two things,” he says after contemplating that. “One, he’s lying about just this generation being sterile. I’m old, wizards have been sterile for quite some time. And two, isn’t the most fun sex the embarrassing kind that makes you question why the hell someone let _you_ be in charge? Oh, and three, if he can magic that into being, count me in, I want babies. I think even Shu would accept that they might be Eichi’s if he could actually make it happen.”

 

Leo lets out a pathetic groaning noise and slumps down onto Rei, thumping head against shoulder. “He’s so hot,” he moans. “I hate this? He’s _so_ hot, he pushes all of my buttons and fantasies and I miss sex that makes my mind melt.”

 

Rei twists fully onto his back, and lets a sympathetic hand pet over Leo’s hair. “There, there. Do you want some advice that I would give you that completely ignores every fact and bit of logic in this situation?”

 

“It’s to fuck him, right?” Leo sighs. “It doesn’t feel the same with the thrall. I guess that’s definitely better, but I miss the way nothing ever mattered. Everything matters to me a _lot_ , all the time.”

 

“Yes, it’s to fuck him. Leo—if he pushes all of your buttons and fantasies and you really think he’s that hot, I don’t think a magical sheepskin is going to stop you from having a good time.” Rei pushes Leo up a bit, enough to grab his face into his hands. “And _no one_ is going to judge you for it. No one needs to know. I certainly won’t say a damned thing if that’s what you want to do.”

 

Leo’s lower lip wobbles, and unbidden, tears sting his eyes as he looks away. “I just…you’re the only person who doesn’t make me feel like shit for not hating him,” he whispers. “I just think about explaining to Izumi that the literal day he came back I climbed back into bed with him, and it’s so _embarrassing_ , I feel so weak even thinking about it?”

 

“Has he ever explained his own bond to you?” Rei presses, combing Leo’s hair back from his face with careful fingers. “I’m guessing ‘no.’ Likewise, you don’t have to explain it to anyone, even Sena. It’s your personal business. You aren’t abandoning Sena or your kingdom for Eichi, and if you start to try, I won’t let you.”

 

“…Sometimes I don’t hate that you have me in thrall,” Leo says, so softly that even Rei can hardly hear him. “I don’t always trust myself to make the right choices. But I know if I ever did something really, really horrible, you’d stop me. You really think…it’s all right?”

 

“Leo…” Rei sighs, crushing him down into his chest. “You’re asking a sex wizard if it’s good to follow your horny impulses and tumble someone, bear that in mind,” he says with a quiet snort. “But I don’t think any real harm can come from it, not really. He can’t _do_ anything right now, except fuck you the way you want. I don’t think it’s terrible to reduce him to ‘Royal Sex Toy’ for a time, anyway. It might take his ego down a notch.”

 

Leo’s eyes widen, and he sits up, mouth slightly parted. “I…I could totally have a Royal Sex Toy,” he mutters. “Oh, gods. What if I made him an official concubine? That would be fun. I mean, funny. I mean…erm…your back is fine now, right?”

 

“Much better than fine, thank you,” Rei says, pushing himself upright and trying not to look as amused as he feels. “I, for one, think that idea is hilarious. I can’t decide if it would piss him off or…what he would do, actually, but, heh. It isn’t as if he can blow anything up right now if he’s mad.”

 

“I just really need it,” Leo says frankly, rubbing at his hair. “After talking about it, even more. By the way, you know those dreams I used to have? The ones where he’d give me advice, that you said were just echoes and shattered bits of magic? It was really him, he remembers the conversations. Isn’t that wild? Can’t believe he really told me to buy a collar.”

 

Rei frowns at that for a moment, not exactly wanting to think about the magic involved with that process and how Eichi clearly has little magic tendrils in more places than he’d thought—but, alas, that is not the primary brain of his engaged at the moment, and thus—“Did you? Buy a collar?”

 

“Pure leather with a golden tag. I promised him he gets to see it once the Gates are closed, heh.”

 

“…Uh huh. You better keep that promise, at least, or he’s never going to take you seriously. That’s hot, I have to admit, thank you for the nice imagery.”

 

“And thank _you_ for the nice advice.” Leo beams. “Could you, ah, maybe take Madara somewhere for lunch, or something? I have, erm, something to attend to…”

 

“Maybe _he’ll_ chew on my wings for awhile,” Rei sniffs, plucking at Leo’s ponytail. “Yes, I’ll handle him. If anything goes less than perfectly, however, do _not_ hesitate in reaching for one of us. I’m not going to say ‘I told you so’ because I certainly didn’t in the first place, you know?”

 

Leo smiles with relief. “Thank you. You can tell Mama what I’m doing, just not…before I do it, heh. You’re a good friend.”

 

“I’m going to _tell him_ that I need attention. It’s more effective than you’d think. Don’t worry, we’re both getting something out of this,” Rei hums, tousling Leo’s hair as he plucks up his shirt. “Just don’t tell Eichi I encouraged this. I don’t want him to think I’m being tolerant.”

 

“At least he won’t think I’m your pathetic slave thrall,” Leo points out, and grabs a cloak, tucking his hair carefully back inside the hood. Almost everyone around the palace knows his “clever disguise” already, but it’s important that he keeps making the effort. “Have fun. Tell me weird dick stories. Don’t lay any eggs without me!”

 

“I’ll see what I can do,” Rei flippantly says, shouldering his own cloak before he opens the door to Leo’s chambers, flashing Madara a smile as he shuts it behind him. “The king is resting. Let’s go flying, shall we?”

 


	21. Chapter 21

 

Hiyori is everything _but_ satisfying after so long.

 

That being said, at least chewing on him for a hour is _something_. Eichi doesn’t feel like he’s going to die—and he usually feels like he’s going to die. The air comes into his lungs a little bit easier, the world focuses a bit more clearly, and in general, he’s just less…wobbly, like a newly born colt tumbling after his mother on unsteady legs.

 

None of that is necessary. He’s the—well, he _was_ the Emperor, damn it. Some dignity comes with that.

 

Interrupting them is the smell of Rei outside of his door, and Eichi growls, low and rumbling in the back of his throat. Hiyori, a sweaty, floppy pile of limbs in the bed at this point, doesn’t even seem to notice, and Eichi claws himself out of the tangled sheets, casually pulling his tunic on over his head and padding his way to the door. “ _What_ , you arse,” he snaps, wrenching it open, taloned fingertips drumming into the doorframe. “If you’re here to take me into custody or pose sanctions or whatever, consider that the _king_ has already requested me to be—“

 

But it isn’t Rei. It’s Leo—damn that thrall, it’s _tricky_ —and Eichi stops short, shutting his mouth with an audible snap. “Oh. Hello again.” The long, black curves of talons neatly click back into his fingers, resembling normal, human nails immediately. That was not very angelic of him, was it? “Do you need something else?”

 

Leo looks up, entirely nonplussed about being threatened with weird talons by a man snarling and looking in general like he’s going to bite Leo’s head off and spit out the crunchy bits. “I’m curious about something,” he says cheerfully, pulling back his hood just enough to flash red hair up at Eichi. “How much of your dignity do you really care about? What do you want to do, in this world?”

 

Eichi pauses visibly, not exactly prepared for that line of questioning. “Forgive me,” he finally says. “I’m not entirely following. Dignity, I feel, is a malleable construct depending on what kind of satisfaction comes out any particular situation. I’m assuming you have a…situation? In mind?”

 

“Yeah. See…” Leo pauses, then looks around the corridor. Then he says bluntly, “I’m not interested in torturing myself. I am interested in rolling around with you and feeling like I used to….but I’m not interested in either of us dying from it, either you from being starved or me from being eaten. So, have you got any ideas about how to fix our problems? Or should I try to solve it?”

 

Eichi’s lips purse. Instinctively, he wants to reiterate what he’s said earlier—rip that thrall off, be done with it, come back to me, be mine—but after having at least a snack, it’s easier to hear that such things sound a bit, mm, desperate. That’s less attractive. He heaves a sigh instead, crossing his arms. “It sounds like you spoke to Rei at length,” he says, as neutrally as he can manage. “I suppose that’s…fine, but then you should know there’s not much I can do to change my own situation. Or yours, for that matter.”

 

“So, that was your plan?” Leo asks, cocking his head to the side. “Claw your way back to life to either kill me or starve to death? Damn, I told Rei I was sure you had a better plan than, uh, nothing.”

 

“…It isn’t as if I didn’t have a plan.” Eichi stiffens, leaning back. “There’s a reason why there are so many Sorrow’s Gates open with Archdemons milling about them, and why the Archdemons that are here are my old comrades. I helped them back here. I’m content to gnaw on them if it means I can stay here. There’s more to it than that, but—I wasn’t planning on having you die.”

 

Leo steps forward, close enough that he can butt his head gently into Eichi’s chest. “Hey. The reason I was so, uh…the way I was with you? You run over me sometimes. You can’t do that anymore. I have to be king. But it doesn’t mean I’m just going to be horrible to you. I just want to know. Do you have any interest in using your powers to make the country I love and work to protect…better? Does that appeal to you in any way? I’m not wasting my time and my affection, right? I want to hear it from you. Because if not, I have another plan for you.”

 

Eichi’s hands twitch. Instead of crushing Leo into him, he tries, very carefully, to do the opposite, and instead, simply let his hands rest against those lean shoulders, squeezing slowly. “I spent my entire life in this realm trying to make it _better_ ,” he lowly points out. “Whether all of it was agreed with or not, that was what I was trying to do.”

 

“I know,” Leo says quietly, for Eichi’s ears alone. “I know that. That’s why I’m here asking you if that’s still what you want, instead of freaking out like everyone else. I remember the stories my grandfather told me about you. I remember how bright you shone to me when I was young, I…” He swallows hard. “I just want to know if you still care about that. Or if you care about me, separate from our bond. I want to know…who you want to be. What you want, the real you.”

 

“You’re one of the only things I have left.”

 

Eichi exhales a hot breath and takes a step back into the room, pulling Leo with him, letting the door slam shut as he presses Leo back against it. “Don’t _ask_ me if I care about you, you should know the answer to that,” he hotly says, gaze boring into Leo’s, glowing in the dim light of Hiyori’s curtained room. “In an ideal world? I want my Academy back. I want _you_ back. You’re telling me I can’t have either, so I don’t _know_ what there’s left for me here.”

 

Leo fists his hands suddenly in Eichi’s hair, wriggling up between him and the door by sheer leg strength alone, bringing his eyes into close range, wild and green. “I’m not telling you you can’t have me,” he whispers fiercely, not at all intimidated by Eichi’s otherworldly gaze. “I’m trying to—I just want you to tell me what we’re going to turn this country into. Give me something—I don’t want to be the king that lost the kingdom because he was only thinking of the way the world melted when he got kissed! Give me something! You owe me that!”

 

“Fine!” Eichi’s hands grip Leo’s upper arms, pinning him in place, holding him there as his own chest heaves. “Fine, then—then what you _want?_ ” he spits out, voice edging on desperate. “You want me to close those gates—fine, I’ll do it. I’ll be your damned attack dog if that’s what you want. It’s not like it’s unheard of for kings to keep wizards on retainer, far from it, your father had half a dozen! The nastiest, most explosive ones he could find, and I’m _better_ than that. I’ll protect this damned city better than your dragon could, how’s that?”

 

Leo lurches forward, squeezing tears out of his eyes as he meets Eichi’s mouth with his own, teeth dragging at his lips, legs tangled around Eichi’s hips. The floodgates of his emotions burst free, and even if there’s still sort of a film of Rei between them, his body remembers this lean, powerful one, still aches with the memory, still yearns for that touch. “I’m yours,” he whispers, hands fisting in Eichi’s shirt. “You’re mine, you’re mine, but gods, I’m yours, you know that—“

 

Leo smells like Rei, but so does everything else around here, so to hell with it.

 

Eichi crushes him to the door, a hand slamming into the wood as he takes that pretty, soft mouth as roughly as he’d wanted to earlier, but didn’t dare to courtesy of _trying_ to behave. So much for that; Leo’s mouth is still as hot and sweet as Eichi remembers it, and even with Rei’s scent in his nose, it makes him groan.

 

“If I have to make you my Royal Concubine just so I can have this every day,” Leo growls, nails biting into Eichi’s scalp, legs squeezing tight around him, heart thundering against his chest, “I will. That’s how far I’m willing to go to…nnnh…”

 

“Sounds like a scandal waiting to happen,” Eichi breathes, releasing Leo’s mouth to yank open his collar and fasten his mouth to his neck, sucking hard enough to immediately leave a hickey in his wake. A low, rumbling growl escapes against Leo’s skin as he rocks up, letting his cock rub up between Leo’s thighs, unapologetically, achingly hard.

 

Leo’s mouth starts to salivate, and he whimpers, so hungry, so aroused he can barely think. Eichi’s mouth on his neck is enough to set off fire under his skin, and he squirms, pinioned and helpless, hotter with every passing second. “If you don’t put that in me right now,” he moans, spreading his legs wider, clinging to Eichi’s neck like a lifeline, “I’m going to have guards hold you down so I can get on it.”

 

Eichi snorts out a laugh at that, biting Leo’s neck once more before stepping back from the door, easily dragging Leo with him and tossing him down onto the bed. “Don’t mind him,” he casually says, tossing his shirt over Hiyori’s unconscious head before rolling him right off the bed in a swaddle of blankets. “He’s going to be like that for awhile. Mmn, do you want everyone in the palace to hear their king scream?” Even while asking the question, he’s still prying Leo’s thighs apart, deftly unfastening his trousers to yank them down Leo’s legs. “Or should I fuck you facedown so you can try and muffle how you sound like a little cat in heat?”

 

Leo’s body sings, feeling truly alive after years of being dormant, inflamed under the skin and giving him the energy to conquer the world in one fell swoop, if he wanted. He starts to shake with it, certain he’s going to be overwhelmed again, ready to let it happen, no matter how frightening—but that doesn’t happen. The heat stays at that nearly-overpowering level, just driving him to ecstasy, but not pushing him over into unconscious, rapturous adulation. Confidence bolstered, feeling like he could actually make it through this with his mind intact, Leo eagerly shifts over onto his hands and knees, wiggling his ass a little in the air. “You feel bigger when I’m like this,” he breathes, pupils blown. “The way you cover me with your body, it’s been so long, I want to feel all of you, you know? Let’s see if you can really make your king scream.” The inflection is purposeful. Eichi had said ‘their king.’ Leo had said ‘your king.’ The difference is important.

 

Eichi’s mouth twitches. The trousers get thrown over his shoulder, carelessly abandoned, and one hand swiftly comes down in a sharp, stinging slap across Leo’s ass, squeezing, kneading the reddened skin afterwards as Eichi leans over him from behind, nosing up into his hair, mouthing a hot, wet kiss to the back of his neck. Right there, at least, he smells the most like _Leo_ , and it makes his blood _thrum._ “You’re going to wish you hadn’t said that,” he breathes, reaching down with his other hand to get his cock out. “Be a good boy, I left the oil on the pillow above your head. Hand it to me.”

 

Leo grabs the oil, but his hand is vice-tight on it before he hands it over. His eyes glitter, looking back over his shoulder, even as his skin reddens, his breath coming faster and faster with every passing second. “You’re up against…a lot of reeeeeally good memories,” he cautions. “I’m going to be judging you against them, so make sure it’s good.”

 

“So are you.”

 

The oil is swiftly dumped into the small of Leo’s arched back, and Eichi drags a hand through it, his fingers slick and dripping before easing down to that tight hole. Two slide in without hesitation, sinking in deep to the second knuckle, and Eichi’s cock twitches against the back of Leo’s thigh, dripping as it rubs there, achingly hard. “Are you still as good at taking my cock as I remember?” he lowly asks.

 

The squeak Leo lets out is high-pitched and wild, and his thighs wobble already, making him in danger of falling before a heartbeat has passed. He gasps, biting at the pillow, and his eyes start to sting with tears. “I, ah…that is, it’s…I still want it more than ever,” he pants, face red and sweaty. “It’s, um…been a while…nnh, even your fingers are…”

 

“Too much?” Eichi archly finishes, twisting his fingers to press them in deeper, stroking, spreading mercilessly to reclaim what is _his._ “But you like that. I remember,” he breathes, teeth catching the edge of Leo’s ear, licking up a droplet of sweat that drips down from his hairline, “all the times you’d whine and tell me it’s too much while still wriggling down onto my cock like you’d _die_ without it…”

 

Leo keens deep in his chest, kicking his knees apart, trying not to pant and squirm and beg like a virgin, unable to help himself. “It—nnh, but—it’s been—so long since anyone—“ _And I’m so glad it’s you, I wanted it to be you, it never feels right in me unless it’s you._ “A-and anyway, you like it w-w-when I tell you it’s too, nnh, aaaah, too much!”

 

 _Guilty_ , Eichi thinks, with an approving, wet kiss to the back of Leo’s neck his only response as he wriggles those fingers out. Oh, two probably isn’t enough, Leo’s still as tight as ever, but his cock’s hard, and waiting sounds so horrible that he might die (again).

 

His cock slides up against the cleft of Leo’s ass, through the slickness of oil left behind, harder than he ever remembers being in any recent memory as Leo squirms and pants and thrashes. A firm hand slides up between Leo’s shoulders, shoving him down, holding him there, facedown into the bed as Eichi guides his cock to that twitching, slick hole, rubbing there just for a moment before sinking inside with a low, hungry grunt of effort.

 

The _heat_ that wraps around his cock takes his breath away, and Eichi pants into Leo’s hair, shoving in as far as he can manage—about half-way, before Leo’s body clamps down. “Be good,” he breathlessly orders, reaching a hand around to pinch one rock-hard nipple. “Do you really think just because you’re king now, no one’s going to _properly_ breed you?”

 

Leo collapses.

 

There’s no other word for the way he sags down into a useless heap, little eager, ragged gasps ripping free from his mouth. His whole body burns, the tight, uncomfortable cramping in his guts making him whine and writhe, pathetically impaled. “H-hurts,” he chokes out, when it feels like Eichi is trying to drill a hole in him with a troll’s cudgel. At the same time, sparks fly off underneath his skin, as if he’s being dragged into pleasure over sharp rocks, as if nothing suddenly matters except that objectively enormous length working its way inside him. “M-more.” His voice is a broken thing, and his cock rubs pathetically against the bedsheets, his body straining forward at the nipple as if Eichi could actually do something with them. “M-make good, make good on that promise, a-am I not your, your mare? Emperor?”

 

Eichi’s grip shifts, an arm slinging low about Leo’s waist to pull him up, back, into each deliberate grind of Eichi’s hips to get his cock further inside as he bends over Leo, covering him with his body. That little title, so meaningless now, still goes straight to his cock, making his next thrust less than kind—but it’s worth it, when skin slaps to skin, and Eichi bottoms out with a low, panting groan. “That’s exactly what you are,” he mutters, breath hot against Leo’s shoulder as he sets his knees to the bed, hikes up Leo’s hips, dragging him back onto his cock as he fucks in. “No wonder you’ve been going mad—no one’s—nhh—t-taken care of you when you’re in heat, have they?”

 

“What happens to a m-mare in heat if, nnh…” Leo spaces out mid-sentence, as his body roils with heat, making his mouth hang open, slack and drooling as his eyes cross. He abandons holding the bed. There’s no reason to brace himself when Eichi will drag him where he wants anyway, and better is to steal a hand down to his own belly, feeling the thick, hard presence of Eichi inside him. “I’m, I’m either,” he pants, laughing a little insanely, shoving back onto Eichi’s cock with absolutely no strength, “g-going to have your child, or throw up, fuck me harder—“

 

“This is why you’re my favorite toy,” Eichi rasps against Leo’s ear before doing just that. His hands grab at Leo’s thighs, fingers gripping hard enough to leave bruises as he spreads them further apart, leaving him open to be fucked as hard as Eichi wants—as they _both_ want. The sight of Leo reaching down to feel where Eichi’s cock presses inside of him with each thrust makes Eichi’s mouth go dry, and he shudders as he deliberately angles his thrusts, fucking down harder, swearing he can almost feel the play of Leo’s fingers over him from the outside. “If I come inside you when it’s in this far,” he pants, “you’re definitely—having my son.”

 

It doesn’t matter if it’s true. What matters is that Eichi’s words fall into Leo like stones into a pool, churning him up until he’s a raging torrent, squirming desperately on Eichi’s driving cock. Each word, said in that intent, careless, eager tone, makes his skin tighten, his insides ache, until Leo doesn’t know where he ends and Eichi begins, mind stolen as surely as it had been before Rei had intervened, and thank the gods for that. “Th-then…you’ll really…have to, have to keep me, in your r-r-room forever, all day, just to, to serve…to serve you, r-right?”

 

“In _my_ room?” The question is incredulous, even between the breathless, ragged panting that leaves Eichi’s mouth as he braces over Leo, fingers curling into the bedsheets tightly enough to rip them as his cock sinks in, barely pulling out for fear of losing how _good_ it feels to be buried inside. “Fuck that,” Eichi groans, his face burying down into Leo’s sweaty hair. “I’m going to sit on your throne and put you in my lap and when I’m sick and tired of listening to your court, I’m going to sit you on my cock and fuck you right in front of all of them,” he whispers, and damned if that image isn’t all it really takes.

 

Somehow, it feels as if he’s able to thrust in a _little_ deeper still when he comes, even though Eichi’s certain he’s gotten his whole cock into that tight little body before. He groans against Leo’s skin, biting down when he can’t help himself, flooding Leo with pulse after pulse as he comes hard enough to make his vision go white.

 

Leo expects to be swept up in that ecstasy, but cruelly, his body doesn’t let him finish just yet, keeping him dangling on that ecstatic precipice between pleasure and pain, leaving him wrung-out, desperate, electrified as he rocks urgently back, tears coming to his eyes. “F-finish it, please,” he whimpers, hands spasming as he tries to yank at the bed, twisting deeper into Eichi’s arms as if he’s never needed anything else. “P-please, please, don’t—don’t leave me like this, call me—need you to say it—“ This is Rei’s fault, Leo is going to kill him.

 

Eichi, even dazed from orgasm, sweaty, and panting, doesn’t have to think about that one. “Mm? ‘It’?” he echoes with a ragged little laugh, hands trembling as they pull Leo back onto his still hard cock, not letting him get away. Watching him squirm is even better like this, when he’s already overstimulated to the point that it has an edge of pain to it. “Ahh…never mind, I know. Be good, kitty. Didn’t you miss the way my cock made you feel?”

 

Leo, in the middle of mentally calling Rei every mean name he’s ever heard of and a few he’s inventing, cries out when Eichi strikes him just right, when his words strike that deep chord inside of him that hasn’t been plucked for half a decade. The cry spikes into a scream when his body convulses, and suddenly, entirely goes limp. “Oh,” he whimpers, when he comes back to consciousness, and doesn’t bother opening his eyes.

 

“Oh?” Eichi repeats blissfully, slumped down over Leo’s back. Being plastered against Leo courtesy of sweaty skin is one of the best things that Eichi thinks he’s ever felt, actually, and like this, it’s almost easy to forget the lingering scent of Rei in the air, and that layer of magic keeping him from taking a proper _bite_. Ahh, maybe that’s for the best right now. He’d eat all of Leo right now if he could.

 

“Yeah. Oh. I’m never moving again, build a throne under me here.”

 

“With me still balls deep? Sounds like something we’d both like.”

 

“Until the eggs push you out, yep.”

 

Eichi pauses, and idly slides a hand up Leo’s slick belly, pressing down deliberately. “Hmmm. I wonder how many are in here.”

 

Leo yelps, and his cock jerks, spilling again onto the bed. He tightens up, shivering a little. “P-probably over a dozen. They’ll get bigger, of course. Now that you’ve fertilized them. I don’t know how eggs work.”

 

“Ahh, don’t do that unless you want me to have you again,” Eichi murmurs, sliding his fingers away, amused. “I can tell it’s been awhile, so I’d rather not use you up all at once.”

 

“Don’t make me beg you to stop,” Leo says, panting shallowly, breathing around what feels like an enormous weight inside of him. “D-don’t think I can.”

 

“Tempting,” Eichi exhales, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as he forces himself to take control and not just haul Leo back onto him again and take him for another ride. He forces himself to sit back, pushing his hair out of his face—yes, focus on that, it’s too long and he needs a haircut and Leo is _so_ lovely but he’s going to ignore that in favor of very, very carefully pulling out. “If I start again, we’re never going to stop and there’s going to be nothing of you left,” he manages with a breathy little laugh, petting a hand down Leo’s spine. “Even when I can’t feel the bond, there’s just—something about you.”

 

“I think it’s love.” Leo’s voice is very quiet, and he grabs at one of the pillows, yanking it to his chest, burying his face in the fabric. “I love you, too. It’s fine, you don’t have to say it.”

 

Eichi’s head cocks curiously before he flops down, sprawling his way across the bed next to Leo. “Do you?” he asks, sounding a little confused. “I thought you would’ve hated me, all things considered—and that you loved that…what’s his name, the grumpy half-breed snake. Ugh, you have such a thing for reptiles, I don’t understand.”

 

“Don’t want to talk about it,” Leo complains, and throws a leg over Eichi, burrowing into his chest. “Just wanna lay here for a while. Got good sex for the first time in a while. Cuddle me.”

 

That odd warmth in his chest definitely has nothing to do with sex, so that’s…something. Eichi obeys, wrapping his arms around Leo as he breathes slowly, shutting his eyes as he nuzzles his face into the top of Leo’s head. “I couldn’t even touch you before like this without fucking you,” he muses. “I suppose I don’t _hate_ this arrangement…”

 

“Don’t worry. I won’t insist that you thank Rei.” Leo cracks one eye open, amused. “Even if he’s the reason we’re able to be like this without hurting each other.”

 

Eichi immediately and theatrically gags. “I’d rather kill myself,” he bluntly says. “I don’t need a reminder of him, I can smell him _everywhere_ on you—and around this whole palace. It’s those dogs.”

 

“Shh. Shh. No one cares. Cuddle me or die.”

 

“You can’t smell it like I do,” Eichi whines, even as he squeezes Leo tighter. “Be nice to me, you think I have the _best_ dick, I clawed my way out of hell so you could have it!”

 

“It’s the best,” Leo agrees. “But if you mention it again, I’m going to need it again. Listen. Listen. It’s been a while. A man has needs.”

 

“I’m not judging you, nor am I refusing you. I’m just warning you, I might start eating my way through that thrall. I can’t _really_ stop myself.”

 

“Rei said it was like a magical sheepskin. I don’t think that sounds good to eat your way through…”

 

“If you say his name one more time,” Eichi cheerfully says, “I’m never putting my dick in you again. I liked when you didn’t trust him.”

 

“Too bad. He let me get that good dick again. I’m grateful to him.” Leo gently bites Eichi’s chest. “So either hold me or fuck me, stop threatening.”

 

Eichi fumes for a moment, then drops it, begrudgingly. “I’m holding you, I’m holding you,” he crossly says, idly tugging out the tie in Leo’s hair, wanting it down and pettable. “Tell me, Your Majesty. How else do you plan on using me?”

 

“…I did it, you know.”

 

Leo’s voice is soft, but urgent, serious, as he splays his hands out on Eichi’s chest, looking up to meet his eyes searchingly. “What you advised me. I don’t know…if you heard about it. But I did it. I got rid of every lying sack of shit in the Capital and replaced them with my own people. I’m…the priests say I’m either going to rip the country in half, or I’m going to save it. Will you help me? Because I’m asking you to or because you want to, whatever, but will you…will you really help me?”

 

Eichi exhales a slow, soft breath, his chest rising and falling underneath the splay of Leo’s fingers. “If you aren’t throwing me back into that hellpit,” he says after a moment, lifting one hand to curl his fingers over Leo’s, “then I will do almost anything. It isn’t as if I was trying to ruin this country in this first place, you know.”

 

“I know.” Leo leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of Eichi’s fingers. “I’ve done some bad stuff I didn’t mean to, too. Neither of us are so old we don’t need to learn from our mistakes anymore, right?”

 

“I think you’re vastly underestimating how old I am.”

 

“Ehhh, really? How old? A hundred? Two hundred? I’d be like a little kid to you!”

 

“Umm…I mean, you’re more like an unhatched egg? I’m waaay older than Rei.”

 

Leo scowls. “I’m not unhatched. I’m hatched for sure. You wouldn’t fuck an egg, would you?”

 

Eichi’s eyebrows raise. “I just did, so yes. If you’re hatched, then you’re like a chick that’s still wet.”

 

Leo makes a face, then considers, as if this bears some further thought. “I’ve been alive for over two decades,” he says slowly. “How…how many times have you been in love, anyway?”

 

“That’s a very difficult thing to ask someone like me,” Eichi grouses, pulling a pillow over Leo’s face. “‘Love’ is so hard to define. Don’t you humans have problems with it, too?”

 

“Mmmphmm.” Leo slowly drags the pillow down, propping up his chin on it, gazing thoughtfully at Eichi. “How many people have you spent a lifetime with, then? How many children do you have? I feel like we should know this kind of thing about each other. I’ll start. One, I hope. Your turn.”

 

Heaving a sigh, Eichi flops over onto his back. “Fine. I don’t know how many children. Some, maybe? I never _met_ them, not really. Oh, but that one blond…the one your half-breed likes. I can tell he’s one of mine. Several generations removed, but…” 

 

Leo whistles slowly, and crawls up onto Eichi’s chest, legs straddling his stomach. “Have you ever cared about one of them? Waaaaaay back when you were young?”

 

Eichi stares up at him, blinking slowly. “No. If they had been born in the Shadowlands, I probably would’ve eaten them.”

 

“What, really?” Leo cocks his head, trying to wrap his head around the concept. He licks his lips, then smooths his hair down, meeting Eichi’s somewhat alien eyes. “Is that where you were born? I’m assuming you were born, not formed in a volcano or something.”

 

“Mm. In the depths, as far down as someone can go.” Eichi’s eyes lid, and he slides his hands to Leo’s hips, absently stroking a thumb over his hipbone. “Archdemons…well, none of us want to be there. It’s why we’d sooner tear ourselves to pieces coming up here than stay. It’s still better. Rei does so love to paint a picture of our kind as being bloodthirsty monsters, but if we’re like that, it’s only because we’re starving and crushed underneath the weight of every other magical thing in the Shadowlands, _his_ kind first and foremost.”

 

“What makes you different from him?” Leo asks curiously, tracing patterns on Eichi’s chest, fingertips dipping in and out of each little swell of muscle and bone. “You’re both demons of some kind, right? Not, heh, not an angel like I thought, obviously…”

 

Eichi sniffs at that, obviously a bit ruffled. “We’re not even close to the same breed,” he says haughtily. “Understand there’s a reason why we’re pushed to the depths of the Shadowlands—they fear us. _Everyone, every thing_ within the Shadowlands does. My kind was granted power from seraphs long, long ago, until we fell there. Rei is a greasy little mix of Bloodbred and Greenbred and a dash of human to make him more palatable to you lot.”

 

“So…you’re stronger? And that’s what makes you higher up than him? Or is it like, I’m way higher in status than, say, my stableboy, but he could probably lift me into the air and crash my head through a wall with his big arms?”

 

“When I was at my peak,” Eichi huffs, “I could break Rei over my knee. Or at least, that’s what I’d like to say, but our magic directly cancels one another out, it’s so _annoying._ In theory, that’s what should happen, but instead, for us to fight is just a waste of time. Nowadays, because he’s not letting me _feed_ —“ He punctuates that with a dig of his nails into Leo’s hips. “There’s, infuriatingly, no contest. His power is disgustingly muted in this realm, but even still. Insofar as _status_ , of course I’m higher, I’m the true Emperor and he’s an imposter of a gross little mixed breed that shouldn’t be ruling the Academy _or_ the Shadowlands.”

 

Leo considers that for a long few minutes, slowly tapping his finger against his lips, shifting his hips just a bit at the dig of Eichi’s nail. “Do people in the Shadowlands care, though?” he finally asks. “I heard they don’t care about status that much, only if you can back it up with strength. I really should pay a state visit over there one of these days, it’s the only neighboring country I’ve never visited. Could you take me?”

 

“…I could,” Eichi slowly answers, a frown on his lips. “But I won’t.”

 

“Eh? Why not? I’d be polite.”

 

“And no one else will be. You’re supposed to be mine, but you smell like you’re Rei’s. Creatures in the Shadowlands would make a game of trying to take you from me.”

 

A low shiver snakes its way through Leo’s body at the idea, and he slumps forward, face red when his cock starts to twitch. “That’s…supposed to be scary, yeah? In a bad way?”

 

“Yes,” Eichi deadpans, sliding an arm possessively around Leo’s waist. “It is, you weird little thing. You know, I’m all about taking what I want by force, but in the Shadowlands, it wouldn’t be _fun_ for you. Or me.”

 

“Listen. Listen. Sometimes ill-advised things make my prick hard. I might not like it, but the idea of you doing something like that…it’s good.”

 

“I think you’re misunderstanding. In the state I’m in, because I _can’t_ feed properly, I wouldn’t be able to do a damned thing. I wouldn’t be the one fucking you stupid to prove a point.”

 

Leo opens his mouth, then closes it, frowning. “No, that’s not the way I want it to go. Well, stupid fantasy, anyway. If Rei wasn’t stopping you from feeding, you’d just kill me, right?”

 

Eichi’s head cocks, and he pushes himself up onto his elbows. “Is that what he told you?”

 

“I mean, yeah. He said you couldn’t help it, that’s why he put the sheepskin on me. That you were slurping my life energy away.”

 

Eichi sniffs, annoyed. “The insinuation I have no control over it…yes, he’s right, I definitely would be feeding on you like that if I could, but I wouldn’t _kill you._ I know how to stop before that happens. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be my mate. You’re fairly hard to kill in that manner, anyway. Your line is decided from seraphim and paladins, there’s a tasty little string of energy in there directly connected to that and if I could just pull at _that_ …”

 

“Royal blood is the best,” Leo says cheerfully. “So, would it really drain away all my energy and essence like he says? He said even if I didn’t die I could wind up a dried up husk, is that right?”

 

Eichi purses his lips for a moment, stopping himself from immediately, vehemently disagreeing just because it’s _Rei_. “…I don’t know,” he finally, begrudgingly admits. “Before you, I…fed on wizards. One almost exclusively, for years and years. So I don’t know what would happen if I did that to you because you’re just a normal human.”

 

“Rei thinks I’d die,” Leo repeats, and squirms a little, getting under the covers, head resting on Eichi’s chest. “But he doesn’t know _everything_ , he also said you could never come back to me. What happened to that wizard?”

 

“Rei didn’t assume I had friends,” Eichi dryly says, dragging his fingers slowly through Leo’s hair, toying with the longer strands of it down the back of his neck. “That wizard is in the West, fucking a little slut of a prophet now. Ah, my apologies, that was rude.” He does _not_ sound sorry.

 

Leo scowls, though not at the deprecation. “Lucky ass,” he grumbles. “Getting to be fed on like that for years. I want you to take me without that stupid sheepskin in the way for decades, I can’t even _imagine_ how good you’d feel after all that time.”

 

“Tell Rei that,” Eichi moodily says. “I can’t dislodge a thrall like this, but I want to eat you whole all the same. It’s just like trying to bite into venison that still has the fur on. Ugh. Sex wizards have it so easy…”

 

“Not fair that Rei gets to eat Shu all the time,” Leo agrees, grumbling. “But as long as you’re not sure I wouldn’t wither up and die, It’s prooooobably a good idea to leave it on. The realm needs a good king. And I’m just getting started.”

 

“That’s all well and good, but don’t expect me to behave around him.” Eichi winds around a strand of Leo’s hair about his fingers. “He took you from me. You’re right here, but he still _has you._ I can’t not try and kill him for it. It’s sort of instinct, I think…ah, and I can’t stop thinking about how much I want him dead. Just smelling you makes me angry. I suppose it’s only fair. I _did_ keep his mate under similar lock and key for some time, but that doesn’t make me any less angry.”

 

“I mean…” Leo squirms a little, basking in the intensity of Eichi’s gaze, eyes lidding at the hand in his hair. “I mean, you _did_ do it first, right?”

 

“Mmm…I _suppose._ Oh, _and_ I fucked his original bride, so he didn’t like that, either.” Eichi’s lips twitch. “But he’s not playing fair. I don’t fault him for it, but don’t expect me to take it lying down. If I’m your wizard, I don’t answer to the Academy. That’s how this is going to be.”

 

“…I think I’d prefer that anyway,” Leo says quietly, with a tiny, dark smile. “And I _definitely_ like you admitting you’re mine. Just so we’re clear. Bec—“

 

Some of those words hit him too late, and he blinks, startled. “Wait. Rei’s never been with a woman, he said so.”

 

“Oh, yes, he’s useless. Sorry, the term applies to both men and women in the Shadowlands, we don’t care.” Eichi’s eyebrows raise in amusement. “Shu existing was a _problem_.”

 

Leo’s eyebrows raise. “Heh. Juicy, huh? Nn, if the term applies to men and women, how do you know who’s the bride?”

 

“The one who’s being eaten, obviously.”

 

“….Shadowlands marriages don’t last long, huh?”

 

“The term ‘eaten’ is such a finite one here, I forget. I suppose ‘fed upon’ is better, in this case? Ah, but correct, most marriages don’t last long. This one was supposed to, though, but then Rei had to go and get himself bonded. Ritsu was already so angry with him before that, and had already been climbing his way into my bed for years, so honestly, it’s no surprise he ran off to play at being human for so long…half-breeds are so temperamental. Pretty, though.”

 

“Ritsu…must be a pretty common name in the Shadowlands, huh?” Leo tries, attempting to make sense out of the information.

 

“You’re very cute. Try again.”

 

“Nu-uh. Other option too weird.”

 

“Demons are demons. We don’t care about that sort of thing.”

 

“Ew, seriously? Gross. That’s—I’d never, _ever_ have sex with my sister. Demon or whatever.”

 

“And you’re human, so I’m unsurprised,” Eichi says, shrugging. “Demons aren’t…really _related_ in the same way, anyway. Even if we come from the same parents, it’s still not the same. Those two share a mother but not a father, so they’re even _less_ related. Ah, it’s complicated. I just want to _eat_ ,” he complains, throwing an arm over his face as he flops back. “Hiyori is a useless snack at best, and you want me to go close giant, gaping chasms into the Shadowlands, I’ll die…”

 

“No, you won’t,” Leo says pleasantly, hand dipping a little lower, fingertips brushing over soft hairs, trailing lower and lower on Eichi’s belly. “You’re unkillable, right? Even if you die, you’ll just come back to me?”

 

“If I fail, _you’ll_ die,” Eichi darkly says, skin twitching underneath the drag of Leo’s fingers. “And so will your entire kingdom. Nnh, Rei chewed on you, I can feel it—maybe he’ll trade me, just one bite from Shu would be a good hold over…” 

 

Leo scowls, and withdraws his hand, rolling away to the edge of the bed without another word.

 

“Eh?” Eichi blinks, startled, then huffs, rolling after him and grabbing Leo back with both arms around his waist. “I’m _hungry_ ,” he whines, burying his face into Leo’s hair. “You don’t want me to starve, right? I don’t have to fuck him, I’m not a sex wizard, I just want a bite of his magic!”

 

“Let go,” Leo growls, though he doesn’t make much of an attempt to get free. “You want to bite him so bad, go ahead! I’ll go back to the palace, and you’re not allowed in!”

 

“Nooo. I have no place to go, Keito probably hates me, too, because I won’t go to the Sandlands and start a new empire with him now. Le~o~, it’s not going to happen anyway, Rei will kill me! I’m just hungry, let me complaaaain…”

 

“You’re _supposed_ to be talking about how good it is to be with me again,” Leo snarls, legs kicking, a little more seriously now, “and how you’d do it again for one sniff of my hair, not about _him_ , if you’re going to eat someone it should be me!” Deep down, he’s mildly dismayed at how irrational he’s capable of being, even _ready_ to be, but that doesn’t make him struggle any less.

 

“I _have_ been doing that. And if I keep going, you’re not going to like it as much.” Eichi grabs him by the arm, far more roughly than he normally would, and yanks Leo back onto his back, shoving him down with a hand around his throat as he leans over him. “If I take even a single bite out of a Nightcloak, I could rip that thrall right off of you and have you the way I’ve wanted to for years,” he breathes, hair dripping forward over his shoulders to fall around Leo’s face. “So forgive me, Your Majesty, if I’m fixating on being _hungry._ ”

 

Leo’s deliberate movement stills, eyes wide as his body quivers instead of moving, all of his attention on those deceptively sweet eyes threatening to engulf his whole world, his entire soul. _I should let him,_ his soul breathes, and for a moment, a heartbeat, that sounds right, that sounds like the only thing he wants.

 

_What about Izumi?_

 

Leo’s lip wobbles, and he turns his face away. “It’s hard to be in love with two people,” he says, apropos of nothing that’s been said aloud, eyes stinging.

 

Eichi frowns, but doesn’t say anything to that. “It seems to be a common human problem,” he finally, grumpily says, releasing Leo with an irritated little exhale. “Sorry. I got carried away. You smell more like Rei when you start crying, so please don’t.”

 

Leo lets out a choked, wet little laugh, thunking his forehead against Eichi’s shoulder. “That’s such a stupid thing to say. You’re stupid,” he whispers, and pulls the blanket all the way over his head.

 

“How am I stupid? It’s a fact,” Eichi mutters, poking at Leo’s cheek through the blanket for a moment before slithering underneath it as well. “I’m not here to…take you from him,” he eventually, quietly says. “If that’s what you’re afraid of. It’s not like I can take you anywhere right now if I tried, but that wasn’t my intention in the first place.”

 

“I love him.” Leo’s voice is muffled by Eichi’s skin, eyes squeezed tightly shut even in the darkness. “I do. And it’s in, it’s in such a human way, you know? Where I like him, and I learned more about him, and he does awful things and I understand them and want to tell everyone why they should forgive him and be _grateful_ they even get to see him, where I want to rip out my heart and give it to him because I think he’ll keep it safer than I ever could. And it--I know what you just said, but it’s a betrayal of some kind, isn’t it? When I look at you and all thoughts of him just…go away?”

 

Eichi’s fingers slide back through Leo’s hair again, twisting and curling it about his fingers as if expecting it to suddenly be longer, somehow. “I don’t think you can help that,” he says after a moment. “Even with our bond the way it is…that’s part of how it works. Sorry. I think it’s annoying, too.”

 

Leo swallows, and in a sudden flash of insight, feels a stab of emotional pain. “There’s someone else for you, too,” he says softly. “Or there was.”

 

“It’s not the same,” Eichi says ruefully, tugging absently on Leo’s hair. “And it’s ruined, besides. He’s one of those people where if my eyes wander once…well. That’s the end. Your fault entirely.”

 

“Eh? I did that?” Leo huffs out a breath, then places a slow, soft kiss of apology to Eichi’s jawline. “No one treats me right after you died,” he says abruptly, switching topics at whiplash speed. “Even when I tell them how to do it. You gave me all these kinks and then you just _died_ and no one does it right.”

 

“Ah, really? I wouldn’t know, I just did what I wanted and you liked it.”

 

Leo huffs, no longer feeling apologetic in the slightest. “Well, it’s true. No one else does it right. Any of what we…”

 

“You’re the one still holding out on me,” Eichi says with a flippant sigh, rolling away dramatically. “No collar until I close the gates, or whatever. Fine, sounds cruel and unusual, but fine. You’re really going to have to feed me if you want that, I’m serious.”

 

“Is there a way?” Leo asks, more curious than anything. “For you to do the nibble on me without hurting me? I really want that, you know. I don’t like it when you’re starving.”

 

“…Ask Rei, I don’t know,” Eichi grumpily admits. “Contrary to whatever he believes, I’m _not_ trying to kill you. I just want a taste. Or from a Nightcloak—even a _Nooncloak,_ I can make it work. Humans or human wizards, that’s the ticket.”

 

“Maybe…if a sheepskin just as a tiny hole in it, it won’t _rip_ or anything…right? Hmm, I’ll ask him.” Leo grins. “Althooooough, you are being _awfully_ sweet right now. I don’t hate this.”

 

Eichi glowers. “I’ll cough up blood directly into your mouth next time,” he threatens. “Or maybe I’ll take a bite out of your half-breed. I hear he’s a wizard, is he any good? Tell me, I’m hungry.”

 

Leo growls, and lunges up, his own sharp teeth snapping shut on Eichi’s neck, a hard, warning bite more bestial than royal. “Don’t touch him,” he warns, fingers digging into Eichi’s chest. “He’s _mine_.”

 

Eichi snorts out a laugh, prying Leo off easily, rolling him, and pinning his wrists down with one hand. “Was that supposed to hurt?” he asks, amused. “That’s very cute. He must be tasty if my descendant is chewing on him. It’s interesting that both you and your half-breed have such a taste for my kind…”

 

Leo’s breath hitches, and he feels his eyes start to glaze, the delicious, impending doom scent of Eichi washing over him as his skin tingles and tightens all over. He tests Eichi’s grip, more for fun than anything, and finds himself blurting, “Just once, I’d like to really fight you. And make you _make_ me.” He isn’t sure what dark place in him spat those words out, but whispering them makes him hard, and his nipples ache a little, as if expecting to be teased mercilessly.

 

Eichi’s eyes lid, his grip tightening in response to Leo’s vague struggling. “That really makes you hot and bothered, doesn’t it,” he muses, reaching a hand down to pluck at one of Leo’s nipples, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. “Some king you are, Your Majesty, wanting to be taken like the spoils of war.”

 

It’s a strangled whimper that makes its way out of Leo’s mouth at that, and he twists, one or two nearly-real struggles enough to show him that Eichi really _has him_ , has him pinned down as securely as a real captive, and he gulps as his chest aches, his cock swells. “You’ve fought wars,” he breathes, back arching as he shoves against that cruel, perfect hand. “If you found me on the battlefield…if I surrendered to you…would you dishonor me like that?”

 

“In front of your gods and everybody,” Eichi mutters, shoving Leo’s legs apart with his other hand before climbing between them, knees set between his thighs to keep them spread. “You’re the worst. I was _going_ to tease you and leave you like this until you fed me, but this is what I like, too, you know.”

 

Leo smirks, though mentally he breathes a sigh of relief. The idea of Eichi teasing him and _not fucking him_ is enough to make him quite sure he’d be insane within ten minutes, and rather thinks he’d agree to anything Eichi wanted.

 

This…this is better.

 

“On the battlefield?” he asks, because talking about this stupid fantasy is definitely better than thinking about Eichi _denying_ him. “Or in your tent? In—in front of your men? Or mine?”

 

“On the battlefield, I think,” Eichi says, almost conversationally, as he reaches down between them, and sinks a pair of fingers inside with little warning. “In front of your men. Might as well let them see what their whore king is really made for, hmm? Ah, good, you’re still nice and wet in here, it’s almost like you’re a woman.”

 

Leo’s mind twists into a too-vivid daydream, _showing_ him that battlefield, with the sun sunk low in the sky, the smirking soldiers around him easily twisting into the faces of his old counselors, the ones who had always whispered behind his back, the ones that had thought him so weak, so pathetic, so willing to do as he was told.

 

And the angel above him in full battle armor—he’s easy to imagine, too, so much that Leo gasps, “Is—is this magic? What you’re doing to me?”

 

“Mm, maybe? Or maybe it’s already just a few holes poked in that sheepskin, hmm?” Eichi breathes, leaning up to suck on the side of Leo’s neck, then nuzzling up into his hair before inhaling deeply. His hand withdraws, only to palm his own cock, easing it to Leo’s hole. “You’re welcome to scream as much as you like, Your Majesty,” he murmurs, his voice an eager, throaty rumble as he shoves inside, his first, long thrust enough to sheath himself fully.

 

The sudden stretch of it, even so soon after the last time, makes Leo’s vision go dark at the edges. He hiccups for breath, spasming hard, squeezing down on that thick, invasive length as he lets out a pathetic whine. Every part of his body burns, but nowhere so much as where they’re connected and _in_ , and for a mad moment, Leo is certain that Eichi is fucking more than seed into his body. “N-never submit,” he slurs, drunk on cock, mouth slack, eyes eager at the sudden, vicious, slippery motion, feeling as if all of his internal organs are rearranging to make room. “Not…not to you…”

 

Eichi’s fingers squeeze tightly around Leo’s wrists, finger-shaped bruises sure to linger there later from how hard he presses them down into the bed, bracing there as he bends over Leo, panting into his hair as he ruts in. The motion is far less careful, far more an over-eager rutting for his own pleasure, and his cock throbs inside, dripping when he grinds in. “You say that,” he breathes, a laugh on the edge of his voice as he palms a hand down to Leo’s cock. “But you’re like this. I think you _like_ keeping my cock warm.”

 

Maybe it’s Eichi. Maybe it’s magic. Maybe Leo has always had a hyperactive imagination and has never been entirely mentally stable in any case, but he swears he can _feel_ the rough dirt underneath him, feel the conqueror’s cool armor against his skin, hear the laughter of faceless men as his cock twitches and drips. For the moment, it’s more real than anything else he’s been feeling, and the chill of winter twilight seeps into his bones, telling him that night has come, and now, he belongs to the monsters. He screams with every thrust, cock spilling over his stomach, thighs burning as he’s stretched open. There’s nothing he could say, even if he wanted to, and he does. All he can do is hold on, turning his face away from where he swears they’re watching him, letting his body convulse mindlessly in pleasure as Eichi forces it out of him.

 

At some point, Eichi releases his hold on Leo’s wrists, because it’s very, very apparent there’s no reason for him to fight anymore.

 

His hands instead close around his waist, dragging him down onto his cock, thrusting hard through every single squirm and spasm. His mouth fastens to the curve of his shoulder, teeth biting down, holding tight as he fucks in, a low, possessive growl lost in the back of his throat. He feels Leo’s chest heave, his thighs tremble and twitch, and Eichi rocks back, hauls him up into his lap, down onto his cock, with only a few hard thrusts following before he spills with a ragged, panting gasp, filling Leo again so much that he can feel the sticky, slick drip of it onto his own thighs.

 

Eichi feels something slick underneath his fingers, too, and dazedly glances down—oops. “Ah…I got carried away,” he mutters apologetically, the smear of blood from scratches underneath too-long nails making him breathe in deep to control himself. The talons in question disappear with a little _click_ , and he mouths a warm, wet kiss to the side of Leo’s neck, inhaling, exhaling slowly as he shivers.

 

Leo’s breath comes in weak, quick little gasps and pants, his heart thundering so hard it nearly sounds like a single, steady tone. He clutches at Eichi, feeling the daydream slip away, retreating behind the reality of the palace guest quarters, the sting of pain on his skin stinging enough to try to anchor him to this reality. He feels shaken, emptied out like the husk of a melon once it’s been scooped. “That…was…a lot…” he whispers, voice tremulous, body still shaking. “More…than I expected. Was that…?”

 

“What should’ve happened during the last war? I think so,” Eichi answers with a breathless laugh, shifting his grip down to Leo’s hips instead, where he lifts him off of his cock with surprising care. “I want to eat you _so_ badly,” he groans, slumping forward and crushing Leo down onto the bed in the process. “Just a taste, just a little taste…”

 

Leo lets out a sound that can only be described as “Yeep!” as he’s moved, eyes wide and eager. “Can you? Even like this?”

 

“No,” comes Eichi’s dejected, muffled response from where his face is stuffed directly into the bed next to Leo’s head. “You’re perfectly wrapped up still. No matter how much I fuck you, it stays the same.”

 

“Wish I could say the same for my arse,” Leo says, grinning. “I won’t be able to ride for a week.”

 

“Good. Stay here. Let me keep trying to eat you until I die.”

 

“I hope you’re never successful. And you have to keep trying. Forever.”

 

“You want me dead. Ahh, good, I think dying like this would be nice.”

 

“Mm. Me too, maybe.”

 


	22. Chapter 22

 

There aren’t many options that remain, and the realization of this makes Rei…tired.

 

More so than usual, to be precise—the idea of spending any amount of time _humoring_ the previous Emperor sets his teeth into a grind. _This shouldn’t have happened in the first place, this is your fault,_ a little voice in the back of his mind reminds him all the same, and realizing that, begrudgingly, makes him come to terms a bit more quickly with the only options he has left.

 

 _If Eichi is fed, he might be useful. But how to feed him?_ The idea of doing it himself makes his stomach turn. Hiyori is only a temporary fix. Leo…not even close to a fix at all, and there might be other Nightcloak options looming in the distance, but that, too, is dubious at best.

 

And so, with few options remaining, and the one option that _might_ be feasible also meaning that Shu is less likely to kill himself closing every Sorrow’s Gate, Rei hatches a plan.

 

The palace is in all sorts of a nervous flutter, courtesy of all the strange guests coming through (many of which, Rei does enjoy pointing out, are _war criminals_ ), and so even for him, finding his way to the King’s private study is difficult. The lack of noise inside gives credence to Eichi not being there; the disgusting creature feels like nothing on a good day, so it’s always questionable, but Rei hauls himself up onto Leo’s balcony, throws open a window, and drapes half-way into the room with a grunt of effort. “Hello, Your Majesty,” he says, chin propped in one hand, not bothering to pull himself entirely into the room. The sun isn’t down yet. “Your guards are being obnoxious and your…well, I know he’s not your secretary, but that stuffy redheaded noble is being awfully protective. So I’ve snuck in with a proposal for you.”

 

Leo, already alert and sitting at his desk, looks up with a start, long after Rei starts speaking. “What?” he asks, eyes a little wild. “I wasn’t—what? I’m already married.”

 

“Not a marriage proposal. And careful about how quickly you announce that.”

 

Rei heaves himself up and through the window the rest of the way, dusting himself off as he straightens. He pauses to look Leo up and down, and frowns, taking a step closer. “Majesty, you look a bit…frazzled, for lack of a better word,” he gently says. “Perhaps I shouldn’t bring up this plan after all…do you need me to go kill him?”

 

“I didn’t sleep much,” Leo mutters, shoving the hair back from his face. “It’s fine, I’m fine, I was just concentrating when you interrupted. Explain yourself, who are you getting married to?”

 

“You’re fixated on that bit. I _mean_ , I have a plan.” Rei watches him a moment longer before sighing. The exhale seems to spring the criss-crossing lines of magic around Leo to life, and Rei reaches out as he steps around Leo’s desk, clinically running his fingers over them, obviously being thorough in his examination for anything _wrong_. “My apologies for the rudeness, but I’m sure you understand my concerns by now,” he lightly says. “Did he try to feed? Ah, yes, there are some…well, I guess the best way to describe them are toothmarks, right here…”

 

“He said he couldn’t get at any of the good stuff,” Leo says, unconcerned, and holds out his arms, submitting to inspection with good grace. “Your sheepskin worked, it drove him crazy. Mm, so what’s your plan?”

 

Rei tries not to look satisfied about that, and fails. Still, he keeps checking, making _sure_ , because Leo isn’t exactly the most reliable source in this particular issue. “Do you still fancy keeping him as a pet?”

 

“Like a tame tiger,” Leo says with a smile. “I doubt he’ll ever be fully domesticated, but I think he can be useful. He’s willing to go close the Sorrow’s Gate, at least, because he thinks it’ll make me happy. Or because he cares about the country, it’s kind of unclear.”

 

“There certainly is a thin line with that, isn’t there?” Rei murmurs, plucking at a last strand of magic before being satisfied with what he sees, and letting it fade out of view—and out of mind—once more. He rocks back onto his heels, folding his arms. “If you want to keep him, then he should be put to work. He’s obviously too weak to be useful right now, but…there are options. In the North, where the Sorrow’s Gate is—but if you want him fully functional before then, I recommend a little detour into the West first. With the right priming, I imagine there’s a Nightcloak there that wouldn’t mind him taking a bite if it meant saving the country.”

 

Much to his own surprise, Leo finds himself scowling. “No. I…what’s a moral argument that I can pretend is mine? Ah…yeah, it’s not right to feed a Nightcloak to a monster.” He folds his arms over his chest, tucking his legs up. “I don’t want him to feed on Wataru.”

 

“It’s not sex-based, the way Archdemons feed,” Rei mildly points out, crouching down next to Leo’s chair. “Leo, you’re cutting off a great number of options. I understand being jealous, but not only is he going to be useless, but you’re likely going to kill him if you don’t let him nibble on _someone_ powerful. Plus, Shu is absolutely not an option, and neither am I, by extension. I’m aware this was unclear, but I’m also suggesting you go with him. He won’t behave the same if you aren’t there, and it’s likely he’ll go rogue, so if you want Eichi to do something—accompany him to the West and to the North, let him eat, and let him fix this mess.”

 

“Can’t he just eat Hiyori?” Leo knows he’s whining, and doesn’t bother to stop. “What is it based on? I thought it was sex. I’m pretty sure everyone told me it was!”

 

“Hiyori’s an Archdemon, too, so there’s a finite limit.” Rei’s expression turns wry. “It’s sex when it’s with _me,_ because that’s much more efficient and we both benefit. Are you that worried that he’ll hop back into Wataru’s big, manly arms? Ah, you’re sounding a bit like Keito…”

 

Leo’s teeth bare in a snarl. “He started a giant conspiracy and banned every wizard from having sex just so they could be together for decades,” he growls. “But that’s not why. It’s…” He swallows, and looks away. “It’s dumb.”

 

“He did indeed do that, and I find it deplorable as well, for obvious reasons,” Rei wearily says, rocking back onto his heels. “You aren’t stupid, so I doubt whatever you’re going to say is. Go on.”

 

“It sucks,” Leo says simply, and curls his hands around his legs, drawing them close. “To be in love with someone and then find a bond. You feel like you’re betraying them with every breath. You’re still in love, but…it doesn’t matter. I hate it. He’ll hate it too.”

 

“Mm. I know.” Rei leans, setting his hands onto Leo’s knees, giving them a gentle squeeze. “I couldn’t see the man I married for years and years when my bond became active, because even being _around_ other people was too much—let alone touching them. No one wins in these kinds of situations, but we have to make the best of it. Like an arranged married, more or less, but so much _more_ intrusive.”

 

Leo huffs out a breath, then leans forward, thunking his forehead against Rei’s hand. “You two are cute, by the way,” he says. “Sorry. That must not make it any easier to hear. But you are. He’s…real good. Did you leave him back in High Harbor?”

 

“You’re not hurting my feelings, don’t worry,” Rei says, amused, and lifts a hand to pet Leo’s hair. “I left them both back in High Harbor. I know, I’m the worst, imposing my mate upon my husband, but surprisingly, they get along quite well. Shu is fascinated with paladins, and Kaoru has a very gentle touch that goes over well. But I digress—bonds aren’t exactly convenient for anyone, love. You’re going to have to let him step out a bit if you aren’t feeding him. And you _should_ , you can’t survive being his sole food source, anyway.”

 

Leo looks up through his lashes, searching Rei’s face as if for an answer. Then, finally, he sighs. “Fine. But you get to tell Natsume.”

 

Rei beams. “If by _tell_ , you mean distract by flirting with him for an hour while Eichi has a snack?”

 

“I mean do anything that makes him not blow up my palace, capital city, or pet archdemon, actually!”

 

“Oh, he won’t do that! Natsume’s a sweetheart, he’s just a little…” Rei flutters a hand as he straightens up to his feet. “Well, he’s young. I’ll handle it, don’t worry. I could handle him better if Wataru didn’t have him all bundled up, but I’ll make do.”

 

“Yeah.” Leo reaches out a hand, catching Rei’s wrist. “Tell me it’s a bad idea,” he says softly, staring down at his knees. “To let him free. Remind me why.”

 

“Everything you’ve worked for—everything you’ve carefully cultivated, and slaved over, for years now—all of that will be gone,” Rei quietly says, reversing his grip to give Leo’s hand a squeeze. “Being eaten will be the least of your worries. Your kingdom, your husband, your unborn child—you won’t even know that it will be gone, because he’ll have consumed you so completely.”

 

“But…but he might help the realm.” Leo’s eyes are huge, shining as he looks up. “Right? We weren’t attacked for so many years…sometimes I feel like the only thing holding the country together right now is me, and that’s _terrifying_ , because I don’t think I’m very good at it?”

 

“The only way he can help this realm is if _you_ keep him on a leash. I’m the only other person that could, and he hates me, lest we forget, so what good could possibly come from that?” Rei sighs, running his thumb over Leo’s knuckles. “You’re a very good king. Let’s be frank, while we’re at it—if you weren’t, do you really think I’d let you keep sitting on the throne?”

 

“Watch it.” That puts a little of the backbone back in Leo’s tone, and he draws back his hand, though his glare isn’t precisely frightening. “That’s dangerously close to treason.”

 

“It’s supposed to be.” Rei smiles, holding up his hands in surrender. “And it’s how you know I’m not trying to lead you towards a path of your own destruction.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Leo says with a sigh. “Like in a play, you always know they’re innocent if they say, “I didn’t kill him! But you know what? I wish I HAD!””

 

“…Is that how you know? And here I thought you’d know because I’m offering you a chance to go on a cross-country adventure with your new pet while simultaneously saving said country.”

 

“And removing me from my seat of power at a delicate time, as well as taking me away from the person sworn to protect me in a completely apolitical way,” Leo says mildly. “I need to think about it.”

 

Rei shrugs. “He’s not going to go do it if I have to chaperone him alone,” he bluntly says. “And honestly, I won’t, because I don’t like him. You have until tonight to tell me yes or no. Either way, I’m heading North in the morning, because _I_ need to get back to the Shadowlands. That should be your first clue, Majesty, as to why I don’t want you off this throne. I have my own to deal with.” 

 

Leo gives him a sharp look, then settles back. “I’ll come. Mostly I want to see Izumi again, I hope he’s _huge_. How many horses should we bring? You, me, Madara, Eichi, Hiyori, anyone else?”

 

“Izumi is in High Harbor, Majesty, so I doubt we’ll run into him.” Rei _hopes_ they won’t, at any rate. That’s a recipe for disaster. “Madara does not need to come, but Hiyori will be a good road snack.”

 

“Two responses. One, I promised I’d let him watch me. Two, I think it’s funny. And three, importantly? _You_ try leaving him behind, he’s real fast and he can fly.”

 

Rei exhales a long, aggravated breath. “That was three responses, and also, I left him behind just fine yesterday. He can come _only_ if he’s off doing dragon things most of the time. I can only handle so much of him, and I can’t handle him and Eichi squabbling at _all_. I know when to shut up. Eichi doesn’t. Madara doesn’t.”

 

“Oh. See, I like that. How else am I going to get differing viewpoints?”

 

“By listening to me, right now. If you want both a dragon and an archdemon, I’m done here.”

 

Leo frowns. “You said the country needs this. And not for nothing, I _need_ to be able to get back to the Capital in a hurry if there’s an emergency, or if I have to show up somewhere to avoid a catastrophe. Believe me, I wish I was still a prince and could go around in disguise for a few weeks…” He trails off, wistful.

 

“Teleportation exists. Also, I didn’t say you had to kick Madara out entirely; I just don’t need him breathing down my neck the entire time. He’s a bossy know-it-all and he _will_ keep trying to kill Eichi.” Rei leans closer, planting his hands onto the arms of Leo’s chair. “Put your secretary in charge. Don’t you want to be the first king that’s been in the North in centuries? You’ll make Izumi _so_ happy.”

 

“You’re trying to emotionally manipulate me,” Leo accuses lowly. “I mean, it’s working, it’s totally working, but you are, and I just want you to know that I see it. He’ll come, and I’ll come, and Tsukasa will be fine. It’s good practice for him, I guess.”

 

“Put the dragon on sky duty, I’m actually begging you.”

 

Leo shrugs. “I’m sure he’ll want to be up there most of the time. And if he’s flying forward and back, we’ll know if there’s any ambush or anything. You should be nice to him, he likes you.”

 

“I know he likes me. I know _._ And my magic likes him, which is why I also find him very difficult to work with.”

 

“Eh? Your _magic_ likes him?”

 

“Yes. It does. Like—pheromones are probably the easiest comparison. You know how sometimes, you just really like a person’s natural scent, or find yourself drawn to them? It’s the same in magic. Some magics mesh very easily, or are attracted to one another naturally. It’s my father’s fault,” Rei moodily says, leaning back. “Flighty Greenbred blood. Dragon fuckers, all of them.”

 

“Huh.” That’s interesting, and Leo absorbs it slowly, thinking. “I thought…I’ve only heard people talk about magic like it’s a tool, or a weapon—you know, some people’s are different, like a knife is different from a crossbow. But you’re making it sound more like a trained animal that has opinions.”

 

“It’s different for every magic user,” Rei says with a shrug. “But mine, in particular, definitely has opinions. It just plain won’t work around some people, whereas with others, it works _too_ hard. Madara is the latter. It’s troublesome, and not for nothing, if _I’m_ acting like a cat in heat, _your_ pet is going to be in a fouler mood than usual. I’d rather not rile him up if I can help it.”

 

“Wait. Who’s my pet?” Leo demands.

 

“Eichi. What, did you not stick a collar on _him_ yet?”

 

“No, dumbass, I’m the one that—ah, haha, I mean, collars are for animals!”

 

“Mmm. Make sure it’s leather, or you’ll have some nasty marks left behind.”

 

Leo scowls. “Any other advice? Leash brands?”

 

“I can ask Shu, actually; he’d know the best merchant for such things far better than I.” Rei pauses, and adds, “Because he’s a tailor, not because he—or we—never mind.”

 

Leo sighs. “We’re all freaks here. How thick is his? Or do you wear it?”

 

“I _wish_ ,” Rei resignedly says, giving up on propriety and hopping up onto the edge of Leo’s desk, long legs dangling all the way to the floor. “Either way would be fine, I’ll have you know, but that sort of game is for people that can think straight around their mate—lover—whatever.”

 

“Is it?” Leo asks, baffled. “I don’t understand, I can’t think around him at _all_. And we like it fine.”

 

“You can obviously think far enough ahead to want a collar on,” Rei grumpily says. “But you’re human, and not a wizard, so bonds will always be different for you.”

 

Leo’s eyes widen, and he leans forward, resting his elbows on Rei’s thighs. “Seriously? It’s even _worse_ for you? What…what could that possibly be like?”

 

“For one, we’re telepathic. Try having someone still be able to talk you off when they’ve got your cock in their mouth.” Actually, just thinking about that makes him shiver. _Not right now, not when you_ need _to keep him gently blocked out for his own good._ “My kind—well, my mother’s side of the family— _takes_ mates. It’s less about romance at that point, and more of a biological compulsion. I actually find it incredibly distasteful and I did a very good job of ignoring it for the majority of my life until _Shu_ , but…it’s…”

 

“You keep throwing new terms at me and not explaining,” Leo says, but it’s more a request for information than a complaint. “Is a mate like a wife? I only know as much about the Shadowlands as my tutors taught me, and it was mostly how to avoid pissing off demons in trade negotiations.”

 

“I’m actually curious about what they told you, considering no one has even remotely tried to contact the Shadowlands for negotiations in years,” Rei says, amused. “I suppose a mate is like a wife, in an archaic sense of the word. It’s less about marriage, more about possession. You own them. They don’t have to like it, but they do accept it. Ah, I don’t want to give you the wrong idea, that’s not how I feel about Shu…but that is the concept that most demons embrace. And with a bond, it’s so much…worse?” He pauses, thinking, and winces. “I’m grasping for straws, my apologies, and I don’t know what it feels like to be on the submissive end of a _bond_ , but I _do_ know what it feels like to be so mad with lust that if you don’t have at least three or four dicks near and in you, you feel like you might die. That—but reversed, with your bond compelling you to fuck your mate until neither of you can move, _plus_ some stupid, animalistic biological need to remind them that they’re yours, so it goes on far longer than necessary. And my magic only reacts more and more, so it _keeps_ going…”

 

“That’s…” Leo ponders that for a moment, and his eyes glaze briefly when he thinks of Eichi and the phrase _if you don’t have at least three or four dicks near you and in you_ —yes, maybe he should…pay Eichi another visit, before they go. His mouth feels dry, and he swallows, trying to marshal his thoughts properly, until he sticks on one particular phrase. “Hang on. The submissive end of a bond? Isn’t it just…the same for everyone? Tying you together?”

 

“If it was, that would be a little stressful. Ah—let me explain, magic is a system that has to be balanced. Either it cancels each other out—my magic and Eichi’s magic, for example, or to put it more simply, think about fire and water— _or_ it has to be strongly compatible, which is what you see in cases of two bonded wizards, for various reasons. Very rarely do you find something so unique with nothing to directly oppose it or complement it, and we call that aberrant magic. Mika,” Rei supplies as an example. “Or Natsume’s gift for prophecy. Anyway—with bonds, there always has to be a submissive end to match the dominant end, or they would have never fit together properly in the first place to form that bond…and that’s about the extent of my knowledge on that, actually. Ask Eichi, he did so much more research on this than I ever could stand to. It stresses me out, thinking that some people _have_ to match together perfectly in life.”

 

Leo lets that sink in, slowly, as his eyes widen a little more with every word. It makes sense, he supposes, but even more importantly, it _feels_ kind of true, like realizing that there were different shoes for his left and right feet, and he’d been wearing them wrong before. “I sort of understand,” he says slowly, red brows furrowed. “And I’ll ask him. I’m just…what does it _mean_ , for one person to be submissive and another be dominant? It can’t just be the sex thing, that would be dumb. I mean. It would, right? _Right?_ ”

 

“Oh, it absolutely would be stupid, but my shitty animal brain thinks that would be all sorts of kinky,” Rei tiredly says, swinging his feet a bit. “I’m fairly certain it has to do with the amount of magic weighted down onto each side of the bond, and while Shu can kick my ass in this realm, I can certainly lug around quite a bit more of a magical weight. But I don’t know, ask Eichi. I’ll fully admit this isn’t my area of specialty and I don’t want it to be.”

 

“Yeah, your explanation was mostly just confusing,” Leo admits freely. “Okay, you can go. We’re leaving in the morning? I’m gonna go see Tsukasa and give him the good news, he gets to be king again.”

 

“You’re so rude,” Rei says without any annoyance whatsoever, and slithers off of Leo’s desk. “Even if you can’t guarantee it, make sure to let him know Eichi isn’t going up North to chew on the Himemiya heir.”

 

“Huh? Oh. You think I’m going to _talk_ to him. Nah, I’m probably just going to show up, tell him he’s king again, and run off laughing,” Leo says bluntly. “It’s funnier that way.”

 

“Maybe don’t in this case.”

 

“Why not? I’ve done it before.”

 

“Because Eichi is a threat to most things that many people hold dear?”

 

Leo shrugs. “Tsukasa always seemed to like him just fine. Lots of people did, honestly.”

 

“I’ll be blunt. Eichi was fucking—and feeding on—the cute little Himemiya heir that is stationed in the North right now. They’re very, very close. I’m sure Tsukasa liked him just fine, Eichi was always close with the Suou family as well, but this is a slightly different situation, now that Tsukasa and Tori are involved.” Rei pauses. “Or so I’ve heard. What do I know, maybe they aren’t involved at all…”

 

“They aren’t,” Leo says firmly. “Not in any way. Because if they were, Tsukasa would be dishonoring my little sister. And he’s not, because then I would have to duel him. You understand.”

 

“Mmhm. I understand. Then maybe, instead of running up to him and announcing your departure, you leave him a nice note in his chambers, and don’t give him time to question any of this or become concerned before you leave. Then you can properly sneak away without a fuss.”

 

Leo’s eyes light up. “That,” he declares, “is why you are not just an important asset, but also a friend to the realm.”

 

“High compliments from you, Your Majesty. At any rate,” Rei breezily says, sidling around the desk. “Make sure you pack _warmly._ The North isn’t kind, and the West isn’t much better.”

 

“Um, that’s why I’m bringing at least three enormous men who will snuggle me at any time, obviously.”

 

“I will only snuggle _you_.”

 

“I think Mama and Eichi have the same requirements! I will be warm, you see!”

 

“Uh huh. Please pack warm clothes, you brat. I’m not giving up my Nightcloak.”

 

Leo’s lip twitches. “But they look comfy. Maybe Shu will make me one…”

 

“Ask Eichi for his,” Rei dryly says, opting to leave through the door, not the window, this time around. “Shu made that one, too.”

 

Leo immediately scribes out a note for Tsukasa, tucks it into an envelope, and tucks it into his desk for later. He spends the next hour frantically making his way through his paperwork, finishing in record time before dashing out the door, slipping down the hallways silently until he reaches the room where he’d stashed Eichi. Then, trying to look nonchalant, he knocks, shoving his hands into his pockets.

 

It’s Eichi that answers the door, albeit after a considerable pause. No matter how pale and wan he looks, wrapped up in nothing but a sheet he’s dragged from the bed, he still brightens at the sight of Leo, and obviously has to stop himself from grabbing at him. “To what do I owe this visit, Your Majesty? Huh. You smell like spilled ink.” _And Rei_ , he grumpily thinks _,_ but that’s a given.

 

“Got magic questions,” Leo says, aiming for tough and casual, and then walks inside and simply jumps up, winding his arms around Eichi’s neck. “Also I want you to come North with me. _Also_ also Rei said something hot and I can’t stop thinking about you fucking me.”

 

Eichi catches him with a deft arm, hefting Leo up around the waist instead of letting him dangle as he nudges the door shut behind him. “One thing at a time, except less about Rei, because I’m already annoyed.”

 

Leo tries to remember what he was going to talk about, but the smell of Eichi is incredible, and he buries his face in Eichi’s neck, sniffing deeply as his hand drops down, going immediately for his prick. “Later,” he murmurs into the pale skin of that long neck. “Want cock now.”

 

It’s not like Eichi can refuse _that_. “I suppose if he made you this horny, I can’t complain,” Eichi mutters, a few swift strides taking Leo over to the bed before dumping him down onto it. “You can talk and be fucked at the same time, though,” he casually says as he crawls between Leo’s splayed legs, mouthing a kiss to his throat as he yanks at the fastenings of Leo’s breeches. “What did he say to make you so riled up?”

 

Leo wriggles in pleasure, kicking off his breeches as much as Eichi will let him. One of his hands comes shamelessly up between his legs, stroking his cock, teasing himself as he watches Eichi through slitted eyes. “He talked about mates being claimed in the Shadowlands, and how it feels to need a bunch of dicks in you at the same time so bad you can’t think of anything else. It made me think of you. And how empty I am.”

 

Eichi blinks a few times at that, then snorts out a laugh, grabbing for the bottle of oil he’d so neatly left on the bedside table. “Sounds like something a slut would say,” he says with a dismissive shrug, watching Leo toy with himself as he reaches down to his own cock, hand slick with oil as he strokes up the length of it. “No wonder you like him. You two think the same way about cock.”

 

Looking down at Eichi’s cock, thick and long and so familiar, makes Leo’s eyes go dark, and he can’t stop himself from licking his lips. He reaches down and pulls up one of his legs by the knee, exposing himself shamelessly, chest starting to rise and fall quickly. “Ah…you can’t say something like that when I’m still empty.” The words come out pleading, breathless.

 

“Mm? What? That you’re a slut?” Eichi would be a liar to say he didn’t love the ego boost that comes with how Leo _reacts_ to him. So help him, he can’t resist encouraging that. His thumb drags over the slick head of his own cock, making him shiver, and he eases it to Leo’s hole, adjusting his weight onto his knees to better sink his way inside. He slides an arm underneath Leo’s lower back, hoisting his hips up when he shoves forward, a breathless, hungry groan escaping from the back of his throat when the head of his cock sinks in, and the rest follows more easily, thick and _long_ as he grinds in. “You’re the one that came to my door begging for dick,” he pants against Leo’s neck. “You can’t be anything but a slut.”

 

Leo’s toes curl, and he lets out a breathless, aching sigh as Eichi sinks in where he belongs, filling his empty places, making him squirm happily under the onslaught. “S-so I’m a, a slut,” he pants, eyes rolling back into his head, clenching down on Eichi’s cock like he can suck it in. “Nnh, I’m mad you ever pull it out, you…you _know_ this is where it belongs, right? Don’t keep it from me…”

 

“ _You’re_ the one that keeps running away,” Eichi murmurs into Leo’s neck as his hands close around that lean waist, squeezing as he rocks forward slowly, taking his time to fuck Leo thoroughly when obviously, they aren’t in _any_ sort of a hurry for once. He sighs out a hot, wet breath into Leo’s hair, the clench of Leo’s body tight around him making him shiver down to his toes, and with each thrust, he barely pulls out, savoring how Leo pulls him in. “It fits in you so perfectly…and you’re getting better at taking it, good boy.”

 

A whimper escapes Leo’s lips, and his cock drips down onto his stomach, steadily with every mind-melting thrust of Eichi into his body. Eichi feels huge, not just in him but _over_ him, tall and broad and strong, unavoidable and inescapable, making Leo writhe on him like a worm on a hook. “Kind of…miss when it hurt,” he breathes, reaching up to grab at Eichi’s back. “But this feels…good. Feels like a lot of you. Don’t take it out ever, ever, I think I’ll _die_ —“

 

A breathless laugh escapes, and Eichi bites at the curve of Leo’s shoulder, his hands squeezing harder when he grinds in, harder this time, enough that he can heard and _feel_ the sticky slap of skin to skin. “I can make it hurt, if that’s what you want,” he mutters, dragging a hand up to one of Leo’s nipples to lightly pinch. “But isn’t this nice, too? You’re nice and full. You don’t have to beg, you just have to keep it warm.”

 

Why does that phrase go through him like an electrical current every time Eichi breathes it? Leo shivers hard, nails pricking at Eichi’s back, and he closes his eyes, letting his head thunk back against the bed. “I’ll be good,” he hears himself whisper, mouth gone slack with pleasure. “I’ll—I’ll be so good, doesn’t it feel good in me? Whenever you want, I’ll be here, it goes right there, in me…”

 

 _Feeling_ the surrender in Leo’s body when he slumps down into the bed makes Eichi’s breath hitch, and so help him—there’s nothing else _to_ do but enjoy him.

 

He kisses and sucks at that arched throat as he bends forward, shoving in deep, each hard, rhythmic grind of his hips keeping his cock in deep, stuffing Leo full, keeping it far inside, just like he’d so desperately wanted. Eichi feels his cock drip with every single thrust, as if Leo isn’t already slick enough inside from all the oil, and his fingers bite into Leo’s hips, holding him steady, holding him still for Eichi’s cock to fuck him however he likes.

 

Eichi’s chest heaves, a breathy grunt escaping his throat when he thrusts in, spilling himself inside, deep enough to make _sure_ none of it drips out, even after a few more lingering, _savoring_ grinds of his hips. “ _Good_ boy,” he purrs, nuzzling up into Leo’s hair, his breathing erratic as it washes over Leo’s skin.

 

Leo isn’t exactly sure when consciousness blurs into bliss, or when that gives way to shuddering, all-consuming ecstasy, but he thinks it has something to do with the way that Eichi’s cock strokes every part of his insides, fills him so full that he doesn’t know how to do anything besides lying still, _taking_ it.

 

It’s the first time he can remember feeling the urge to just _smile_ ecstatically during sex, so pleased with the way Eichi ruts into him that he stretches slowly, like the cat that’s got the cream, and trails a hand down over his belly, feeling it slick and sticky. “Don’t pull out. Ever. You live here now.”

 

“Sounds good,” Eichi sighs, slowly flopping down to sprawl atop Leo, warm and sticky and surprisingly comfortable for it. “If I’m too heavy, I’ll roll over and you can be on top. Mm, are you happy now?”

 

“Yes.” Leo smiles slyly up at Eichi, stretching like a cat, twitching around Eichi’s slick cock, buried in him so deep it feels like he’s cramping. Perfect. “I like being crushed, so stay there for now.”

 

“Good. Ahh, but don’t squirm, or I’ll start fucking you again,” Eichi grumbles, nuzzling at Leo’s ear before gently biting his earlobe. “Not that that’s a bad thing, but, mmmn…you wanted to talk. I forget about what.”

 

“Oh. Right.” Leo wiggles his toes, batting his lashes at Eichi’s bite. “Rei told me something about resonant bonds, but he admitted he doesn’t know nearly as much about them as you.” The ego stroke should offset the hated name. “Is it true there’s one submissive partner or whatever?”

 

The ego stroke _does_ help, but Eichi shifts deliberately all the same to shove his cock in a little bit deeper, just to make a point. “Mmhm. That’s a basic principle of magic, but it’s even more prevalent in resonant bonds. Do you want a thorough explanation, or just the sexy one?”

 

Leo squeaks a little, and drags a hand down his face. “Nnh. Is the sexy explanation easier to understand for a guy who really doesn’t know anything about magic?”

 

“Both are easy. I’ve been explaining magic to noblemen that know nothing for years.” Eichi drops an elbow down to the bed, propping his chin up into his hand. “Something I’ve noticed—Nightcloaks fundamentally can’t relate their magic to anything in the human world.It’s what makes them special…infuriating, and useless as teachers, but fascinatingly special.”

 

Leo nods slowly, leaning over to mouth over Eichi’s collarbone, almost absently. “I just thought they were all kind of crazy, but yeah. That makes sense. Mm, if you’re so good at explaining to clueless noblemen, do it to me.”

 

“All right. Think of resonant bonds less like a continuous string, and more like two halves of a whole. Each half has an end that needs to be matched to another. I find it’s easiest to think of it like one end needs to slide right inside the other to stay properly attached,” Eichi cheerfully says, idly dragging a thumb down Leo’s chest, and over a nipple. “But it’ll only work if both parts are suited for one another. Otherwise it’s like trying to put a square peg into a circular hole. Following so far?”

 

Leo’s breath hitches, his hole twitching when Eichi plays with him, even just that much. He nods, all of his attention now on Eichi’s hand, knowing full well that this man could do _anything_ to him, and he’d probably just get harder. “G-got it. Makes sense so far. But what does it mean to be one or the other? Is it about who you are? Or what you like? Is one _better_?”

 

“One half is always going to be longer, and carry more of the strain of the bond. ‘Why’ is a good question…I don’t know why it has to be that way. Why is the sky blue? That sort of question.” Eichi shrugs casually, pushing his own hair off of his shoulder in the process. “The same with what it means. Physically, it just means one side holds more of it. But as far as who you are, or what you like…mmmm. Research says there might be some correlation. Is one some kind of demon, or mixed breed? They’re likely the dominant half. If they’re both human, or at least mostly human, then it’s the stronger wizard that’s the dominant half. I believe it’s linked to old Shadowlands magic and instinct, but there aren’t that many bonds floating about actually, so it’s difficult to determine that through research.”

 

“Maybe it’s a survival mechanism,” Leo suggests. “One feeds on the other, emotionally, maybe physically, too. Maybe emotionally. It’s a division of labor, right? Aren’t humans the super tasty food of the world, for most demons? Maybe whoever’s the most human one is the receiver, and it doesn’t have nearly as much to do with demons.”

 

“Mmhm. Humans are delicious.” Eichi sighs a little sigh of longing at that. “I’m sure that has something to do with it, but I think there’s a lot of demon instinct wrapped up in there. Demons have a very strict hierarchy. Most resonant bonds exhibit this, or at least, attempt to, even if both parties are mostly human.”

 

“Does it…” Leo chews his bottom lip. “Does it _always_ correlate to sexual preference? That the, um, submissive partner? Always likes being in this position?”

 

“Weeell,” Eichi begins, amusement clear in his voice and in his expression, “you tell me. I don’t know anything about your half-breed’s preferences or the cute Dawncloak’s that he was bonded to. But I do know that half-breed was the dominant half of his bond, for one reason or another.”

 

Leo blinks, thinking that over, then says slowly, “I actually…have no idea. Izumi never talks about it. I don’t mean he never talks about Makoto, he does, way too much, but not like that.”

 

“Then ask him next time. For science.” Eichi idly trails a hand up to Leo’s neck, stroking right at the base of it. “I can’t believe I _finally_ found someone who thinks resonant bonds are sexy.”

 

“Mm, I always wanted one,” Leo confesses, eyes lidded as he tilts his head back, implicitly giving consent for whatever Eichi feels like doing to his neck. “Then again…mm, I have some preferences that go so well with it, you know?”

 

“You always wanted one? Even though it would’ve been illegal to fuck a wizard and have one? Adorable.” Eichi sighs, splaying his fingers over Leo’s throat. “I faked two of them, you know. It’s easier than you’d think, to convince a castle full of wizards.”

 

“Sounds dumb,” Leo murmurs, shivering a little at the way Eich’s hand roams over his skin. “Heh…why do you think it didn’t happen the first time we met? What if it had? I wonder what it would have been like…to grow up…knowing that someday…” His voice drops to a low, breathy whisper. “You’d own me.”

 

Eichi shivers, his toes curling as his fingers squeeze gently around Leo’s throat. “Careful,” he quietly says. “You said something about going North. I might eat you before then.”

 

It’s not enough pressure to affect Leo’s breathing, not yet, but he sucks in air anyway, a sharp intake of breath that makes him squirm on Eichi’s cock, tensing and squeezing down involuntarily. “If you do…you can’t enjoy me anymore,” he points out. “So I’m not too worried.”

 

“So behave yourself,” Eichi mutters, giving Leo’s throat another, light squeeze before releasing him and forcing himself to sit up with a full-body shudder. “I can’t believe I’m having to be the responsible one.”

 

Leo huffs, and brings up a hand to his own throat, tracing the path Eichi’s hands had taken. “What do you mean, responsible?” he asks, vaguely miffed. “All you have to do is not kill me. You like me. That should be easy.”

 

“I want to tear through the magic wrapped around you until I get to _you_ , and then probably chew on your soul or something. If you were a demon, you’d think that was kinky.”

 

“Eh, if you say so?” Leo props himself up on one elbow. “Have you done it to someone before? What’s it like?”

 

“Delicious? Ah, hold on, I’m pulling out, you’re just making me horny every time you move,” Eichi grumbles, shifting to do just that with a little hiss of breath. He flops to the side, pushing his hair back and out of his face. “It’s very intimate. Like, hmm, almost like sex. Maybe like having your whole hand inside someone, something like that.”

 

“You can put your whole hand in me,” Leo says without missing a beat, fluttering his eyelashes up at Eichi. “I’ve never had that done before, but…but you’d kill yourself if you killed me, right? Is it really that dangerous?”

 

“Considering you’re the only thing tying me to this realm…yes, I’d die, in so many words,” Eichi says, reaching down to twirl a strand of Leo’s hair around a finger. “And I’d like to prevent that, which is why I’m _not_ letting you lead me down a bath of inevitable consumption. It doesn’t make me any less hungry, but…needs must.” He hesitates. “Though I loathe to admit it—Rei’s right about one thing. I am still fairly useless, unless you just want me to talk about magic all day. What exactly do you think I’ll be able to _do_ to that gate, hmm?”

 

Leo shrugs, starting to come back to himself now that they’re not in such close physical proximity. “I don’t know. You’re resourceful, you’ll figure it out. What was your big plan for taking over the country without enough power to even close a Sorrow’s Gate, huh? I heard Shu closed one by himself in ten minutes. Is he that much better than you?” He _might_ be needling, just a bit, but that’s what Eichi gets for pulling out.

 

Eichi’s expression shifts to something darker. “Before I was cast back into the depths, I had enough power to take what was mine again,” he flatly says. “But in dragging myself out of it, all of that was lost. You can either promise me a meal, or expect nothing. I’m not refusing to help—I’m making clear what is possible, unless you want me to try anyway, and watch the entire realm collapse in the process.”

 

Leo shrugs a shoulder. “Rei has a plan to get you fed,” he says, shifting to get his legs under him. “We’re riding out in the morning. Mm, you’ll also get to see Tori again, if you want to. He’s kind of a gremlin, but to each his own.”

 

The moodiness on Eichi’s face fades immediately, and he sits up, looking all the world like a dog wagging its tail. “Really? Oh, I hope he’s doing well, he’s so cute. Oh no, he must be so big now…too much time has passed, I’ll die if he’s tall. He’s not tall, right? It wouldn’t suit him.”

 

“He’s not tall,” Leo assures him. “He’s mellowed out quite a bit, he’s actually pretty useful for the realm, haha! Who would have thought it would turn out like that?”

 

“He’s always been a good boy. It’s not my fault that no one else wanted to see that,” Eichi sniffs, flopping back down again with a long, exaggerated sigh. “Well, fine. If Rei has a plan for me to eat, and I get to see Tori, that should be fine…as long as his plan isn’t to sit me around a bunch of Dawncloaks and hope for the best, because that’s not enough to do _anything._ ”

 

“I think it involves Wataru.”

 

Eichi goes still, and makes a valiant attempt at not looking a mix of suspicious, terrified, and nervously excited. “Ah. Does it?”

 

Leo shrugs, looking away, and rolls until his legs dangle off the bed. “I told him to find another way. He said there wasn’t one.”

 

“If I want to feed on a Nightcloak’s amount of energy…I imagine not,” Eichi exhales, staring up at the ceiling for a long moment. “Ah. Hmm. Well, that’s some unexpected anxiety.”

 

“Yeah.” Leo grimaces. “I don’t need to be around when you two are…when you see each other.”

 

“…What do you think I’m going to do, exactly?” Eichi finally asks, sitting upright again, his head cocking to the side. “Don’t get me wrong—I’m terrified to see him. I…we…” He flutters a hand. “We certainly had a fake bond in the past. But I’m sure he’ll be quite cold to me. We parted on very troubled terms.”

 

“You’re in love with him, though,” Leo says, puzzled. “So I figured you’d want to be alone with him.”

 

Eichi blinks at him, slow and confused, and then it clicks, making him jump as if startled. “Oh! Oh. Oh, you think I want to bed him. Oh.”

 

Leo’s head cocks so far to the side his ear nearly touches his shoulder. “Huh? What?” Eichi’s words make so little sense that he shakes his head, and asks again. “What?”

 

“Ah…I’m not saying I _wouldn’t_. I’m just…I mean…” Eichi lamely attempts, shrugging helplessly. “I never… _we_ never. Being close magically was already so much, the idea of anything else was stressful…”

 

Leo stares, eyes wide and almost glassy with this revelation. “But. But everyone…everyone thought… _I_ thought…the way you acted…the way _he_ acted…”

 

“Wataru isn’t human either, you know,” Eichi defensively says, his cheeks actually starting to heat up from this interrogation. “Creatures like us—with a magical connection, that’s more than enough to be satisfying! Stop looking at me, close your mouth, I hope a fly dives in!”

 

“Everyone thinks you two were together!” Leo insists, nearly annoyed. “I’ve been mentally comparing myself to him for _years!_ You always talked about what it felt like to be with him!”

 

“Everyone has a dirty mind, then! Magically, I meant we were together _magically_. Why are you yelling at me! Shouldn’t you be happy?!”

 

Leo flaps a hand, uncertain and flustered. “Because I’ve been trying to work around everything to not hurt your feelings with you having to see him! Because I know how hard it is to be around the person you love and the person you’re bonded to, and I needn’t have bothered!”

 

“Humans are so stressful!” Eichi groans, throwing himself back down and yanking a pillow over his face. “You idiot,” comes his voice, thoroughly muffled. “Just because I enjoy someone else’s company doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy yours. Wataru is a special case, I’ll admit that, but it’s not…the way you’re thinking. I could never. I know I just said I would, but the more I think about it, the more stressful it becomes.”

 

“Wild,” Leo says slowly, shaking his head. “Utterly wild. I thought archdemons were just unrestrained sex fiends. I was trying to be nice, because of me and Izumi!” He grabs another pillow, and whacks Eichi’s face pillow with it. “Stupid!”

 

“Ow! Why are you hitting me, I never said you couldn’t fuck your prissy little half-breed!” Eichi whines, curling up into a fetal position. “Who told you archdemons were unrestrained sex fiends? It’s Rei you’re thinking of, Rei!”

 

“You said you had kids scattered all over the world or something!” Leo isn’t even sure why he’s yelling at this point, but now he’s flustered, and whacks Eichi again for good measure. “I felt bad because I know how much it sucks to be in love with someone but bonded to someone else, I didn’t want you to have to feel guilty like that!”

 

“Women are different! You can just fuck women and not care, that’s the _point_ of fucking women!” Eichi pulls another pillow over his head, trying to hide. “I wouldn’t feel guilty about fucking someone, I just feel guilty because I had to leave him behind in the first place, but—that’s different! Sex is irrelevant! That’s why _you’re_ so weird!”

 

“Sex isn’t irrelevant!” Leo insists, folding his arms over his chest. “It’s weird that you said that, we have it all the time.”

 

“Because it’s the closest thing regular humans have to magic!” Eichi growls, throwing off his pillows and sitting up huffily. “That’s when you start smelling like a tasty paladin, you know! Why are you still scolding me, you should be happy I don’t want to fuck everything that moves, right?” He huffs again, and then stifles a cough behind one hand, face flushed and eyes watering a little as he holds back the barrage of coughing that _wants_ to escape.

 

That doesn’t sound normal, and Leo frowns, turning to face Eichi, leaning forward in concern. “What’s wrong? You look awful, did I hit you wrong?”

 

Eichi shakes his head vehemently, waving Leo away with his other hand as he struggles to catch his breath. “D…don’t worry about it,” he wheezes. “This happens. This body…isn’t made all that well, actually.”

 

Leo growls low in his throat, and pokes at Eichi’s stomach. “What’s wrong with it? What did you make it out of? Can I help?”

 

Eichi growls back at him, and flops down, huddling up into a ball. “It’s weak and shitty because I wanted to be beautiful,” he rasps, attempting to be subtle about wiping the blood off of the palm of his hand and onto the bedsheet. “There’s a trade-off to not look like black ooze. And yes, you can help. Feed me.”

 

Leo scowls at him. “How can I help without dying?”

 

“…Feed me someone else,” Eichi moodily says, burying his face down into a pillow. “Ahh, I’m beat…when do we have to leave?”

 

“Morning.” Leo pauses. “Or possibly dawn. I don’t remember.”

 

“So not right now.” Eichi breathes a sigh of relief at that, even though that makes him want to cough again. “Ah…I suppose I should talk to Keito before we go…and apologize for not running off to the Sandlands to build our own empire after all…”

 

“You think he really believed you?” Leo fumbles for his leggings, toeing one foot into them. “I mean, it can’t be his first time being disappointed by you.”

 

“Wow, so blunt. But, mm, who knows what he believes. He kept all my old clothes, even my cloak! You can thank him for being a nice link back to this realm for me.”

 

“Wow. That’s kind of embarrassing, isn’t it? Did you ever have sex with him?”

 

“Nope.” Eichi sucks in a slow breath, and it seems to be easier this time. “You really think I’m a sex fiend, don’t you.”

 

Leo frowns, running his hands back through his hair. “No, I…I don’t know. I’m starting to think I’m kind of a slut. If I lived that long, I’d have had more people, I think.”

 

“I’ve had plenty of people. Just not recently.” Eichi pauses, looking over at him with raised eyebrows. “How many have you had, hmm? Izumi, me, Rei…”

 

“That’s it.” Leo shrugs. “But I’m lucky, all three of you are _really_ good at sex. Oh, wait, I fooled around with Rei’s paladin husband, too.”

 

“Then you’re not a slut. But…” Eichi’s eyes glitter, dark and hungry. “You could tell me about that last one. I’ve always wanted a taste.”

 

Leo grins. “He’s fun. Fun to roll around with. He taught me how to touch a woman, too, so that was…mm, educational.”

 

“Mmmm. Yes, I definitely want to eat him. Paladins and the fae breeds, those are the best.” Eichi sounds not only hungry, but wistful. “Magic has a taste, you know? And it varies wildly. For example, seafood’s no good. Wavebred, I mean.”

 

“Ehh, really? I love seafood. What do I taste like?” Leo hardly notices that he’s only wearing one leg of his leggings, wriggling around to sit on Eichi’s lap. “If you had to compare it to a human food.”

 

“Fresh. Like fresh fruit—you know that crispness when you bite into something you just plucked from a tree? That’s how good human tastes, especially if they have paladin blood in them, like the royal line does. Paladins themselves are delightfully citrus-y.” Eichi heaves a longing sigh, and wraps his arms around Leo’s waist. “Fae breeds—Airbred, Greenbred—are sweet. Like dark, dark chocolate, if they’re very pure or mixed strictly with human. Otherwise, they start to taste like straight up sugar, which isn’t terrible, but it can be a lot all at once.”

 

“Huh.” Leo slumps forward, gone boneless, resting his cheek against Eichi’s shoulder. “I don’t mind being a fresh fruit. So am I more of an orange, or a lemon? Or one of those weird citruses that grow by the sea, like loquats?”

 

“…More like a strawberry, actually,” Eichi muses, stroking a hand slowly down Leo’s back. “It’s pure paladins that end up being very citrus, like strong bergamot tea, almost. With non-magical humans, it’s less straight-up citrus, more fruit.”

 

“Mm. Sorry I couldn’t be more interesting and tasty.”

 

“I’m not complaining. I like strawberries. I already told you, I only dislike seafood. Oh, and I’ve never eaten an Icebred, so I can’t comment there.”

 

“Maybe your tongue would freeze off. Or freeze _to_ him! Hey, do you know what they use as lubricant in the Shadowlands?”

 

“Ummm. Is this a joke you’re trying to make, or do you want me to answer that honestly, from experience?”

 

“Tell me what you know, I want to know if Rei was messing with me, actually.”

 

“Uh…well, it honestly does depend on the breed. Some of them are self-lubricating?”

 

“The stuff that comes in the bottles!” Leo insists. “Rei said there was a standard!”

 

“Oh. I have no idea, he’s a weird sex demon.”

 

Leo visibly deflates. “I knew it.”

 

“…Know what? Give me specifics, I’m curious now.”

 

“He said it was Drake’s seed, I thought that was hot.”

 

Eichi pauses, then thinks about that for a moment, and slowly nods. “Sounds about right, actually. Some creatures _do_ have seed that’s particularly useful…again, I’ve never had a drake, I wouldn’t know. Let me have a taste of your half-breed, then I can tell you.”

 

“Nnnnnnnn.” It’s not precisely a negative, but Leo does flush deeply pink at that, looking away.

 

“That’s better than last night, when you told me he was off-limits,” Eichi sing-songs, tightening his arms around Leo’s waist. “Is he a strong wizard? Maybe he’ll feed me juuust fine…and drakes use a kind of sex magic, too, so it’ll only benefit him!”

 

“No…now I’m feeling conflicted,” Leo mutters. “I wanna be part of it if it happens. And he’ll probably say no. So don’t push him.”

 

“Me push him? _You_ push him, he sounds tasty,” Eichi grumpily says. “Especially if he’s strong. But he’s a half-breed, so he probably is. Ahh, now I’m thinking about it. Let’s talk about something else.”

 

“Get more excited about me,” Leo whines. “You’ve barely met him, ohhhh, and by the way, he’ll never do anything with you if he finds out you’re the one who messed with his Dawncloak. I forgot about that.”

 

“Mmm? His Dawncloak?” Eichi blinks a few times, his head tilted. “But I didn’t touch him. Also, I’m always excited about you, don’t be silly.”

 

“ _Act_ like it.” Leo nuzzles under Eichi’s chin, cuddling close. “You’re so…speculative, sometimes. It worries me. I want you to be the person I know you can be, you know? The one that most people don’t bother looking for. I know that’s probably never going to happen, but I still want it.”

 

“You’ve gotten…weird, in the past, when I acted too possessive,” Eichi sniffs, rolling to the side and dragging Leo with him to crush him underneath his weight. “I’m already your guard dog, I’ve promised to be that. Don’t be too pushy, or I’ll start being obnoxious. Go back to how your half-breed thinks I messed with his Dawncloak, I don’t like being accused of things I didn’t do, only the things I _did_ do.”

 

Leo frowns, and starts tracing music notes on Eichi’s biceps. “Did you not try to bother Izumi through the bond? Or try to get information out of the Dawncloak mentally? I thought that’s what I heard, that’s why Rei snapped it.”

 

“Oh. Oh, I did do that part,” Eichi says with a laugh, shrugging lightly. “But I didn’t do any _permanent_ damage, not like Rei. Ugh, he always gets away with everything, you know? Pisses me off.”

 

Leo grins. “You’re sooo quick to pretend you didn’t do anything, even when you did. It’s kind of cute. In a bad way. It’s fine, the bond fragments got eaten.”

 

“You say that like it was my fault! Ugh. Your half-breed should be grateful that happened, anyway. His Dawncloak was a useless little thing, truly.”

 

“Hey. He’s one of _your_ wizards. If he’s no good, you didn’t train him right.”

 

“No…no. Some wizards are just…very limited. He has a pretty face. He should stick to that.”

 

“ _Rude_. See, this is why you were never a very effective leader. Ruling is about bringing about the best in the people under you,” Leo says, only a little bit sanctimoniously. “And finding their hidden talents. Sometimes they’re _very_ hidden. But he has a lot of uses, he’s phenomenal at being a magical researcher!”

 

“Uh huh,” Eichi says, rolling his eyes. “You’re being a brat. You can tell me I was never an effective leader all you like; I kept hold of the Academy for centuries. I knew your great-great-grandfather when he was young and attractive.”

 

“Did you have sex with him?”

 

“You’re obsessed with where my dick has been.”

 

“I’m probably just obsessed with your dick. What was he like?” Leo changes tacks at the speed of thought, as usual. “My great-grandfather, I’ve heard so many stories about him, but mostly from boring old men who only remembered him when _he_ was a boring old man.”

 

“Mmm. Short. Mean. Redheads are always cute, so I’m partial. Smart as a whip and a terrible singer, so I don’t know where you got that from.” Eichi idly tugs on Leo’s ponytail. “I’ve always liked your family. Your father was somewhat of an exception, but I didn’t _mind_ him. He was just a bit close-minded.”

 

“He nearly destroyed the whole country,” Leo says bluntly. “And I’m pretty sure he paid or influenced a gang of nobles to kidnap and rape my lover. My husband. And now that I’ve sorted out most of the paperwork, I can tell you that he was _not_ good at keeping graft low and productivity high. _Or_ at maintaining the borders. Or any important treaties.”

 

“He was easy to work with and really liked when wizards could blow things up. I can respect that.”

 

Leo makes a face. “There’s more to life than blowing things up. Honestly, I don’t think you _were_ very good about making use of the wizards under you. It’s making me rethink whether I should really send Wataru and Natsume to help in the West…just because _you_ couldn’t find a way to stop the Inglings without blowing stuff up doesn’t mean there wasn’t one.”

 

“You’re looking at the situation in an oversimplified manner, but by all means, continue to criticize your dog,” Eichi hums, entirely unfazed. “The only way to get rid of Inglings is with Inglings themselves. Wataru and Natsume watching the Sorrow’s Gate in the West is all well and good right now, but I’m sure Wataru has realized as well—there’s not much use to his presence. Shu and his gross little crow were a much better fit for the area.”

 

“That…hasn’t been possible.”

 

“Mm? Oh, I was wondering about that. I mean,” Eichi backtracks, looking innocently up at the ceiling. “Not that I know anything about Shu or what he’s been up to. There’s no way I could know.”

 

“Hey. Stop being suspicious on purpose, you’re suspicious enough by accident.”

 

“What, really? That’s so mean! I’m not suspicious, I look as sweet as an angel.”

 

Leo scowls. “You let me call you an angel for years without correcting you. I probably looked really stupid to people who know what you were, didn’t I?”

 

“I doubt it. Most people don’t know what I am. And most people that do,” Eichi hums, leaning in to steal a kiss, “still think I’m an angel. Look at me, I’m adorable.”

 

The kiss softens Leo, as all of Eichi’s kisses do, even if that makes him blush. “I shouldn’t let you do these things to me,” he murmurs, going pliant in Eichi’s arms. “It’s like when the bond was _so_ active. It’s not that I can’t stop…but sometimes I really don’t want to.”

 

“What’s the harm, I’m literally a useless blob of a creature now,” Eichi sighs, sprawling out on top of him. “Until I’m fed, that is. And if all I’m doing right now is making you feel good, I doubt that’s a criminal offense.”

 

“It better not be, but that’s how my life goes, pretty much,” Leo says cheerfully. “I wouldn’t be surprised if one of my stupid advisors found some obscure law that says it _is_ illegal for me to enjoy myself.”

 

“I’ll kill them for you, then.”

 

Leo beams. “No!”

 

“Why not? They sound bad.”

 

“I mean, they’re hypothetical, for starters.”

 

“Just in general, then,” Eichi murmurs, nuzzling his face into Leo’s hair. “If they’re ever bad, I’ll kill them. I thought you learned to be less tolerant of traitorous little shits.”

 

Leo smiles, and hides it. “I am, I am. I just…mm. Not liking me isn’t the same thing as working against me.”

 

“I suppose you’re right, but that doesn’t mean I have to like _them._ Oh, I bet they know me. That’s going to be interesting, actually.”

 

“Oh?” Leo knows enough to be wary of the word _interesting_ by now. “How so?”

 

“If they’re left over from your father’s rule, then they most likely like me quite a bit.”

 

Leo makes a face. “They’re not. Almost none of them are, I told you I dismissed everyone and made them swear loyalty.”

 

“Ahh. Well, I’ll make them love me, don’t worry. Then we can play games against them and make them feel stupid for ever disliking you. That’s the fun part.”

 

“…Does it make me a bad king if that sounds really good?” Leo asks softly. “That, and curling up at your feet most nights? I’m just so tired of import taxes and backstabbing.”

 

“Not to ruin your entire image of every king ever,” Eichi sympathetically says, stroking Leo’s hair, “but most kings are _enormous_ sluts that love being on their back instead of backstabbing. That’s cross-species, I assure you.”

 

“Oh. That’s nice, I think.” Leo blinks slowly, digesting this information. “That sounds like the kind of thing everyone says, but can’t prove. But you’ve been there, haven’t you?”

 

“Mmhm. As you like to remind me often, I’m very old.”

 

“I keep mentioning it,” Leo says seriously, “because I don’t know exactly _how_ old.”

 

“Some,” Eichi cheerfully says. “Actually, I have no idea _how_ old. Time is a sort of nebulous construct down in the depths…in the Shadowlands in general, ha! Five years in the Shadowlands can be five minutes in this realm.”

 

Leo shrugs. “Then I’ll just have to stick with _old_. But are we talking like, old like a grandfather’s grandfather, or old like this palace, or old like a mountain?”

 

“Oh…a mountain. Definitely. You think Rei is old, don’t you?”

 

“He seems old, yeah.”

 

“He’s a child compared to me, no matter how he’d refuse to admit it.”

 

Leo frowns. “A child compared to you…like Tori is a child compared to me? Or like my unborn child is a child compared to my great-grandfather? I’m just saying, some scale would be nice.”

 

“Your unborn child to your great- _great_ -grandfather.” Eichi runs a finger down Leo’s arm, contemplative. “Wataru is also very, very old, in a similar way. I suppose that’s one of the reasons we’ve always gotten along well. Rei…well, Rei is old, for his kind, and his human blood ages him as well. But he’s still a child.”

 

“Heh.” Leo can’t quite help feeling smug about that. “So when he acts like he knows everything…well, then again…” He trails off, thinking. “I know some men my age who don’t know anything. And others who have seen enough to age them before their time. How sure are you that Wataru didn’t spend a few hundred years working on the same poem on a cloud or something?”

 

“I mean,” Eichi dreamily hedges, “I suppose it would be fine if he did…”

 

“But you know what I mean! An old priest who lives his whole life in a monastery might have pretty bad advice, but a kid who’s been on the streets since he was three might know a lot more about, I don’t know, the sewer system.” Leo frowns. “Rei has probably had more sex than you.”

 

“He’s fucked thousands, so I have no doubt about that,” Eichi sniffs. “Wataru has seen enough, I’m sure, even if he does spend a lot of his time just making up stories. I think it’s charming.”

 

Leo sighs. “Okay, forget my point. I think it’s a good one, though.”

 

“It makes Rei sound like a stupid little brat, so I like that part,” Eichi cheerfully agrees.

 

“Do you need anything before we leave in the morning?” Leo asks wearily. “Anything I can get you, or that you need to bring? You should go see Keito.”

 

“I _should_ go see Keito, but he’s going to be so moody, I just know it.” Eichi sighs, nuzzling his face into Leo’s hair. “So long as Madara didn’t set fire to my clothes, I _think_ I’m fine.”

 

“I mean, he hasn’t yet, I think. You’ll have to make sure to be nice to him on the journey, though,” Leo says mildly, standing and tugging on his breeches.

 

Eichi’s head jerks up at that, and he stares at Leo, eyes narrowing. “You can’t be serious. I can’t travel with a dragon.”

 

Leo tugs down his shirt, shrugging. “Yeah, you can.”

 

“No, I can’t! Leo, he wants me dead,” Eichi protests, crawling across the bed to grab at Leo’s arm. “Dragons and archdemons, we _don’t_ like each other. And he in particular doesn’t like me because he’s taken it upon himself to be obsessed with you!”

 

“He’s not obsessed with me,” Leo says, rolling his eyes. “He likes me. I’m his friend. And not for nothing? You’re not exactly in good health, and Rei can’t be expected to protect our whole traveling party the entire time. He’s mostly going to be flying around above us, making sure we don’t get ambushed by people who want to drastically alter the line of succession.”

 

Eichi makes a low, displeased sound, dropping his hand and sinking down into the bed like he’s melting. “I hate this, I want you to know that,” he mutters. “This is me expressing my disapproval, _Your Majesty_. He’s definitely obsessed with you, regardless of what you see from your perspective. That’s what dragons do. Also, again, I hate this.”

 

Leo grins. “You mean he wants to add me to my hoard? He promised he’ll wait until I’m bones to do that. At least, I think he was joking.”

 

“He’s not. Dragons don’t have a sense of humor. If you don’t believe me, ask Rei,” Eichi unhappily says.

 

“But Rei likes him.” Leo finishes lacing his breeches, and cards his fingers through his hair, trying to look more presentable. “Apparently his seed burns, though. And he’s got two pricks.”

 

“Rei likes his dick,” Eichi dismissively says, collapsing back down with a huff. “You really don’t know how to talk about men unless it’s about sex, do you? That half-breed has you trained.”

 

“Men I _like_ ,” Leo clarifies. “Listen. I spent the first couple decades of my life terrified to talk to _anyone_ about sex, because I thought I was going to get whoever I talked to murdered. I’m making up for lost time.”

 

“Ahhh. That’s fair. Slutty,” Eichi mildly says. “But fair. Where’s Keito stashed away, I really should tell him I’m not going to the damned desert with him.”

 

Leo shrugs, heading for the door. “No idea. Probably the dungeon, honestly. Can’t even say Tsukasa was wrong to make that call.”

 

“You’re very mean to guests, you know,” Eichi calls after him, huffily throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “Just because I call myself your dog, that doesn’t mean you can treat me so coldly!”

 

“I feel like you keep forgetting you’re a war criminal,” Leo says cheerfully. “See you at dawn! Until then, sit, stay!” And with that, he leaves, shutting the door behind him.

 

Eichi makes a face at the door as it shuts, and grabs for his clothes, thoroughly discarded before even Leo had arrived to pay him a visit. War criminal or not, that doesn’t mean he won’t go hunting around the palace for where they’ve stashed the one man arguably most loyal to him (for better, or for worse).

 

The bastard is, indeed, in the dungeons, which are cold and dark, and makes his lungs want to seize up. Even down here, it smells like Rei, and Eichi tries not to growl and grumble about it as a little wiggle of his fingers creates a trio of light motes to light the way. “Keito? You’re awake, aren’t you?”

 

There’s a long, deep sigh, and a dim shape moves, going from lying on its back to sitting up, rubbing hands over face. “You didn’t forget about me after all, hm?” asks Keito in a dry creak of a voice. When the light increases, he winces at the brightness, the purpling bruises on his face thrown into sudden relief.

 

“Of course I didn’t,” Eichi huffs, drifting to the door of Keito’s cell, and idly running a finger over the lock. It would be very easy to undo that, but what would Leo think of that? How annoying, that wouldn’t’ve stopped him before. “Who did you mouth off to? Or did Rei finally _do_ something in one of your lover’s spats?”

 

Keito looks away, as if he’s about to start counting bricks again. “He didn’t like what I had to say, but this wasn’t him. You still have enemies.”

 

Eichi’s eyebrows raise, and he curls a hand around one of the bars, thumbing over it. “If you name them, I’ll do something about them,” he casually says. “Otherwise…apparently, I’m leaving in the morning. I’ll ask nicely to see you released, because I’m sure you’d rather go home than stick around here.”

 

“They didn’t give me their ID numbers,” Keito says dryly, still staring at the wall. “Leaving in the morning. Somehow I doubt you’re headed South like we planned.”

 

“…Well…no.” Eichi heaves a sigh. “Keito, I told you that was contingent on a few different things.”

 

“If it helps,” Keito says quietly, “only a small part of me ever thought you’d follow through. I’ve always known I wasn’t enough for you. Go.”

 

“When you say it like that, it hurts my feelings.” Eichi hesitates, glancing down. “I do love you. It’s just—not—quite the same.”

 

“Not enough.” Keito’s smile is brittle. “I’d feel sorry for hurting your feelings, if I honestly thought you had any. Why did you really show up to me, Eichi? Is it just because I’m the only person stupid enough to trick into doing whatever you want?”

 

“No. It’s because you’re the only person that bothered keeping any part of me around.”

 

Eichi sighs again, and prods at the lock again before it clicks apart underneath his touch. “I really am grateful. I’m sorry that I can’t give you what I want, I really am. I think it would be a lot easier, but…there’s nothing good about demons, you know? We’re not bright, when it comes to love.”

 

Keito’s eyes are dull when he turns to look at Eichi at last. His shoulders are slumped, and he looks thinner and older than usual, in the deep shadows. “I have lost the trust and respect of every person I love in this world because of you,” he says flatly. “If you leave in the morning, never talk to me again. I’ll burn everything I have of yours. I’m tired of being your plaything.”

 

“You don’t mean that.” Keito’s said that before, but admittedly, this time…it does sound very different. Eichi decides to ignore that bit. “But I _am_ leaving in the morning. Your lover’s in the North, so I’ve heard. I’ll tell him he needs to pay you a visit.”

 

“Whatever.” Keito stretches back out on the floor, staring at the ceiling in the darkness. “Is that all? I have tiles to count.”

 

Eichi scowls, and shoves open the door to the cell with a huff of effort. “You’re such an obnoxious brat sometimes. You can be pissed at me all you want, but if you blow off that cute redhead, I’ll actually rip your head off. You’ve got a solid chance at happiness in front of you, and if you don’t take it, then you’re just as terrible as me—and, well, I thought better of you!”

 

“Solid chance at happiness,” Keito mutters sardonically, not looking away from the ceiling. “He has a scar over his heart where I tortured him for information on your orders, and a resonant bond with someone else. And I’ve betrayed him again, for you. I’m just going to live in the mountains where no one ever has to interact with me. If they ever let me out of here.”

 

“Oh, for the love of the gods—that’s my fault, not yours; it’s a fake bond, you dipshit; and you walked me to the Capital, that’s hardly a betrayal. Also, I’m breaking you out, get up, dust yourself off, go home. I guarantee if you ask Rei for a horse, he’ll just give you one and probably also suck your dick.”

 

“I’m done following your orders,” Keito says softly. “And I don’t need whatever emotions you have leftover. Leave.”

 

“…Really, you’re not even going to listen to me this one last time?” Eichi mutters, frowning down at him crossly before whirling on his heel in a huff. “Fine. Rot down here, then, see if I care.”

 

Every fiber in Keito’s body strains to respond, to roar, _And another thing!_

 

But that’s what he’s always done. He’s _always_ caved right when Eichi was about to listen to him, and leave him in peace, and it’s always led him just right back here.

 

So for once, when Eichi goes to storm out, he sighs, and closes his eyes. He already knows how many tiles there are, anyway.

 

It’s another hour before another pair of footsteps sounds through the dungeon, these much quieter and more surefooted, even without the presence of light.

 

Rei’s pale fingers curl around one of the bars of the cell, and he pauses, surprised to find it already opened. Ah. Well, he can’t say he’s that surprised, actually. “And here I was coming to break you out,” he quietly says, eyes twin, glittering spots of red in the dark dungeon. “Or rather, tell you that you’re free to go. If you’re looking to leave the Capital, I had a horse prepared for you; just ask for it in the stables.” He pauses. “I also wanted to apologize, for earlier.”

 

Rei’s quiet voice does what Eichi’s hadn’t. It brings the hot sting of tears to Keito’s eyes. “No,” he says, and his voice is a rasp as he digs the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. I’m—I’m really stupid, you see.”

 

“A synonym for ‘in love’, unless I’ve forgotten the common tongue,” Rei wryly says, slipping into the cell. “Keito, it’s fine. You’ve every right to be upset with me. I didn’t mean for you to get involved in this again; I thought…well, I thought your retirement would exclude you from it entirely. That was stupid of me to assume.”

 

“If I hadn’t kept his things, it never would have happened.” Keito sits up slowly, resting his head back against the wall. “You should have a word with the king, by the way. These are not comfortable cells.”

 

“I think that’s sort of the point of a dungeon,” Rei gently says, and promptly drops down next to him. “If you hadn’t kept his things, he would’ve found someone else that had…or found some other way to come back. His wizard’s cloak is made to be practically indestructable. That alone could’ve fallen into some trader’s hands, and he would’ve come back that way. Don’t blame yourself; it’s my fault for not assuming he’d go that route when I blocked every other way.”

 

After a long moment, Keito reaches out his hand, laying it on the floor next to Rei’s thigh, palm up—not demanding, but offering. “If it helps, I meant everything I said,” he says lightly. “And I still like you as a person.”

 

“So you still think I should go back to the Shadowlands and never come back?” Rei asks, setting his hand over Keito’s and gently curling his fingers. “I think that sometimes, too. More often, lately.”

 

“…I think you’re falling into the same trap Eichi did, a long time ago,” Keito says softly. “I think that being of two people, you really don’t know what you are, or where you belong. Maybe it’s nowhere. But I don’t think the people in this country are ever going to really understand you.”

 

“…You’re right, but there’s one fundamental difference you’re forgetting,” Rei says, his expression wry. “I actually believe my own bullshit. Eichi never has, never has bothered to make himself palatable to humans, and never will. I like to think I can fake it better than he ever could…and can keep doing that, at least for a little while longer.”

 

“And you want to?” Keito squeezes gently, feeling Rei’s cool, smooth fingers under his own dryer, thinner ones. “You’re still that entertained by our drama, after all this time?”

 

“You know I’m not here because I’m _entertained_ , right? You can compare me to Eichi all you like, but I’m not him.”

 

Keito grimaces. “Forgive me. I’m…falling back into my old ways. Of being sort of…overwhelmed by him. He’s never brought out the best in me. The most devoted, yes, but not the best.”

 

“It’s actually _amazing_ to me that he hasn’t had you thralled for all these years,” Rei muses, leaning in close to Keito to look him over, lifting his other hand to poke and prod. “You exhibit all the signs, and yet, you’re free of that influence…”

 

“I know,” Keito says dryly, submitting to the prodding. “It’s incredible anyone could be this much of an idiot. I’m not blind to what he does, or to what he is. I’m really that terrible.”

 

“Truly incredible. You know he’s not that good at sucking cock, right?” Rei asks, going in for that jab as a revenge for Keito’s earlier remarks. “I actually always found him to be a very boring creature to roll around with, and he never respected simple boundaries. Not worth your time, trust me.”

 

Keito grimaces. “I’m done with him, Rei. I mean it this time. I don’t…think I should have too much contact with anyone else after this.” He pauses, then asks, because he can’t force himself not to, “Is Ritsu’s bond real?”

 

Rei, politely, refrains from pointing out how many times Keito has declared _I’m done with him, Rei_ , in the past. It’s not worth it. “Nope.”

 

“But you let Mao keep thinking it was.”

 

“You think that boy is _stupid_ , don’t you?”

 

Keito’s head snaps to the side, and he stares at Rei, blinking hard. “What? You’re saying he knows?”

 

“Of course I’m saying he knows. He probably figured it out years ago, and keeps playing along because he knows it makes Ritsu happy.” Rei sighs at him. “ _Honestly._ Do you think I’d keep a pair of eyes that didn’t scrutinize every single little thing?”

 

Something cold and sharp flips over in Keito’s heart, and he swallows hard. “You could have told me. _Someone_ could have told me, he should have told me, I’ve been thinking I was stepping over something sacred every time we…”

 

“Keito. Something I need you to realize, right now, is that not every bond—in fact, _most_ bonds—aren’t like what Shu and I have,” Rei firmly interrupts before Keito can continue that train of thought. “In fact, most humans bonded to wizards can’t even _feel_ it. Understand that Mao plays along still even with me. He’s never flat-out stated that he knows it’s fake. I doubt he ever _will_. But even if it was real, it’s likely he never would’ve felt it in the first place.”

 

Keito’s lips thin, and then he shakes his head, just once. “No, that isn’t right. He’s probably just lying to himself. Likely he knows it in his heart, but hasn’t admitted it to himself fully. That sounds more like him.”

 

“Ah, yes. Because as we all know, no one else has agency unless you have decided they do, and you’re always right about everyone and everything ever.”

 

That makes Keito flinch. “Fine. Maybe you’re right, and he knows. Am I…is that how I come off?”

 

“About the people you like and often want to protect? Yes.”

 

“Damn. That’s terrible behavior.”

 

“Yes, it is. You used to do it to me all the time, before you decided I was just a manipulative cunt that only sucked your dick to get back at Eichi.”

 

Keito sighs. “Look. I said some things that were bad and not true. I haven’t slept in a long time, all right? I’m sorry, I said I was sorry. These cells are…really good for self-reflection.”

 

“But very uncomfortable, I know.” Rei gives Keito’s hand a squeeze. “All right, I’m done ragging on you, then. But you aren’t allowed to go run off into the mountains and never come back—I like when you scold me and keep me in check.”

 

“You didn’t like it three days ago!”

 

“I like it when you do it without telling me you’re sick of me and want me to leave and never be around humans again—because that’s really shitty, and you know it.”

 

Keito bites his lip. A part of him wants to ask, _Did I really say all that?_ but the words have been echoing in his ears for days, ringing with the bitter taste of bile. Finally, he lets his head thunk back again on the brick wall. “Just leave me in here, I’m a bitter old man who doesn’t understand people anymore. If I ever did.”

 

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself or I’m going to tell my spy he can’t have a break from the North after all to meet your bitter old ass back at your home.”

 

Keito sucks in a sharp breath. “You’d turn him loose for a while? Let him come home?”

 

“I don’t know, are you going to stop sulking and remember you’ve got someone very young and very beautiful that loves you quite a bit?” Rei archly asks, giving the side of Keito’s head a gentle swat. “You idiot. You’re a total pervert and he lets you fuck his feet, you better _keep him._ ”

 

Keito flushes deeply, and just takes the swat to his head, knowing he deserves it. “But hating myself is so much easier. And hopefully, more amusing for everyone who knows me.”

 

“For anyone that cares about you, it’s actually quite awful.”

 

“If it helps, it’s horrible for me, as well.” Keito worries at his bottom lip, then admits softly, “I don’t really think I deserve him. Or a quiet life. With what I’ve done.”

 

“Too bad.” Rei heaves a sigh at him. “He wants you. You don’t get a choice in it. Ritsu might want _him_ , but his heart and mind has been in another place lately, too, so you don’t need to worry yourself about ‘keeping them apart.’”

 

“I don’t,” Keito says sharply. “I’ve never tried to keep them apart, never even tried to tell Mao to leave a moment later to go meet with him. I mean, mostly because I thought they had a resonant bond, but even without that, I know when I’m the interloper.”

 

“That’s what I mean by ‘worry’ about it. You see yourself as the problem here. You aren’t.”

 

“Let me guess. We’re all the problem because we’re all equally stupid and should just talk about our feelings more.”

 

“Mm, no, you just aren’t the problem at all, not least of all because Ritsu also fucks around as much as he likes.”

 

“I’m not the problem? That doesn’t sound right.”

 

“Keito, you know I love you, but when your self-esteem drops lower than mine, I start to worry.”

 

“I’m in jail for a few really stupid reasons, Rei. This is not a great time for my self-esteem, believe it or not.”

 

“You’re in jail because no one likes Eichi. And you’ve been released, but you’re still choosing to sit here, so now you’re wallowing. You never let me do that, so why should I let you?”

 

“Er…because you don’t like Eichi either?” Keito sighs. “I know it’s not my fault he’s back. And honestly, what I’m most upset about is the worst. I…after _all this time_ , I still believed him when he said he’d run away with me. If that doesn’t make me the stupidest, most pathetic man on the face of this planet of ours, I don’t know what would.”

 

Rei just stares at him for a moment, then shakes his head, leaning back. “There are things far worse than wanting to see the best in someone, and hoping against hope that they’ll finally do something good for you. It makes you an optimist, not pathetic. For what it’s worth, I wish he had kept his word. Desperately, I wish that.”

 

Keito turns to face Rei, a grimace of pain twisting his face. “Why do you make it impossible for me to forget all the reasons I ever loved you?”

 

“I’m a curse upon humanity, don’t forget that, too.”

 

“But you say that while smiling so _handsomely_.”

 

“That’s why I’m a curse.” Rei bats his eyelashes. “Humans find me very appealing, isn’t that nice?”

 

Keito lets out a huff, annoyed without being dismissive. “You are appealing,” he says, with the air of someone having to admit an embarrassing secret. “What are you going to do with him? He says he’s going somewhere.”

 

“ _I_ want to toss him back to the depths,” Rei snorts, looking away. “But the king’s decided to claim him as his own personal wizard, meaning he’s out of my jurisdiction. He wants to give Eichi a _task_ , and that task is closing Sorrow’s Gates.”

 

Keito snorts. “That should be playtime for him, it’s hardly difficult. He’s done it before.”

 

“Except he can’t feed off of me, which is what he did before, and he can’t feed off of his mate, because that will kill the king.”

 

Keito’s eyebrows raise. “Will it? Eichi doesn’t seem to think so—or didn’t, when I spoke to him.”

 

“Have we learned _nothing_ about trusting archdemons, Keito?”

 

“I—listen, I don’t mean that, I mean he genuinely seemed eager to see the king. Why would he be if he wouldn’t be able to feed on him?”

 

“Because that’s his mate. His lizard brain has converted that to affection, maybe, but it’s mostly just lizard brain wanting to be near the person that is his.” Rei rolls his eyes. “Whatever. The king is hellbent on this as a concept, and I have to admit, it’s appealing to not have Shu dealing with those gates anymore, so I’ve come up with a solution. A little stop through the West where Wataru is can’t hurt.”

 

“Good. They deserve each other, feed the bird to the snake and stand back,” Keito says, tired and bitter and hurt. “Will you…will you really send Mao home?”

 

“I don’t know, are you going to _go_ home and stop sulking?”

 

Keito glares at him. “I was _trying_ to atone,” he says loftily. “But if that’s not required, then yes, I’ll go home and stop sulking.”

 

“Atone by not answering Eichi’s summon the next time he starts whining your name,” Rei says without sugarcoating a drop, and slowly climbs to his feet, stretching out his limbs. “Go home, act the part of a good lover for once. Who knows, maybe he’s already beaten you there, I told him to start heading back a few days ago…”

 

Keito opens his mouth, closes it, then just covers his face with his hands and groans. “I hate you,” he says, totally unconvincingly. “Also I need to borrow a horse. Mine turned into a beetle. And I crushed it on accident.”

 

“There’s already one waiting in the stables for you.” Rei beams. “It’s _almost_ like I know how you are.”

 

“That I’ve always been easy to talk into anything?” Keito asks dryly, and hauls himself to his feet, wincing as he does. “All right. I’m back to saying these cells should be more comfortable for sure.”

 

“No, that you always _want_ to do the right thing, but won’t, if Eichi’s anywhere near you.” Rei reaches over, straightening Keito’s clothes, and gently touches one of the bruises on his face, leaving it numbed from his touch. “I wish you’d take better care of yourself, regardless of where your loyalties lie.”

 

At that, some last part of Keito’s reserve seems to crumble, and he sags forward, thunking his forehead against Rei’s shoulder. “I was trying to stop him,” he whispers, hands trembling. “I was, I—I left Mao a cypher, I did everything I could think of to keep Eichi out of trouble, I thought—I really thought he _might_ listen to me, and if I could stop him from going—like he did before—it would have been worth having to give up everything. I thought.”

 

“…You know it’s not your fault, don’t you?” Rei quietly presses, sliding his arms around Keito to pull him into his chest, squeezing him in an attempt to stop his shaking. “You’re competing with instinct, Keito. Even I couldn’t stop him from coming up from the depths again, and I tried, _very hard_. Creatures like him—when they want something, and that something is their mate, they _won’t_ stop.”

 

“I always thought better of him.” Keito lets himself be pulled in, which says a lot about his current mental state. “Listen. You’re going to be alive a lot longer than me. If I wind up being remembered in history for being stupid, at least make sure everyone knows it was for stupid reasons I thought were good at the time, and not because I’m a cackling maniac.”

 

“I don’t think anyone’s going to remember you as a cackling maniac,” Rei gently says, smoothing a hand down Keito’s back. “Or as someone stupid. I think they’ll mostly just remember you as an uptight Enhanced that _really_ should’ve gotten laid more often. Perhaps with some Eichi connotation there, but…it’s inevitable. Keito, he’s an archdemon, you really have to think the worst.”

 

“And you,” Keito says carefully, “need to remember how little all of us know about different demons. Me included. The king included. If you want people to be on their guard around certain creatures, educate wizards and the Enhanced. You’re in control of the Academy, you can make that decision. Consider it? I…even I have no idea what he’s capable of. Or what you’re capable of.”

 

“I’ve been educating. The king, especially, knows quite a bit about archdemons at this point. It doesn’t matter what I say about Eichi, though, to you and the king. You’ll be the same.” Rei sighs, squeezing him again. “Why are you bringing me into this? I’m useless in the human realm, this is why I need my bonded to keep me on track.”

 

“That isn’t what you said before you met him.” There’s no bitterness in the words, but there is sadness, a hint of longing for something far, far past. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, or if you can see it. But you’ve changed a lot, since you two met.”

 

“Isn’t marriage supposed to change a person for the better?” There’s a faint bit of amusement there, but not as much as Rei would like to feign. “I’m curious, actually, what you think I’ve turned into.”

 

Keito hesitates, then shakes his head. “Hard to explain. Maybe I’m just seeing more sides of you lately.”

 

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me anything concrete,” Rei complains, giving Keito a light shake. “Come on, you’ve been balls deep in me, you absolutely can explain it.”

 

“But I don’t want you to think I’m attacking you again. I scolded you too much.”

 

“I’m _asking_ for your point of view this time, though.” Rei leans back, head tilting as he studies Keito’s face. “As long as you’re not going to tell me that you hate me.”

 

Keito hesitates for a long minute, then sighs. “All right. You hide more of yourself, now. Like you’re afraid to let anyone know what you really are. But you’re still the same game-playing demon as ever, so it makes it seem more…more of a betrayal, I suppose. Maybe it’s just that you’re in command now, not the plucky young upstart. When your word is law for every wizard and damn near every demon, there’s more responsibility on you, but I don’t see you doing anything with it. I’ve talked to teachers at the Academy, they say you haven’t given them very much direction, so they’ve been teaching the same way they did under Eichi. And you’re starting to show the same desire for loyalty that he did towards the end, too. You used to organize things so that no matter if someone worked against you or not, you’d still come out on top. Now, you take it personally.” Keito shrugs, and looks away. “I haven’t put a lot of thought into it or anything. But I had to say something.”

 

“…That’s about what I expected you to say.”

 

Rei gives Keito’s arm an absent squeeze, then shrugs, releasing him. “It’s a bit pathetic to say I didn’t want this job, isn’t it? I mean, I suppose I wanted it more than I wanted Eichi to have it, but…I feel like a placeholder. It’s fine. I don’t intend to linger here. If I don’t stay in the Shadowlands, worse things will happen. I’ve already started training my successor, anyway, so the Academy and all of its wizards will be in much better hands as time passes. Just…first things first. This world has to _not_ blow to pieces.”

 

“But what do you want?” That comes out more frustrated, more confused than even Keito expects. “It’s like—no, you’re not hearing me, it’s not that you’re bad at it, it’s that—you’re so much better at being a counter-force, I think. I think you’re used to it. You want Eichi to not be in power, that’s simple—not easy, but simple, it’s a simple goal. But I don’t have any idea what kind of world you’re working for now, or what place you want in it.” Keito reaches up a hand, touching Rei’s face, just as soft and smooth as the day they’d met, when Keito was so young. “What do you want? I care.”

 

“Mmnnn…” It’s a vague, contemplative sort of sound, and Rei lifts a hand to give Keito’s a light, dismissive pat. “What I want is really irrelevant here. I’ll concern myself with that when all of this is resolved. Ah…but not for nothing,” he adds, glancing up. “The things we say in anger are often the most honest, so it should be a relief to you, knowing I really do plan on eventually going back to the Shadowlands. I don’t _like_ playing games with humans. I’m still part human, no matter how many people refuse to remember it.”

 

Keito’s mouth twists. “Just…don’t stay away too long,” he says finally, looking down and away. “I won’t live too much longer by your standards. Wanting you to meddle less doesn’t mean I don’t…want to see you anymore.”

 

“You’re not listening to me. I have to go _back_ , Keito.”

 

Keito frowns. “I’m hearing you, but that doesn’t mean you can’t leave anymore, does it? We don’t exactly have a closed border, mostly because I don’t think the king knows how to secure one.”

 

“Ritsu has been managing without me, but that doesn’t mean it can continue. Everyone wants him dead; he can’t really take over unless _I’m_ dead, and that’s not happening. So back to being the Demon King it is.” Rei heaves a sigh, briefly shutting his eyes and rubbing a hand across the back of them. “Actually, I’ll answer your question. I know what I want. A nap. I don’t want to talk about this, I have to leave at dawn and babysit a pair of archdemons, a dragon, and a king for weeks on end.”

 

Keito looks around his cell, then offers, “I’m sure my horse can wait a while. Your chambers? I’d really love to, you know. Sleep. With a pillow.”

 

Rei wavers, but only for a moment. “The Emperor going to bed with a war criminal, truly scandalous,” he exhales, offering Keito his hand. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I actually mean a _nap_. It’s not a euphemism.”

 

Keito barks out a laugh. “Keep your hands to yourself, pervert Emperor. I haven’t slept in a week, my bones are about to fall apart.” Then he takes Rei’s hand, and limps out of his cell.

 

“It’s not perversion, it’s nature,” Rei lightly says, giving Keito’s hand a squeeze before leading the way. “You’re about to be _my_ pillow, so you’ll tolerate my hands well enough.” There are worse ways to spend his evening, for sure.


	23. Chapter 23

 

Insomnia plagues the hungry, or so Eichi finds.

 

It’s the reason why, in the middle of the night, Eichi ventures to Rei’s chambers, a half dozen questions on his lips instead of threats for once. He doesn’t bother knocking, assuming in the middle of the night that Rei will be awake—but what greets him instead is the sight of Rei and Keito fast asleep, wrapped around one another, Rei having the audacity to be drooling onto Keito’s shoulder.

 

Eichi shuts the door, and the desire to be civil passes.

 

Keito is gone by the time they all leave, without a single word said to Eichi, and Eichi sticks to being pleasant and cheerful. Easier said than done, when Hiyori just wants to keep running his mouth about nothing, and Rei _exists_ , and Leo _smells like nothing but Rei again_ with that fucking dragon circling overhead. Even if he’s not right there, Eichi can still smell him, and feel him.

 

It’s past noon when they finally break, with the salt air ahead of them crisp on his nose, signaling that by late, late that evening, they’ll likely be in High Harbor—except Rei is taking them around that area, Eichi knows, because of one very obvious reason.

 

“So,” Eichi casually, brightly begins, “is it just me, or can anyone else feel how much magic is only _hours_ away? Hiyori? You can feel that, right? Ahh…that must be…what…one, two? Three? Nightcloaks? Mmn, High Harbor is so _lovely_ when it’s like this…”

 

Hiyori perks up, and looks over at Eichi, his own seat on his horse much less practiced, much less fluid. “Ooh, anyone we know? Or can eat? I could have a snack, the rules in this country make me so _hungry_ ,” he says wistfully.

 

Leo looks vaguely around, blinking. For most of the trip, he’s been letting Eichi vent his bad mood on Hiyori, and flipping through some of his books on the back of his own horse. Now, he sets the current tome in his saddlebag, and frowns at Rei. “I thought we had to go West, though? But we’re going East, why?”

 

Rei, yawning underneath the constant barrage of sunlight—it can’t even be overcast, how rude—merely offers Eichi a sleepily irritated stare before glancing back to Leo. “We can’t go through High Harbor,” he simply says. “So we’re going around.”

 

“It’s not that we _can’t_ , it’s that he doesn’t want us to end up stopping there and ‘wasting time’,” Eichi flippantly says, glancing over to Leo. “Your half-breed’s there. I can smell him.”

 

Leo’s face crumbles, and he looks over at Rei, eyes wide. “Izumi’s still there? I thought he was going back to the Shadowlands where it was safe! Ehhhh, why’s he there, is he all right?”

 

“I’m sure he’s fine; he was helping Shu when I left, so perhaps he’s still just resting. It’s only been a couple of days—“

 

“ _Or_ something could be wrong,” Eichi interrupts, reining his horse in to fall in step next to Leo. “Not only does going around High Harbor add time, but it’s also making you skip a chance to check in with your half-breed _and_ heir.”

 

A shiver goes up Leo’s spine, but then he firms his shoulders, and deliberately pulls his book back out. “If Rei wants to skip it,” he says bluntly, “it’s probably because you’ll do something dumb to Izumi or my baby. Around it is.”

 

Eichi stares at him, genuinely aghast. “Why would I do that? I’m an Archdemon, not a monster.”

 

“There’s no difference,” Rei deadpans, staring straight ahead.

 

“I don’t _care_ about that prissy little half-breed. He’s Leo’s priority, not mine,” Eichi snarls, temper starting to flare around the edges. “But it’s _stupid_ that we aren’t going through when there’s so much magic there! The chance for me to feed properly—and Hiyori, too, I _guess_ , whatever—it’s _right there.”_

 

“Say it nicer! Hiyori is important!” protests Hiyori.

 

“Hey, Rei,” Leo says, now that he’s thinking of it, “what does Shu say about Izumi? You’re in contact with him, right?”

 

“I’ll say it nicer if I feel like it!”

 

Rei tries not to let his eyes glaze from their squabbling. “In general? Or—oh, you mean you want me to ask him,” he realizes. “Right now. Ah, no, thank you.”

 

Leo worries at his bottom lip. “Why? Is something wrong? Izumi’s dead, isn’t he?”

 

“I’m sure he’s not,” Rei wearily says. “But I’m not speaking to Shu right now. Our bond is blocked. Deliberately.”

 

Hiyori rounds on Eichi, snarling, “This is your fault! If you weren’t so weird about Rei’s mate, we’d be able to eat him!”

 

Eichi growls, rounding right back. “Shut up! You’d be weird about him, too, if you’d ever eaten something properly fae! You’re too used to crunching on other archdemons, you have no sense of taste anymore!”

 

“This is why they make fun of you in the Deep Dark!” Hiyori sets his hands on his hips, glaring through his lashes. “I didn’t listen, but they were right about you!”

 

“What, because my mate’s not an archdemon? That’s not something that can be _helped_ , you know,” Eichi snarls, yanking his horse closer and reaching over to grab Hiyori by the collar. “Or was it something else? If you didn’t listen, then you wouldn’t know what they said. Tell me, so I can remember why I’m going to rip the depths to bits later.”

 

Hiyori sneers, as much as he can when he’s trying not to wet himself from Eichi’s angry face. “They say you’ve _lost it_ , that. you’ve gone soft. That you let a fucking _Cambion_ beat you and spread your mate’s legs!”

 

The crack of Eichi’s hand across Hiyori’s face is hard enough that it makes the bones in Eichi’s fingers rattle. “And you’re letting a Drude suck _your_ mate’s cock. Sounds a bit more pathetic to me.”

 

Rei heaves a sigh to himself, staring straight ahead and down the dirt road as he _feels_ Eichi’s eyes turn onto him. “Must we—“

 

“I wonder what it’s like,” Eichi flatly interrupts, obviously deciding that yes, _they must._ “To have a mate that genuinely doesn’t want you. To be fair, you don’t really want him, so I suppose that’s a fair trade. I can’t imagine Shu would even know _where_ to put his dick if he were on top.”

 

“That’s not fair,” Leo pipes up, though not very loud, and he shifts Melody closer to Rei’s horse, not wanting to get between the two archdemons. “I bet Shu’s a great lover.”

 

Hiyori doesn’t even hear him, his blood boiling as much as his face stings, and he swivels in his seat, upper body twisting completely around in a way that shows he’s putting little effort into looking like he has a normal human skeleton. “My mate loves me, with or without a fucking bond! Can you say the same? You’ve got the king as your dickpuppet, but he doesn’t _love_ you!”

 

Eichi hisses, the sound a low warning before he lunges half out of his saddle to grab at Hiyori’s face, making his horse anxiously toss its head. “I’m done talking to you right now,” he flatly says, releasing Hiyori with a shove after squeezing tightly enough to bruise. “Shut up and sit pretty and maybe I won’t rip your throat out.”

 

With that, his attention turns to Rei in full force. “Not even a nasty glare for that?” he flippantly tosses over, spurring his horse forward. “Ah, I guess you don’t _really_ care about Shu when you can get it elsewhere. How was Keito last night?”

 

“If you’re jealous enough to spy on us, then perhaps you should’ve had him yourself.”

 

More annoyed by Rei’s lack of reaction by the minute, Eichi urges his horse up alongside him. “Pass. You know, if you’re sick of trying to take care of Shu, you should loan him out to me. You personally know how well I could take care of him.”

 

There’s a tense heartbeat of a moment where the air around them very clearly changes, with their horses—except Rei’s, born from the Shadowlands and unfazed—nervously shying. Eichi just smiles. “No? But it would be fair. You fucked mine, let me fuck yours. He’s obviously got a thing for what you consider to be _monsters—_ he keeps that Dirtbred mess around him like _he’s_ his real mate, so he’d enjoy himself. My prick’s bigger, anyway.”

 

Leo whirls, green eyes wide, staring at Eichi in shock. “Hey…get hold of yourself,” he says quietly, hand so tight on the reins that his knuckles turn white. “You’re not acting like yourself. I suggest you start trying harder.”

 

“You only think he’s not acting like himself because you’re seeing what you want to,” Hiyori spits, hand on his face, fingertips cracked apart, revealing the tips of talons as he loses control of his human form. “This _is_ how he is, and worse. Take it from a monster.”

 

Eichi ignores them both, eyes slitted as they remain hyper-focused on Rei. “Did he tell you I paid him a visit?” he asks conversationally. “Of course he did. He’s kind of a whore, you know? If I had been a little more careful, I could’ve had him right then. Not in this body, of course,” he sighs, rolling a shoulder irritably. “But I still could’ve made him scream.”

 

“You can shut up at any point,” Rei quietly says, finally sparing a glance over to Eichi. It’s a mistake, because it makes his pulse quicken, the obvious _threat_ of the archdemon breathing down his neck, no matter how weakened, making his fingers twitch on his horse’s reins.

 

“Why would I do that? Open up your bond, or I’ll do it for you. Does he really not know I’m here? He _must_ know.” Eichi exhales, lifting and extending a hand, a little tendril of gold flickering out and extending down the road. “If not, let’s make sure—“

 

The speed with which Rei reaches out and grabs Eichi is anything but human. Eichi hits the ground when he’s wrenched from his saddle, giggling when Rei follows after him, stepping on his cloak to keep him from skittering away. To his credit, he doesn’t try all that much—Eichi mostly settles for flopping into the dirt, grinning. “Theeere we go—you’re sooo worried about him hearing about me, aren’t you? How many times did you _prooomise_ he’d never even have to _fathom_ my existence again, huh?”

 

“I told you,” Hiyori insists, pulling his horse away to the other side of the road, looking very much as if he’d love to ride away from all of this, leave them all behind, and take his chance with whatever his Dark Depths have in store for him. “I told you, this is how he _is_ , you’re an imbecile if you think he’s like anything human!”

 

Leo watches, transfixed, eyes wide in horror, unable to even speak.

 

_Rei? Rei, what’s happening? Is it—is that—_

 

“Talk about him again,” Rei says, his tone almost casual as he slams up a wall of magic far more firmly than he means to, a brusque, sharp dismissal of Shu’s inquiry. That definitely says too much in and of itself, but he can’t focus on that right now, not when Eichi is at his feet, looking so—so damnably _smug_ , so much like the creature he actually is, no matter how he stays so perfectly wrapped up in a skin that looks more angel than demon. “See what happens.”

 

“Was that him?” Eichi perks up, pushing himself up onto his elbows with a sly smile. “Ah, I’d know that scent anywhere. How is it that he _smells_ like that, hmm? Fresh-cut roses, that must be like a _drug_ to someone like you. Don’t you want to just bury your face in his neck and _breathe?_ He wouldn’t let me that close when he was in the Academy, but that didn’t stop me from, mm, being _around_ him, you know? That whole time you were away, biding your time, plotting and planning, I got to play with him.” Eichi’s eyes lid. “I’d say…the only thing I _didn’t_ do was fuck him, but I’ll be honest—I was waiting until I could do it while you were there. It’s my one regret about losing to you, actually; just _imagine_ what he’d look like with my dick in hi—“

 

Rei’s boot slams underneath his chin, abruptly shutting him up and making him bite into his tongue. Eichi chokes, vision spinning as he spits up blood, actually trying to claw himself away this time before Rei grabs him up by the throat, slamming his back directly into the nearest tree trunk. “Another word,” Rei lowly hisses, his own fangs bared, “and I’ll send you back now.”

 

Eichi laughs, the sound wet and gurgling in his throat. “Fuck, I wish you would,” he breathes, face flushed as Rei’s nails bite into his throat. “You try so _hard_ to be a fake little part-human. I bet Shu would like your _arrangement_ more if you just fucked him like the bitch he is and fed like you’re supposed to—“

 

It’s with a gross, wet crack that Rei, quite literally, snaps Eichi’s neck. Eichi collapses, limp in Rei’s grasp before he’s tossed directly into the forest, and lies there as a pile of limbs for a moment before slowly sitting up, and popping his vertebrae back into place with a grimace. “Ow,” he sighs, rubbing at the back of his neck. “That _does_ hurt. Ooh, you’re spilling,” he remarks, shaking off the now too overactive underbrush of vines and weeds that threaten to crawl over his limbs. “Sorry about that!”

 

Leo’s face is white, bloodless, his head spinning with the spewing vitriol lashing back and forth between the two most powerful men he’s ever met. “Stop it,” he whispers, feeling more like a terrified child watching his parents hit each other than a king. “Stop it, stop it, you’re—“

 

 _You’re terrible_ , he wants to say, wants to run away, wants to cry, wants to throw up with the way fear had seized him when Eichi’s neck had snapped. His horse whickers, shifting

uneasily under him, reacting to his tension.

 

“We’re done,” Rei tersely says, turning away from Eichi and grabbing his horse’s reins, hauling himself back into the saddle. “Get up. Get on your horse. We’re going.”

 

“Give me a minute, I’ve been _brutalized_ ,” Eichi dramatically whines, picking himself back up to his feet, albeit with very wobbly legs. “Damn, it’s hard to believe you just want to be on your back when you can toss me around like that—“

 

A vine snags around one of his ankles and yanks him back down, making Eichi yelp and curse, and then growl, teeth bared as he rips the vine off, lunging back up to his feet, and then straight onto Rei, ripping him off of his horse with his talons rending into flesh.

 

“Because that’s productive,” Leo mutters under his breath, and leaps off his own horse with the idiocy born of desperate instinct, shoving the reins into Hiyori’s hands.

 

“Don’t do it,” Hiyori warns, catching him by the shoulder, his own talons retracted by now. “Even Eichi’ll rip you apart if you get involved. He can’t help it, this is what they’re like when their natures are roused. Trust me.”

 

In the roll of dust on the road, it’s difficult to even see the scuffle that ensues until it settles, though the snarls and hisses sound more at home with two animals fighting than anything appearing remotely human. Eichi’s chest is heaving where he lays, flat on his back, the long, black claws of Rei’s nails at his throat, his own bared teeth longer, sharper, glinting in the too-bright sun of midday. There’s a long, tense moment before Rei slowly shifts his weight off of Eichi’s chest, hissing low in his throat when Eichi even seems to think about moving.

 

Finally, very carefully, Rei straightens to his feet, and yanks off his now-torn cloak off of his shoulders, disguising the limp he’s acquired by speedily hauling himself back into his saddle for good this time. He spits blood, wiping his mouth before picking up the reins. “Don’t help him,” he flatly warns Leo. “Just get back on your horse and leave him there.”

 

“Bitch,” Eichi lowly hisses, twisting slowly onto his side with a groan. His talons curl into the dirt, bunching it up underneath black nails. “When I’m fed, I’m going to fuck you until you bleed. Nhh, Leo, come help me up.”

 

Leo stands frozen, eyes darting side to side like a deer caught by a flashing lantern. “I—what the fuck was that?” he whispers, not sure if he’s talking to Rei or Eichi. Then he swings up onto his horse, face hardening. “You,” he says to Eichi, expression gone dark and stormy, “can wait for Shu to come help you up. You fucking ass.”

 

It’s not Eichi, but _Rei_ that whirls on Leo, cornering him in an instant on horseback. “No one,” he snaps, eyes slitted and glowing red behind dark lashes, “ _no one_ gets to talk about Shu right now. Do you fucking understand me? Say his name again and I’ll rip your tongue out.”

 

He whips his horse around, spurring it forward, not offering another word, and Eichi stifles a giggle into the ground before slowly hoisting himself up to his feet. His breath stutters in his chest, but he opts to ignore that as he fumbles his way over to his horse. “Guess we’re going to High Harbor,” he cheerfully breathes. “Ahh, mission accomplished. You like seafood, don’t you, Hiyori?”

 

Hiyori shoots Eichi a hard look, then beckons to Leo, watching him quiver, his hair ruffling in the wind. “Ride next to me, Majesty,” he says finally. “At least one monster in your party can keep his claws where they belong on the way to High Harbor.”

 

Shaken, unable to look Eichi in the eye, Leo does as he’s bidden, wondering if it would have been better to stay in the Capital after all. Above all else, the idea of going to High Harbor now, with Rei and Eichi showing such dark sides to themselves, makes his insides feel like jelly. Either of them around Izumi right now, around his _child_ right now…

 

“Come on,” he mutters, and kicks his horse into motion, thundering after Rei.

 

The pace that Rei keeps is brutally fast, but he doesn’t even think of that.

 

What he thinks of, instead, is every biting word Eichi had said. _Why don’t you let me have him, you don’t want him anyway; I suppose I did everything but fuck him when he was in the Academy; it’s only fair—you fucked my mate, let me fuck yours._

 

It plays on a loop in his brain, leaving him windswept and wild-eyed by the time they arrive on the outskirts of High Harbor—wait. When did they get _here_ exactly? This wasn’t the plan.

 

Rei tries to refocus, and fails when every single inhale makes his senses blur. The city teems with magic, a great deal of it being Shu’s, and even that right now seems enough to make his eyes cross.

 

So. He does the one logical thing he can think of.

 

A whistle into the darkness of the surrounding woods produces rustling after a surprisingly short amount of time, though the animal that emerges is far larger than the sounds it makes. The enormous silver wolf shakes leaves out of its hair as it stares up at Rei, ignoring the other men and, notably, their horses that are _not_ amused by something so strange popping out of the forest. “ _I thought you weren’t bringing him through here._ ”

 

“A change of plans. Go tell Kaoru to come out here…and be prepared to bind two archdemons.”

 

Koga stares at Rei a moment longer, then over to Eichi, who wiggles his fingers tiredly. Then, with a snort of breath, turns, disappearing back into the woods.

 

“Bindings are itchy,” Hiyori complains. “Why can’t I stay out here in the woods? I don’t like seafood and I’m not trying to fuck your mate. See? I’m good, I can behave.”

 

Leo just sits, silent and shaken, hood pulled up over his face to obscure his features.

 

Rei doesn’t spare Hiyori as much as a sideways glance. “You _are_ going to stay out in the woods. Properly bound, and away from the estate.”

 

“Rude,” Eichi sniffs, raking a hand back through his hair. “I could die from exposure, you know. My constitution’s delicate.”

 

“Wait, I have to stay in the woods _and_ be bound?” Hiyori shoots Eichi a glare. “This is all your fault. I hope my Drude eats that little pink thing you like so much.”

 

Hoofbeats strike the wooded path, and a moment later, Kaoru rides up, looking disheveled. His hair is mussed, shirt half-laced, and there’s still sleep in his eyes despite the sun’s high arc through the sky. In his hands he holds what looks like a necklace, a few clear vials, and the hilt of a sword. Behind him, slung over his horse’s back as if it’s riding pillion, is his ancient cloak. He inclines his head to Rei, as he so often has in mixed company. “Excellence,” he says formally, unsure of Hiyori or what’s known of the two of them.

 

“Don’t bother,” Rei dismissively says, though he tries not to look at Kaoru for too long. _Bind me, too, for fuck’s sake_ , he nearly pleads, but the words won’t come, not when he feels so damnably jittery that he might rip himself in two at any moment. “This is the other archdemon I was telling you about. He’s stupider, but still terrible. And you know Eichi.” _Unfortunately._

 

“Long time no see, Kaoru,” Eichi cheerfully greets, flicking a nasty little jab of magic in Hiyori’s direction. He deserves it, Tori is not to be threatened. “I thought I’d miss out on a chance to say hello. How’s your sister?”

 

Kaoru’s smile glitters. “Why don’t you ask her yourself? Or does it still sting when you lift that arm too high?”

 

“I don’t want to be bound by him,” Hiyori mutters. “At least get a real Paladin to do it, I can tell just by looking at him that he’s not a real one. He’s tainted.”

 

Kaoru twitches the necklace in his hand, beads sliding through his fingers. “I’m real enough to bind you for a few days. Rei, you—“ He pauses, his senses alerting him to the way Rei is holding himself, as if poised for battle. “You, ah, might want to take some time to yourself before you come in,” he finishes slowly, eyes wary.

 

“No, thank you,” Rei says, not meeting Kaoru’s eyes. “Do you know if Shu is alone right now?”

 

Eichi rolls his eyes, then turns his attention to Leo, deliberately nudging his horse a bit closer. “You’re not _actually_ going to let them do this to me, are you? I’ll behave, if you’re keeping me company.”

 

Reaching out to touch Leo’s arm is a mistake, apparently. The sharp, painful jolt of magic whipping through his hand makes Eichi hiss, teeth bared as he whirls on Rei. “I’ll fucking rip your head off, you shitty Cambion slut—you _will_ let me touch what’s mine, or I swear—“

 

“Can you maybe put him in the ocean, too?” Rei asks Kaoru. “And leave him there?”

 

Kaoru flicks his eyes over Rei and his traveling companions, then grabs Rei by the elbow, leading him to the side of the clearing. “Hey,” he says softly, eyes intent on Rei’s face. “Do you know what you’re doing right now? Because I promised I’d intervene if I ever saw you exerting that thrall on the king, and he’s so tangled up right now you’re playing his emotions like a violin.”

 

Rei spares a wary glance towards Eichi, unable to stop himself. “…I know,” he finally says, tense underneath Kaoru’s touch to the point that he’s nearly shaking. “I’ve been trying to calm down for half a day.” His eyes flick back to Kaoru, his pupils blown, his next inhale audibly tremulous. “I can’t. Kaoru, I can’t.”

 

Kaoru sucks in a breath, then lets it out slowly, ruffling his own bangs. “Will you let me bind you?” he asks carefully, not meeting Rei’s eyes. In Rei’s current state, that could be seen as an instinctive challenge, something Kaoru doesn’t want to start. “Just until you calm down. I’ll take care of the king, I won’t let anyone eat him.”

 

“I need to find Shu. If I’m…if I’m still like this after that, then—“ Rei wraps his arms around himself, digging his nails into his own arms with a shiver. “Then—yes. But let me find Shu first.”

 

From across the clearing, Leo lets out a soft gasp of pain, huddling farther under his cloak.

 

“Where’s a dragon when you need him?” Kaoru mutters, though he knows full well that adding Madara to the equation right now would hardly make it a better situation. “Rei. What do you think is going to happen to your _thrall_ when you get your hands on Shu while you’re sunk so deep into him? Hell, what if you hurt Shu? Like this, you _will_.”

 

“Don’t _talk about him_ ,” Rei snarls, half-lunging forward, fangs bared. He only _just_ stops himself from going further with that, trembling, visibly overwhelmed by his own instinct to tear into anyone that as much as mentions his mate’s name. “I’m going to break it,” he whispers, glancing down to his feet, watching the underbrush shift underneath his boots. “If you bind me. I need to feed on him, right now, and I can’t do it if you’re binding me.”

 

“Then give up your thrall on the king,” Kaoru says, outwardly unruffled, holding his ground against Rei’s sudden fit of anger. He knows full well how dangerous Rei can be, when roused past his usual endurance, and doesn’t doubt that Rei could cut him down with hardly a second of resistance. “I’ll protect him, or I’ll get the dragon to fold him in and protect him. I can’t do it forever,” he warns, “but I can keep him safe for half a day before my spells give out. Is that long enough?”

 

“If I do that—Eichi’s going to…” Rei sucks in a sharp breath, worrying at his lower lip until his fangs get in the way, and he tastes blood. “What’s worse,” he finally, quietly asks. “Keeping the thrall and hurting him like this, or dropping it for now and letting him feel the full rush of his broken bond again _and_ have to deal with Eichi trying to eat him?”

 

“I’m trying not to hit you right now,” Kaoru snaps, an edge of steel in his voice. “You called me to bind and protect. Trust me to do that. How long have you known me? And how many times have I told you I could do something and not been able to follow through, huh?”

 

“Except if I take that thrall off, Eichi is getting exactly what he fucking wants!”

 

The harsh snap is far rougher than Rei wants it to be, and Rei sucks in a sharp, unsteady breath, his eyes too-bright. “I can’t let him win. Kaoru—the things he said about Shu—the things I know he’d do if he was actually fed—“

 

He hears himself, dimly, as if it’s a sort of out-of-body experience, and Rei swallows hard, suddenly sick to his stomach. “I don’t even think I can take it off right now,” he whispers, his hands shaking where he grips his own arms. “But if you can block it somehow, I won’t interfere with it. I need to find Shu, is he in your estate?” He could track him down by scent alone, or through their bond, but the idea of removing that block on it right now and letting the proverbial floodgates be open is…terrifying.

 

“I can’t block it,” Kaoru says patiently, even though Rei _knows_ this, has known this for hundreds of years. Obviously, he’s not thinking straight. “Or I would have done it when I first found out what you’d done, yeah?” Fuck resonant bonds, actually. The shitty things did far more harm than good.

 

“Right. Right.” This conversation is becoming more difficult to maintain by the second. Rei shifts restlessly, suddenly hyperfocused on a trail of magic that he _knows_ belongs to Shu, and immediately, even breathing normally seems hard. “…You can figure it out, I need…to go.”

 

Kaoru stares at him for a long minute, unease flickering in his belly. Finally, he turns away, unable to look at Rei again. “We’re going to talk about this later,” he says quietly. “Go on.”

 

Rei barely spares a nod before he’s gone, immediately disappearing into the cover of the surrounding woods.

 

Then, he can’t stop himself from dissolving that wall slammed up between them, no longer letting it cut off and silence his bond. The weight of Shu’s magic settles throughout his mind again, and Rei feels himself grab at it, pulling, clinging. _Shu._

 

Startlingly, that particular telepathic whisper is almost loud enough for Mika to _hear it_. He blinks, head jerking up as he tries to make his eye focus on Shu across their room. “Um. Master? I’m not hearin’ things, am I?”

 

Shu sits frozen, trembling like a rabbit when the shadow of a hawk passes over. Then, he sucks in a breath, color rising in his cheeks as a hand rises to the laces at his neck. “Mika,” he says quietly, pupils dilated as his body starts to shiver, prickling with sudden all-consuming _need_ , “get out. Now.”

 

He stands, and moves to the bed as if in a dream state, fumbling with his boots, leaving them askew on the floor of his chamber. “My lord is coming,” he breathes, pulse quickening. “Get out of here. _Now_.”

 

Mika opens his mouth to protest, but he snaps it shut in short order after taking one, solid look at Shu. The magic around him is _strange_ , unsettled and stormy, and trying to reason through that seems like a fool’s errand.

 

No sooner does he scurry to his feet, heading to the door than does it open, and he only just barely ducks underneath Rei’s arm to escape. _That’s not normal, that’s just plain scary_.

 

The door clicks shut, and Rei strides across the room, cloak hitting the floor as he steps to the bed, hands grabbing for Shu without a single word spoken. His fingers aren’t careful when they rip open the collar of Shu’s shirt, and he’s even less careful about pulling him close, his own chest heaving, thumb dragging over the swell of Shu’s lower lip as he tries, _tries_ to get himself under control.

 

Rei fails, spectacularly.

 

He strikes, biting into the thudding pulse on Shu’s neck, shoving him down into the mattress, kicking those long legs apart as Rei climbs between them, long, clawed nails making swift work of stupid things like buttons and ties.

 

“It doesn’t matter.” Shu speaks to the tumult of thoughts flooding his mind, the emotions coursing through both of them, making his back arch before they even touch, setting him on fire, making him suddenly, acutely aware of how _empty_ he is.

 

He kicks off the shreds of his leggings, eyes gone dark, splaying his legs wide and drawing Rei to him, skilled, long-fingered hands tangling in Rei’s hair. “It doesn’t matter, don’t hold back,” he whispers again, baring himself for Rei’s eyes, his hands, for any part of him that he needs to _sate_.

 

The ecstasy of being _claimed_ starts to radiate through Shu even before it happens, his blood thrumming in eager rhythm. The bond has never been this strong, never been this active, and Shu isn’t entirely sure which thoughts are his own and which are Rei’s, all of them sending him into a flight of dreamy hunger. “I’m yours.”

 

Rei’s mouth seals over Shu’s, silencing him with a growl low in his throat, biting at those perfect lips when just kissing isn’t _quite_ enough. His fingers are rough even when they tear open his own lacings, blood-stained lips fastening to Shu’s throat, sucking, biting again, when freeing his cock, then being _inside_ becomes the only thing he can focus on.

 

Shu’s fingers are maddening as they pull at his hair, and Rei’s eyes unfocus again as he grabs and wrests those hands free, flipping Shu over, shoving him facedown into the bed. His cock throbs as he spits into his hand, dragging his palm down the length of himself. The tip drips, leaving a slick trail when he lets it slide against the cleft of Shu’s ass, just for a moment, before being inside—needing it, desperately, and if he doesn’t fuck Shu like he’s _his_ and only _his_ right then and there he’s going to go _mad_ —is his only priority, and shoving in is all he can think about.

 

His mouth clamps down onto the curve of Shu’s shoulder as he sheaths himself entirely with a low, rumbling snarl, clawed hands grabbing for Shu’s wrists to hold him down as Rei bears down over him, pinning him down, grinding in even when there’s resistance. _Mine, mine, mine, you’re mine, no one else can have you, you’re mine_.

 

Shu thinks, in that floating, ethereal way he can think anything at all when Rei is _in him_ , stealing all of his consciousness, that most people would be surprised, to see Rei like this. He’s always so composed, so calm, so gentle and teasing.

 

But Shu, who shares Rei’s soul, has always known this was inside of him. He’s always seen the tight, iron control that Rei uses to keep all of this repressed, to make sure no one ever sees this side of him. Rei might not like it, but Shu shivers when he’s taken and _claimed_ , feeling the answering cry of submission rise in his own throat.

 

When it finally escapes, it sounds like a scream, but it has nothing to do with the pain in his shoulder, nothing to do with the claws pricking his wrists, nothing to do with the startling, over-full way Rei bottoms out inside him and keeps _going_ , bringing the hot sting of tears to Shu’s eyes. All of the urgent sound ripped from his lips is acknowledgement, an agreement— _Yes, yes, I’m yours, use me until I fall apart, never let anyone else have me, mark me and brand me and keep me, I’m yours._

 

In his mouth, Shu’s blood tastes bright and sweet, numbing Rei’s mind even further when he ruts in, thinking of _nothing_ except the tight, hot squeeze of Shu around his cock. No, maybe that’s not true—he’s also thinking, or maybe just basking, in the response across their bond, Shu’s eager submission, the way Shu melts underneath him, doing nothing to fight him, doing everything to have _more_.

 

Verbal praise is unnecessary. Gripping Shu tighter, fucking him harder, the heavy, foggy swell of his magic twining around Shu and holding him still, eager to just have him to fuck and claim. Sweat drips from his hairline, and Rei doesn’t notice it, far too absorbed with his tongue swiping over Shu’s own sweat that beads between his shoulderblades, sucking on that pale skin and leaving mottled marks beyond when he lingers too long.

 

Shu hears someone sobbing into a pillow, and only realizes belatedly that it’s himself. He whimpers, shoving back as much as he can when he’s pinioned. It’s not much, just a pathetic twitch of his hips, but it’s crucial to what he wants—it’s not about moving with Rei, it’s just another way to tell Rei, _Yes. Yes, you can have me, you do have me, you’re in me and I’m yours and you’re welcome to keep reminding me, yes, yes, yes—_

 

After that, everything stops being words, and it’s just that heady, overwhelmed agreement and desire that Shu radiates over their bond. Everything is focused on the way Rei _takes_ him, in so deep his breath hitches with every slap of Rei’s hips, every drive of that thick cock so deep it makes him clench and moan.

 

A sudden starburst of jealousy, hot as the surface of the sun, melts through Shu, flashing across the bond, because it’s not fair, Izumi doesn’t have _this_ , why should he get to be _bred_ when Shu has been so good, when Shu loves being full so much, when Rei is the best provider, best mate, best _dominant_ he could ask for?

 

A breathless growl escapes Rei’s throat, and he yanks Shu back, an arm slung around is waist pulling him back harder onto his cock. It’s slicker when he fucks in now, courtesy of his dripping cock buried deep inside, and that spark of jealousy that simmers through their bond is slapped down, shoved aside, all in favor of reminding Shu that _that doesn’t matter, I’m breeding you now, nothing else matters so long as I’m in you._

 

Rei bites again, holding, not drinking, not feeding, just _needing_ to grab onto Shu and hold him still when he ruts in with each hard thrust, and it’s with a breathy, mindless grunt that he comes, spilling deep inside and thrusting through that still, not softening at all.

 

Everything washes away, obliterated by the tidal wave of pleasure in being _owned_.

 

Shu tastes the cotton of the pillowcase, feels the dig of his toes into the bed, but nothing matters except Rei’s teeth and cock, both of them _in him_ , holding him still, keeping him _possessed_. He hears himself hiccuping softly, feeling bruised all over like a ripe peach that’s been dropped, and simply melting into the bed, blacking out from consciousness.

 

And just like that, that blinding wave of senseless need is gone, and with it, every fiber of tension that’s held Rei hostage for half a day. He exhales a long, shaky breath out into Shu’s hair, and collapses, folded up around him, all four limbs latched tightly to Shu’s body.

 

It’s a solid _hour_ before he rouses, and even then, it’s only because something feels…off. Rei’s eyes crack open, lids feeling far too heavy, and it’s through his lashes that he sees the room more or less…moving.

 

_Oops._

 

His magic has been leaking since Eichi had riled him, but this is far worse. The walls move, more or less, with the stretch of vines growing straight up them and onto the ceiling, and the floor itself is a strange, tentacle-like mix of rapidly growing flora. “Shu,” Rei manages to croak out, nosing into the back of Shu’s neck. “Shu. Help.” There’s no way in _hell_ he can summon the serenity of mind to pull himself back in, not right now.

 

Shu stirs with a little whimper, squeezing his eyes shut. “Nn, do me again, that’s fine, but I can’t get up now…”

 

A little shiver runs down Rei’s spine. “You don’t need to get up,” he murmurs, nuzzling up behind his ear, his fingers sliding down over the jut of his hip before gently curling there, squeezing. “Just make sure my magic doesn’t get worse. It’s going…places.”

 

The words are enough, _barely_ , to rouse Shu from his semi-catatonic state. Finally, his eyes blink open, and he stares at the walls. “Oh.”

 

Then he reaches up, brushing a fingertip to Rei’s temple, gathering his thoughts and his magic from somnolence to narrow the wild flood of Rei’s magic down to a manageable trickle, just enough to maintain all of the far-reaching spells Rei is maintaining at every given time. “So many worries, my love,” he whispers, easing some of the pain, soothing it away with a cooling touch. “Lay them on me. Let me help.”

 

Rei sags underneath that touch, relieved and guilty all at once. “I’ve already laid too much upon you, I’m certain of that,” he mumbles, curling his arms around Shu to hold him close, but treating him very much as if he’s made of spun glass all the same, unsure exactly of what he bruised or bit or scratched in his disgusting frenzy. “I’m so, so sorry. Are you all right?”

 

Shu arches slowly, rolling one foot at the ankle, and lets out a little sigh. “It’s fine. We won’t let it be that long again, though, hmm? I’ll forgive you for _any_ length of absence as long as you make up for it like _that_.”

 

“It wasn’t even that, it…” Rei trails off, distracted by the way Shu moves, and he huffs out a hot breath, burying his face down into Shu’s hair to just _inhale_ , long and deep. “Fuck, you do smell like roses right now,” he mutters. “It was lilac before. Well, both are good.”

 

“I don’t have my usual products,” Shu says lightly, amused as he twirls a strand of Rei’s hair around his finger. “I’ve had to make do with the local offerings. It doesn’t displease you?”

 

“Nothing you do could ever displease me,” comes Rei’s muffled response from where he keeps his face firmly buried into Shu’s hair. “Tell me you don’t hate this. Please.”

 

Shu blinks slowly. “Am I still asleep? Rei. You can _feel_ how I feel. You know I love this.”

 

“I mean…outside of some biological or magical compulsion—would you still…” Rei exhales a long, shaky breath. “Would you still want this? Me?”

 

Shu goes very still, eyes tracing over Rei’s face, expression unreadable. Then, finally, he draws in a shaky breath. “Is that what you’re asking?” he asks quietly. “Or are you telling me that you want to be free of me, if I can find a way?”

 

“No!” Rei abruptly pushes himself up onto an elbow, hair spilling forward and over Shu. “That’s _not_ what I’m saying. Gods, no, did it really come off that way? Shu—you should want to be free of _me_. I showed up out of the blue and ate you alive.” Rei grimaces, looking away. “It’s fucking embarrassing, that I treated you like that—that I had no control over it.”

 

Shu doesn’t bother sitting up, only closes his eyes, giving Rei’s shoulder a little shove. “Rei. I’m not a child. I don’t need to be protected from my big bad lover. You are the first, the only person who has ever understood me on a fundamental level. You are intelligent, handsome, talented, and very, very aesthetically pleasing. Your current habit of apologizing for mind-blowing sex that we both needed is confusing, but hardly a deal-breaker.”

 

He flushes, then opens his eyes, not meeting Rei’s gaze. “If anything, the things you know about me…the ones I don’t talk about. I’d think you’d be the one to want to leave, you’re the one I stole from a husband.”

 

Rei pauses, opens his mouth, then shuts it, and draws in a slow breath through his nose. “You needed it, too,” he echoes, as if clarifying. “Ah—forgive me, I know it sounds like I’m backtracking, but—this occasion wasn’t…normal. Not for me. It pulled up…the kind of demon instincts that I am…very much not fond of.”

 

“You think I don’t know about them?” Shu asks, startled. “You think they’re hidden from _me_? Rei. I know what you are. It’s part of why I love you.”

 

“I—“ Rei’s face crumples, and he leans back, glancing aside. “I was really hoping I was doing a better job of hiding it,” he admits. “Even from you.”

 

“But why should you?” Shu asks, finally hauling himself up to sit, firmly pressing Rei’s head down into his lap where he can stroke it. “Isn’t that why we have resonant bonds? So the most powerful, the most dangerous people in the world can know that there’s someone who sees all of their worst parts and loves them for them? My love, my lord, I would kiss every dark secret you have, bloody my lips on your wounds, and lick them clean.”

 

“Even when I can’t keep my promises to you and keep you safe?” Rei mutters, burying his face into one of Shu’s thighs. “He’s back.”

 

Even if he already knows that, even if he’s known for months, even if he’s been _preparing_ himself, Shu still feels a jumpy thread of tension tie up his loose, languorous muscles, before he can force it away. “I knew he would,” he says, trying to keep his tone light. “You knew he would, that’s why you thralled the king. Face it with me, love. Stop trying to protect me when it only destroys you.”

 

Rei swallows audibly, curling up slowly onto his side, knees drawing up towards his chest. “I’m _not_ letting him come near you,” he says, the words firm no matter how his actual voice wavers. “He’s supposed to be underneath the king’s command, and the king wants him to go North and close the gate there, but I’d sooner send him back to the depths and leave it pouring open than have him anywhere near you.”

 

He sucks in a sharp breath, and sits up abruptly, staring at Shu through the disheveled fall of his hair. “Everyone keeps telling me how much this bond has changed me for the worse,” he confesses, lower lip trembling until he bites it. “But you barely knew me before we were bonded, so you wouldn’t know the difference. Do you think I’m so terrible now?”

 

Shu’s eyes blaze. “Who told you that?” he demands. “I’ll kill them. How dare they? Do you think I would be in love with someone who is not the absolute pinnace of perfection? How does becoming more complex, more emotional, more loving, change someone for the worse? Is it Eichi? You’re not _listening_ to him, are you? After everything you’ve told me?”

 

“I…I mean, he certainly didn’t have anything nice to say,” Rei hesitantly says, holding up his hands in immediate surrender. “But…between Keito, and…even Kaoru, he hasn’t _said_ anything, necessarily, but the way he looks at me…” He trails off, wavering visibly as he looks away. “I don’t think I’m perfect, but it does hurt, to know people think I’m…less capable of humanity now, somehow. I suppose I proved them right, barging in here like I did, but…”

 

Shu sniffs, and starts stroking Rei’s hair again, even if Rei isn’t being good and letting him do it horizontally. “You were hiding more of your true nature before, perhaps. If they only loved the part of you that was a lie, they didn’t really love you.” He pauses, then adds slowly, “That wasn’t supposed to sound…hmm. You’re speaking to someone with one friend, so.”

 

“No—no, I understand what you’re saying.” Rei slowly flops down again, resting his head back into Shu’s lap. “I think Kaoru is just worried about me,” he quietly says. “But it still hurts, to see that kind of expression on his face. And Keito…I know you don’t like him, I know that, but—he pointed out a few things, and they aren’t…wrong.” He hesitates. “Like how I never wanted to be Emperor, and—I’d like to say it’s because I’m not good at it, but it’s only partially that. I’m too worried about becoming Eichi to do anything properly. I don’t _want_ to throw my weight around with a bunch of wizards that are already terrified. I don’t want…to be involved in any of this, actually.”

 

“My love,” Shu says gently, fingers tangled, then easing their way through, leaving Rei’s hair glossy and somehow tangle-free after a pass of his fingers, “I think it might be time we left the Academy in other, more capable hands. I, you see, am not a teacher. Rather, I’m an excellent teacher, the best, but I need a perfect student, and none of them so far have been. And you…I don’t think you like teaching at all. And neither of us like administrative duties. I think…you’re unhappy. You were always meant to be a free agent.”

 

He thins his lips, pressing them together. “And I thank you, for waiting until Mika was recovered. I know you endured it to give me something solid, a place to be with him in utter safety.”

 

“I’d just like to be a gardener, you know,” Rei wearily says, turning his face into the soft skin of Shu’s thigh. “I can’t step down until all of this is cleared up. I refuse to hand over the Academy in the midst of utter, disastrous turmoil. That being said, I…I’m glad, to hear you say all of that,” he quietly says. “I already have a successor in mind, and…even if I didn’t, this can’t continue. The Shadowlands are falling apart without me, and I’m afraid that my absence is a large part of why these Sorrow’s Gates happened in the first place. I can’t let that happen again. I can rule over demons just fine, it seems, but humans…”

 

Shu lets out a breath, frowning slightly. “Will they…I mean, I don’t expect them to accept either of us there, but…will it be more difficult for him there, than it is here? I just want to know what to expect.”

 

Rei snorts out a disbelieving laugh at that. “Shu—you don’t have to live there. I’d never ask that of you or Mika. An estate on the edge, up in the Hinterlands perhaps, but…”

 

Shu stares at him. “And let you go all alone into the Shadowlands, without support? Hmph. After twenty years, perhaps, if everything in the Shadowlands is quiet and peaceful, I’ll consider it. As long as Mika will be safe, of course.”

 

Rei blinks up at him, then just laughs, throwing an arm over his face. “Gods. Then you’d be a real Demon Queen, wouldn’t you? Do you really want that? I’d constantly have to defend you as my possession, you know. After awhile, surely that would grate on your nerves.”

 

Shu lifts his chin. “You might be surprised. It isn’t against the law of the land for me to defend myself, I assume?”

 

“Of course not, but…most challenges would come through me, if it was about you. For a couple of reasons—as my mate, you’re definitely…something to be fought over, but also, because of your blood…quite a few demons would want to feed upon you. Sorry, not meaning to go into Shadowlands politics,” Rei sighs, dropping his arm. “I’ve thought about this a lot.”

 

“You’re saying,” Shu says, careful and deliberate, “that I would be seen not as a potential threat or even an individual, but as a possession over which to be fought. Or possibly, a tasty food item that thinks itself sentient.”

 

“Depending on the demon trying to challenge me…yes?”

 

“And would that continue to be the case if I defeated several of the demons who attempted to feast upon my deliciousness?”

 

“They’d see it as more of a challenge, and be highly amused.”

 

“And if I continued to defeat increasingly higher-ranked and more powerful demons? Publicly?”

 

“You’re still my mate, so you’re a very fancy prize in their eyes.” Rei sighs, shrugging helplessly. “Also, you _are_ delicious.”

 

Shu sighs. “Well, if there’s nothing for it, there’s nothing for it. Will it cause you more problems if I come with you? If so, I’ll stay in the Hinterlands, but I’d rather be with you, if it’s all the same.”

 

“I’d rather you be with me,” Rei quietly says, reaching up a hand to run his thumb against Shu’s cheek. “Any ‘problems’ are not my concern. And honestly…I think Mika will love the Shadowlands,” he wryly admits. “His magic will probably be calmer there. Aberrant magic usually is.”

 

“And,” Shu adds, “not for nothing, I doubt they’ll discriminate against him for the nature of his magic.”

 

“Mmnnn…depends on the demon,” Rei hedges. “But it’s still probably better than here.” His fingers linger against Shu’s neck, absently running over one of the bite marks he left behind. “One day, I’ll remember that you’re so much more logical than anyone else thinks you are.”

 

Shu shivers at the touch, letting his thighs rub together, feeling the empty ache of where Rei had been inside of him. “I think that’s as it should be. Just remember that you, my love, are more good-hearted than anyone thinks you are.”

 

“If you keep thinking that, I’ll at least feel obligated to make it be true,” Rei softly says, pushing himself up again with a little sigh. “That being said, I’m afraid I made a public fool of myself a few hours ago. I need to go resolve that.”

 

Shu stretches luxuriously, arms up above his head. “If you get worked up and need to come do that again, at least warn me first. I’ll make sure to be…” His lashes dip. “Ready.”

 

“Don’t tell me that, or I’ll never leave,” Rei huffs, flopping directly into Shu’s chest and pressing him back down into the bed to kiss him soundly. “I love you,” he firmly says. “Everyone keeps trying to tell me that I don’t, but that’s bullshit.”

 

“Send them to me,” Shu suggests, licking his lips as if some trace of Rei still lingers on them. “I’ll set them to rights. And I, you, my lord.”

 

Rei forces himself to sit up, lest Shu simply existing makes him linger even more. His clothes are…in a number of places, most of which are interesting, and collecting them takes a moment before he dresses, opens the door, and—hmm.

 

“…Mika,” Rei gently greets the little ball of hair and limbs on the floor, which only ends up spooking him, despite how careful he tries to be. “I’m sorry, were you waiting this whole time?”

 

“Um—kinda.” Mika looks nervously up at him, then around him. “Is it…all right if I go in now?”

 

“By all means.”

 

Mika scuttles inside, eager to take to the task of _Shu_ , and Rei pulls the door shut, takes a quick breath, and makes his way straight down the hall.

 

There’s not a single ounce of an archdemon’s presence within the estate, so that’s a relief. That being said, his main concern is less with how Eichi and Hiyori are being handled—because it’s Kaoru, so it _will_ be handled—and more with Kaoru himself. He hesitates outside of the bedroom door before knocking once, rocking back onto his heels, trying not to look quite so ready to hit the ground in a full apology.

 

After a long minute, Kaoru opens the door. His room is mostly the same as when Rei had last left, except for the small form of a young man with very red hair, curled into the fetal position in the corner, wrapped up in an ancient white cloak. “He’s sleeping,” Kaoru says quietly, leaning on the doorframe, his face impassive. “If this is going to be loud, just come back in the morning, yeah? He deserves a good night’s sleep for once.”

 

“It’s not going to be loud.” Rei exhales, bowing his head. “But I do want to speak to you, if you don’t mind.”

 

Kaoru gives Leo a long look, then nods, opening the door wider. “Sure. Just keep your voice down, or I’ll kick you out.”

 

Rei nods, stepping inside and immediately feeling the sense of unease that comes to demons when stepping into a heavily warded room. He grimaces, but says nothing about it. “I wanted to apologize,” he softly says. “For earlier. And explain myself, if possible, but…mostly, apologize.”

 

Kaoru waves a hand, settling down on the lounge chair farthest away from where Leo’s curled up. “Honestly, you don’t need to apologize to me. I’m not upset with you. But you’ll need to say something to the king, if you want to keep him whole.”

 

“I’m going to say something to him, but for now I’m letting him rest.” Rei tries not to start pacing. “I _do_ need to apologize to you, though. I saw the look on your face, you think I’ve really lost it.”

 

Kaoru crosses his legs, watching Rei warily. “I think you let someone push you too far,” he says slowly. “And I think you let yourself get way, way over the line. And honestly, it’s fine, but it’s hard for me to talk to you when you get like that. I’d rather not.”

 

“Do you think I’m like that right now, and that’s why you’re looking at me like I’m going to eat you?”

 

Kaoru narrows his eyes. “You’re radiating enough nervous energy to power all of my lamps. And you nearly left the king catatonic, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to save his mind.”

 

“I’m only nervous because I’m fairly certain you want to seal me up and toss me into the depths.” Rei chews on his lower lip, watching Kaoru intently. “I did let Eichi push me too far. I know that. But if you had heard the things he was saying—if he was saying them about you, I would’ve been the same way. There’s only so much I can stand from him.”

 

“But then why did you travel with him?” Kaoru presses, running a hand back through his hair. “Why didn’t you gag him? Why didn’t you ride separately, or make your party bigger, or stuff beeswax in your ears? You knew he was going to try something, and you just…let it happened. I think you wanted an excuse to show down with him fairly, like you never got to. Is that it?”

 

“Honestly? I didn’t think he’d dig into me like that, with Leo traveling with us.” Rei shakes his head, fiddling with a torn edge of his cloak, courtesy of the scuffle he’d gotten into just yesterday with the archdemon in question. “For some reason…I actually thought he _would_ behave himself. I suppose the logic of being on your best behavior around the people you love is foreign to archdemons after all.” Rei exhales a frustrated breath. “So no, Kaoru, I didn’t want an excuse. I hate being like that, you _know_ that. And I _tried_ ignoring him, but I’m sorry, I can’t sit there and listen to him talk about raping and torturing my mate without doing something to shut him up.”

 

“But Eichi isn’t the one I had to rescue from being nearly braindead,” Kaoru says softly. “And if you want me to let you off the hook for what you did to the king, then you really have changed. Because I didn’t think you’d ever make excuses about something like that.”

 

“I’m not asking you to let me off the hook for that, nor am I making excuses for that,” Rei lowly says. “I’m telling you what happened. I didn’t realize my magic had slipped that much. I didn’t know, and that’s my mistake, I completely agree, and it’s inexcusable. But you’re not telling me what I should be doing to fix it—I’ll get on my hands and knees and apologize to him, but what else do you want me to do?”

 

Kaoru shrugs, spreading his hands wide. “I’m just saying,” he says slowly, not meeting Rei’s eyes, “that you said the thrall was to keep Eichi from coming back, and you’d never use it at all. Then Eichi came back. But Leo is still thralled. And you’re using it, even though I warned you that it would be easy to do by accident. And he’s _still_ thralled. He tells me that now you’re doing it to protect him from Eichi. So I just want to know what the plan is, because your answer keeps changing, and I’m not going to let you keep ripping out his soul whenever you’re upset that Eichi said mean things.”

 

His eyes are sad, but determined. “I can’t. If I let that kind of thing go on…I really won’t be a paladin anymore, and I’ll be no more help to anyone. I’ll be stripped of everything, and they’d be right to do it.”

 

“My answer doesn’t keep changing, _nothing_ has been changing.” Frustration almost makes him raise his voice over the low, hushed tone he’s kept himself to, and Rei stamps it down desperately. “I _am_ trying to protect him. If that thrall wasn’t there, Eichi would’ve fed on him ten times over by now. And beyond that, without that thrall, Leo would have to feel that broken bond of his loud and clear, and it nearly killed him before, Kaoru. You didn’t know him then, you didn’t see that.”

 

“Do you want me to wake him up?” Kaoru asks mildly, unflinching in front of Rei’s argument. “Would you like to see what you did to him? I think I was in time to save his mind, but I can’t be sure. If your goal is to protect him, I refuse to think there isn’t a better way. Because this isn’t working. Isn’t Shu better at seals than you are?”

 

“A _seal_ isn’t capable of masking a broken bond.” _And that’s assuming I’d let Shu anywhere near something Eichi was part of._ Rei’s gaze flicks away, across the room to Leo, then back again. “Even if I did fuck up here—and I didn’t, I can tell—you’re still not listening to me.” His voice wavers before he can stop it. “You’re refusing to at this point.”

 

Kaoru frowns, face falling at the sound of Rei’s voice. “I’m not refusing anything. I’m just not letting you get away with this without telling me what’s going to happen next time. I know, I know you think you were in the right, you _always_ think you’re in the right. But this is the first time I don’t agree with you.”

 

“I already _agreed_ with _you_ that I screwed up. But there’s no good answer to this, Kaoru! Leaving that thrall on is dangerous, yes, but if I take it off—that could easily be worse. I don’t know if it is, but it could be, and I personally think it is!”

 

Kaoru breathes in deeply, trying to react intelligently and not just with emotion. He looks hard at Rei, then over at Leo, then back at Rei. “All right,” he says, huffing out a breath, raking his hand back through his hair. “All right. I’m not trying to punish you, fuck. Maybe you’re right, and there’s no better answer than a thrall. I can…I can let it keep going a little longer. But I won’t let him ride out with you and Eichi if you don’t have a way to stop yourself from doing this again. Fair?”

 

Rei nods, still not looking at Kaoru as he takes a step back, trying not to itch underneath the weight of the wards in the room. “You don’t trust me at all, do you.”

 

“That’s not fair.” Kaoru’s words are sharp, but his eyes are hurt. “That’s _not_ fair, you know it’s not. You just almost ripped that poor kid’s brain out through his ears, I’m just—“

 

He swallows, going suddenly quiet, and looks down at the ground, face bloodless. “You’ve done things, recently,” he says in a voice so low it’s almost a whisper. “The man I know, the man I trust, wouldn’t. So I said, well, he must know what he’s doing. But now I can’t tell if you’re still the same person and you’re in way over your head and can’t admit it, or if something changed that I don’t know about, and I’m chasing someone who doesn’t exist.”

 

“What? _What_ have I done?” Rei wetly asks. “Sent out spies to keep track of even my friends? Fine, I’ve done that for years. Kept half a dozen magical crisis events under wraps to keep the public from panicking? You’ve _helped_ me do that. I took the king under my thrall, that’s _all_. Fine, I accept the ramifications of that, I do. But _no one else_ was helping him. No one else could—why is Shu the only person that can _understand_ that? I’ve never, _ever_ used it to influence his decisions, I’ve even deliberately stayed away until I couldn’t anymore. You’re not even arguing that you don’t trust me, which says it all.”

 

Rei turns away, and in a frustrated, impulsive pluck, unravels the entire construct of magic surrounding Leo, letting it collapse to the floor in a mess of deep red, glowing netting before it fades into nonexistence altogether. “There. Happy? Now it’s your problem, _you_ figure out how to keep him from going mad, and how to keep the single most powerful Archdemon from eating him whole.” He whirls on his heel, heading immediately for the door to yank it open. _Shu, pack your things, I’m done._

 

Kaoru’s hand is strong when he grabs Rei’s shoulder, spinning him around and slamming him back into the door. “ _No_ ,” he snarls, jaw set, “you don’t get to walk out like this. You— _fuck_ you, I stood up for you when you did it, even though—did you _ever think_ , did you stop to consider even for a _second_ ,” he asks, pain in his voice, “what it would mean to me, personally, to see you thrall someone? You’ve known for over a century that that is the _one magic_ that my entire line was _created_ to stop? As far as I can see, you didn’t think of me at all when you did it! You don’t think of me at all anymore! Is it because you take me for granted? Because I’ll always be here, always love you, and you know that? Or because you d-don’t—“

 

His voice breaks off, and he pulls back as if Rei’s shoulder burns his hand, stalking across the room to stand on the balcony, shoulders trembling, facing away from Rei.

 

“…Kaoru—“

 

Rei sags back against the door for a moment, staring up at the ceiling before he pushes himself up, and slowly walks after him. “You’re an idiot,” he softly says, lingering in the balcony doorway, “if you think I didn’t think of you when I cast that thing. That’s why I waited so long to do it, until I didn’t see another choice. I didn’t _plan_ it. I just did it, because I wanted to help him.” He exhales a long breath, his shoulders sagging. “You’re a big, big idiot if you think I don’t think of you _all the time._ But it’s hard for me to reach out to you, and to share things with you, when you immediately turn your nose up and put on that holier-than-thou tone of voice. I get it, you’re literally holier than me, but if you think I’ve been pulling away and being secretive, it’s because I think you’re immediately going to shoot me down, or offer to throw yourself on a funeral pyre instead. Maybe I have altered some of my methods, but we’ve been at war. We still are. I don’t know what else to do. Your life being forfeit isn’t an option.”

 

Kaoru sucks in a long breath, finally turning to face Rei. His eyes are red; he’s always been an ugly crier. “I thought we’d gotten past hurting each other a long time ago,” he says, wry and a little wistful. “Rei. I was done being a paladin. I wanted to give it up. But lately, you’ve been asking for those skills of mine more and more, you know? And I can’t….”

 

He rakes his hand back through his hair, frustrated with his own inability to understand. “I don’t mean for it to be between us. The thing with what I can do is, it’s not like magic. It doesn’t come from the same place. You get that, right? I know that you wizards, you can use your own life energy to cast a spell, or you can use the energy of the world around, right? Do I have that right?”

 

“We’re still pretty good at making each other cry, I guess,” Rei quietly says, wavering a moment longer before stepping forward, tentatively reaching out to slide his arms around Kaoru’s waist and tug him forward. “Mm. Yeah. You’ve got it right.”

 

Kaoru melts into Rei’s arms like he’d been waiting to do it for a year, head resting on Rei’s shoulder as if it belongs there. “Mine comes from belief,” he says softly, against the fabric of Rei’s shirt. “It can only come from belief. If I don’t believe in a spell, it doesn’t work. If I don’t believe in the mission of a paladin, if I don’t believe that stopping a demon from committing sins on a human soul is the blackest deed imaginable, nothing I do will work. So if I want it to work…I have to let those thoughts in. I have to believe them, every time. And every time…it gets a little easier. It becomes a little more natural. That’s why I never did it when we first met, I know it’s fucking brainwashing.”

 

“Why didn’t you _tell_ me that? Because I’m a demon and you were still trying to help me, right, don’t answer that, I’m following,” Rei exhales, linking his arms together around Kaoru’s back, squeezing him gently. “Kaoru. If I knew that, I would have never asked any of this of you. My paladin knowledge…well, it’s patchy, at best, because the lore is so protected, and I didn’t want to pry.” He tips his head to the side, lightly knocking his head against Kaoru’s. “You can stop. You don’t have to do it anymore. I just like it when you have a sword and cut things up.”

 

Kaoru’s smile is a little bitter. “I thought I was better than it. Really. I thought I could use it again and not get sucked in. I thought I was stronger than they were, do you have any idea how many paladins start out like me, all rebellious and cocky, and wind up as hidebound as my grandfather? It’s…a lot of them. I really didn’t want you to have to worry about it, I thought…heh. I guess we’re both crappy at knowing whether we’re in control these days.”

 

“I really, really don’t want you to become your grandfather. He still sends letters to the Shadowlands, you know? There’s a case of them in my house, all threats, weird ones, Ritsu keeps them to read dramatically when he’s drunk.” Rei leans back, taking Kaoru’s face in his hands. “Just stop and be hot with a sword instead. I don’t need you to even do that, but I still like it. All right?”

 

“…Yeah.” Kaoru sucks in a breath, then exhales slowly, letting his eyes close. “I’m sorry. I _was_ doubting you. Forgive me.”

 

“Already done. To be fair, I was doubting myself; that was no good,” Rei says with a shiver, pressing his lips to Kaoru’s forehead. “Scary. I’ve never lost my temper like that before.”

 

Kaoru smiles. “Hey, and we were worried that we’d run out of new things to try eventually. Now we’ve tried making asses of ourselves and getting so angry we almost ripped each other apart.”

 

“I didn’t try to tear _you_ apart,” Rei whines, slinging his arms back around Kaoru’s hips. “I never would. I just hate arguing with you, _so_ much. Fuck,” he bitterly realizes. “Now I have to put that thrall _back_.”

 

Kaoru grimaces. “I mean, if we’re talking about not giving people the benefit of the doubt…maybe I could talk to Eichi. Persuade him to keep his damn teeth in his mouth. Metaphorically speaking, of course.”

 

Rei’s lips purse as he bites back an immediate rejection of that proposal. “…I definitely don’t want him to feed on Leo, but I’m honestly more concerned about Leo feeling that broken bond now,” he admits. “That was the original reason why I wanted to put a thrall in place; it’s the only thing all-encompassing enough to muffle something that powerful. But…I can think on that a little bit more. Eichi _might_ listen to you, but you’re going to have to trade with him if you want him to keep his word.”

 

“Mm.” Kaoru frowns, staring at Leo’s slumbering form. “Do you have any idea what happens, long-term, if someone that powerful has a bond snapped over the long-term? If both of them are alive? I wouldn’t be too surprised if it started to regrow, eventually.”

 

“I have no idea,” Rei confesses, chewing on his lower lip. “I never did that much research into resonant bonds; those were Eichi’s obsession, not mine. I suppose we could ask him… _you_ could ask him,” he corrects, grimacing. “I’m worried about even looking at him right now. I know, I’m proving your concerns valid, but I’m just trying to be cautious.”

 

Kaoru shrugs. “I’m just saying. Maybe there’s a reason he’s obsessed with them. Maybe it’s one of those weird Sight magics, didn’t you tell me about those? Where a young wizard will get obsessed with a random magic and only find out later in life it was some sort of…what’d you call it, temporal morphism? Like they learned it _because_ their magic went back in time and warned their younger self to do it or something?”

 

“That would be a lovely explanation for it, if he isn’t just a psychopath bent on owning people,” Rei mutters, raking a hand back through his hair. “He’s so old, there’s no telling. Ah, I hate this. I really hate giving him what he wants.”

 

“Let me talk to him,” Kaoru repeats, reaching out to brush Rei’s hair back from his face. “We have a pretty decent working relationship, as far as we can. Maybe I can get some info out of him. If I can’t get any concessions, I’ll ask you to…” He can’t quite say the words, and his mouth twists. “Sorry. You know. I’ll get the taste of white magic out of my mouth soon.”

 

“I hate that I think you acting like a priest is sort of adorable,” Rei sighs, nudging into Kaoru’s hand like a cat seeking affection. “Just…don’t trade anything that you really won’t miss. His favorite foods are fae breeds and paladins, for fuck’s sake. Please, please, just…don’t, if you can help it.”

 

“Ah, you know me, I’m barely a real Paladin,” Kaoru says with false cheer, already running through a mental list of things he’d be prepared to barter, if Eichi’s offers were good enough. “Say…Rei. Have you ever, ever seen an archdemon this powerful have a resonant bond before? Because I haven’t, no way.”

 

“Never,” Rei quietly says, shivering a little as he thinks about it. “It’s highly disturbing to me, actually.”

 

Kaoru nods slowly. “I bet, you know…he’s probably pretty disturbed, too.” He gestures to Leo with one hand. “This isn’t going to get any easier for waiting. You want to guard the king in case he wakes up and tries to go crawling off to his bonded?”

 

“He does always seem vaguely confused by his desire to not be a total asshole around the king,” Rei dryly says, and then nods, tugging his cloak around himself a bit more. “I’ll stay here, and see if I can soothe off some of my lingering magic from him. Oh—the Sena heir is still here, isn’t he? I’m assuming he hasn’t been told about Leo being here yet…maybe let’s wait on that, until he wakes up and is feeling better.”

 

“Ah…you don’t think it might be better to put them together? He might be happy to see how round she’s getting.”

 

“When he wakes up,” Rei firmly says, and adds, very honestly, “I don’t want to be attacked by an angry, pregnant ice drake.”

 

“You’ll die,” Kaoru says bluntly. “She’s…uh…yeah. Kind of…on the warpath lately. Very lethal. Kind of hot.”

 

“I see.” Rei’s lips twitch, amused. “Did you fuck him? Sounds like your kind of woman.”

 

“Rei! Do I look like the kind of man who’d fuck a married, pregnant woman?” Kaoru’s mouth curves up at one corner. “I mean, I _would_ have, but she’s pretty scared that she’s crazy fertile and didn’t want to pop out a blond twin. We messed around under that, though.”

 

“Mmm…some women have all the luck, I want to have your blond paladin twins,” Rei sighs, leaning in to steal a kiss from Kaoru’s mouth. “You absolutely look like the kind of man that would be fucking married, pregnant women, by the way. It’s terrible.”

 

“Terrible,” Kaoru agrees, leaning in to brush another couple of kisses to Rei’s eyelids, “and true. I love fucking married, pregnant women whose husbands are horrified that they don’t look the same, they’re always so sweet and grateful. And horny.”

 

“Stop it. For some reason, that’s making _me_ horny,” Rei grouses, folding his arms. “I know, breathing makes me horny, but that’s not the point. Go, or the king’s going to wake up to an eyeful instead of anything productive.”

 

Of course, just that much teasing makes Kaoru groan and want to stay, but he pulls back, tearing himself away. “Fine. Just don’t…do anything to the king while I’m gone.”

 

And with that, he forces himself out of the room, padding down on bare feet to the room where he’d nicely asked Eichi to sit and wait. “Yo,” he calls through the door, knocking quietly. “You awake?”

 

The stare that swivels in Kaoru’s direction glows bright blue in the unlit room, pupils slitted before Eichi blinks twice, and the effect disappears. “It’s impossible to be anything but here,” he says. “There’s almost too much magic around.”

 

Kaoru grimaces, slipping into the room to lean back on the closed door. “Yeah. It’s kind of overwhelming. So, what’s it like being dead?”

 

“Very dark,” Eichi says, leaning forward in his chair to plop his chin down into one hand. “And cold. You smell like Leo. What do you want?” 

 

Kaoru grins. “I think I’m here to sell you the king. What are you offering?”

 

Eichi’s eyes narrow at that, suddenly too-focused on Kaoru. His fingers drum against his own cheek in a slow, rhythmic tap. “Define ‘selling.’”

 

“I mean,” Kaoru says carefully, watching his words with the delicate care of watching his steps around a lava flow, “that as a paladin of the White Holy Order, I’m not interested in having a thrall continue. So I’m shopping for another solution for the king’s well-being.”

 

“There’s nothing about that thrall that contributes to his well-being. You know that, obviously.” Eichi’s head cocks, almost reptilian in movement. “If it’s just his well-being that you’re concerned about, then give him back to me. You’re an idiot if you think I’d harm him.”

 

“I don’t make it a habit to hand humans over to demons,” Kaoru drawls. “No matter their honeyed words. What do you have as a guarantor of your good behavior? How do I know you won’t just eat him?”

 

“He’s my _mate_.” Eichi can hear himself already being less subtle than he should be for results, but he can’t help it. He’s still on edge from Rei, decidedly unhappy about being able to _feel_ all of the magic around but being unable to feed, and more and more restless every minute Leo isn’t in his line of sight. “He’s the only thing still binding me to this world. If he’s slurped up, I’m gone. Shouldn’t that be enough?”

 

Kaoru shrugs. “If it’s all true. But I don’t know that it is. You’re a demon, demons lie. Figure out a way to prove to me he’ll be safe.”

 

Eichi stares back at him for a long moment, then leans back, folding his hands into his lap. “Are you having a lover’s spat with Rei?” he mildly asks. “You must’ve won. The thrall’s already gone.”

 

Ah, well, it was always a possibility that Eichi would feel it, but Kaoru’s poker face is unmatched. “A gesture that I’m serious. So you know I’m not just messing with you. I really am interested in not letting the thrall continue.”

 

“I’m not sure what you think I can do,” Eichi says, eyes lidding, “especially if I’m not fed. Why don’t you let me feed, and then we can talk? It’s a little inhumane of a paladin to starve a man, isn’t it?”

 

“If you think Paladins are all kindness and light,” Kaoru teases easily, “you haven’t known many. Starving demons is a delightful evening pastime for most of us.”

 

“Then you’re as disgusting as that demon slut you like to keep around,” Eichi sighs, flopping back. “Oh, well. I guess I have nothing to offer you, then, and I’ll be forced to take the king back by force.”

 

Kaoru eyes him. “All right. I’ll tell Rei you can’t be reasoned with, and to re-thrall him after all. And that there’s no way you can be trusted to travel alongside him. I’m a Paladin, he’ll listen to me.”

 

“Try again. Rei has no jurisdiction over me and where I go. The king declared me as his personal wizard.” Eichi smiles, kicking one leg slowly forward and back. “I’ll be going North regardless, I’m sure, because Rei _needs_ me if he doesn’t want his own pretty mate to die.”

 

“Can you stop yourself?”

 

Kaoru forgets all of his own training, shoving it to the side as unimportant for a moment, meeting Eichi’s eyes with his own. He’s not entirely sure if this part of lore is a myth or not, if there really is something mystical that happens if a Paladin and an archdemon lock eyes, but he firms his chin, prepared to find out. “Tell me honestly. Can you keep the king safe, if he’s with you? Can you make him whole? Can you heal the pain of his bond driving him insane? Do you want to?”

 

Eichi goes still, his pupils briefly slitting again before he blinks, his eyes returning to normal a split second later. “Asking me if I _want_ to is asking me if I _want to be here,_ ” he finally, lowly says. “Why else would I have clawed my way back? Archdemons don’t bother. You know that. If we’re sent back, that’s the end.”

 

“But you’re not common.” Kaoru shrugs one shoulder, trying to shrug off the strange chill that Eichi’s eyes bring, with mild success. “I’m used to dealing with Hiyori’s rank of archdemon. But you’re something else, aren’t you? You’re really old. What happens to a bond with something like you, after it’s been broken? You two shouldn’t even be able to sense each other.”

 

“Am I something else?” Eichi mildly asks, idly pushing up an overly sharp canine back into place with his tongue when it threatens to slide out. Rude, in shared company. “Who knows…ah, I actually don’t know the current state of our bond or how it’s acting, because Leo isn’t _here with me._ I could see it, and tell you, but I want him first.”

 

“And if you lose control?” Kaoru demands. “If you’re not prepared for it? You’re so hungry, you’d probably suck him down to catatonic without realizing it, he’s real delicate.”

 

“I’m not a stupid, moody teenager like the Demon King,” Eichi abruptly snaps, lurching forward in his seat. He doesn’t rise, though the way he grips the arms of his chair makes it very clear he’s interested in tearing _something_ apart, given the chance. “I know how to handle myself. If you’re so concerned with how hungry I am, let me take a bite of you first.”

 

Very deliberately, Kaoru flicks the latch on the door shut, and tugs at the top lace of his shirt. “For all the marbles,” he offers casually. “Think you can control yourself if you get a taste of a real Paladin? A pure, undiluted one?”

 

Eichi’s stare is immediately overly focused, and he feels himself salivate, his tongue flicking out to wet his lower lip before he can stop himself. “Hiyori seems to think you’re tainted. I suppose there’s only one way to check that properly.”

 

“Oh, lapsed at best,” Kaoru says cheerfully, stepping away from the door. “I figure…let you bleed off some of that energy. And if you can control yourself with a fresh, healthy, delicious treat like me, it’s less dangerous to let you at the king.”

 

It will stain him, irreparably, but Hiyori isn’t wrong. Kaoru doesn’t feel like he’s representing the White Holy Order so well as it is, right now. And if he dies, well, Rei will know better than to release Leo to Eichi then.

 

Eichi’s fingers twitch. No sooner does Kaoru take a step closer to him does Eichi rise, a hand fisting into Kaoru’s shirt as Eichi shoves him back against the now-locked door. “That’s an invitation,” he murmurs, lording his height easily over Kaoru as he casually catches his chin, turning his head up and aside. “As you obviously know. Archdemons aren’t so far removed from the kind of Shadowbred that you like to fuck.”

 

He bites. It’s far less about the taste at this point, far more about the sudden _rush_ of energy that rushes through his veins after so, _so_ long, leaving him to groan as he drinks, each hungry gulp leaving him drunker than the last.

 

Eichi pulls back after a long moment, panting and flushed, his lips slick with blood, and he releases Kaoru as he stumbles away, collapsing back into his chair with a heady little giggle. “Paladins really…are so good, wow, Rei really has cultivated a collection,” he sighs, head lolling backwards. “A pure paladin, and a human with lines _straight_ from Airbred royalty…lucky bastard.”

 

Kaoru doubts that a human can feel what’s really happening when an archdemon feeds on them. For a moment, he wishes he were one of them. A human would probably feel nothing but the bite, maybe a tingling.

 

Kaoru feels the piece of his soul that Eichi drains away, gone forever. It’s a staggering experience of dark pain, leaving ragged edges that feel raw, leaving him reeling, clutching at the wall. “Mmh,” he says, when he feels like he can speak, and is only partly right. “You stopped yourself. Are you…feeling better?” He’s sore, he’s weak, he’s bleeding inside.

 

“Still hungry,” Eichi sighs, watching Kaoru through lidded eyes, much like a predator that has injured his prey, and is enjoying watching it flounder about. “But…better. Much. All right, I’ll play fair, pretty boy. What was it you wanted from me again?”

 

Kaoru’s eyes glitter. This, fortunately, is what he’s been waiting for. “Swear to preserve the king’s life above your own,” he says quietly. “Swear it now.” _And the white, holy power you just ate will bind you to it._

 

“You think I’m stupid, don’t you.” Eichi lists to the side, still feeling drunk, and laughs, dropping his chin down into his hand. “You don’t have to _trick me_ to make me say that, you brat. I already did that once before, to save him, but fine, I’ll do it again and prove a point. I swear I’ll preserve my mate’s life above my own. Is that really all you want?”

 

Kaoru feels it, the pure _belief_ in his spirit threading through Eichi, fine white lines spreading out into his veins, and he sighs in relief. “I really did want you to have a bite to take the edge off,” he admits cheerfully, straightening himself up no matter the effort it takes. “I’ll go tell Rei. Wait here.”

 

He pauses with his hand on the latch. “I had to know,” he says, almost too low for Eichi to hear, “if what came back was really the same person.”

 

Eichi wrinkles his nose and looks away. “You really are a tainted paladin, aren’t you,” he sniffs. “Calling an archdemon a _person._ Bring me my mate, I’m tired of this. And if I find out that Rei’s thralled him again, I’m done. I’ve had a taste of your soul, I’ll have the rest.”

 

Kaoru somehow manages to keep himself upright as he makes his way back to his rooms, though he feels drawn and weary. He opens the door, then takes a few steps, sagging down to the bed facedown. “It’s fine,” he mutters against the soft cotton. “It’s fine. You can let the king go to him. He’ll be safe.”

 

Rei bolts upright from where he sits next to Leo, immediately striding to the bed to Kaoru’s side. “Could you _really_ not convince him to behave in any other way?” he frets, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and smoothing gentle, worried fingers down Kaoru’s spine. “Love, he took a _chunk_ , I can feel it. Kanata might be able to help, I’ll call him.”

 

Kaoru frowns. “Can’t Izumi do it? Didn’t he do it for your mate? Ahh, if Kanata can, that would be…nice, I just didn’t…ugh, I don’t want him to see me like this,” he admits, shifting until he can press his sweating cheek against Rei’s thigh.

 

“Izumi can, but…” Rei hesitates, glancing back to Leo with a grimace. “Maybe I should take you to him instead of calling Izumi here. Goodness, you have a thing for Kanata, don’t you.”

 

“Shut up,” Kaoru moans, squeezing his eyes shut. “This feels awful, take me to him. I know, it’s going to hurt.” He squeezes Rei’s thigh with one hand, a bit weakly. “But the king is safe. I promise. As safe as my power can make him.”

 

Rei sucks in a short breath, and nods, gently readjusting Kaoru on the bed before hoisting him up easily, cradling him into his chest. “You can pass out, it’s fine,” he says. “I’m just going to keep teasing you about how you want to fuck Wavebreds.”

 

“Noooo,” Kaoru whines, curling up in Rei’s arms like he’s done a thousand times, either from exhaustion or drunkenness or the simple joy of being here. “Gods, it’s bad enough that he’s got such a nice cock, worse that I _like_ it…”

 

“Mmhm,” Rei patiently says, nudging open the door with his hip. He doesn’t precisely know where Izumi is located, but sniffing out another wizard in this place is incredibly easy—especially when it comes to extremely…unique ones. “He doesn’t _let_ you top, does he. And you like that.”

 

“He’s real mean,” Kaoru says dreamily, trying to think of something vastly nicer than the way his soul feels chewed up. “I like getting fucked by creatures my family hates, it makes me hard.”

 

“ _Really_ , I never would’ve guessed.” Rei’s fingers curl into Kaoru’s skin, unsure if the low thrum of his own magic will help or hinder, so he doesn’t bother. Lengthening his strides to arrive at Izumi’s door is a better choice, and he lightly kicks it instead of releasing Kaoru to knock on it. “Once you’re feeling better, I’ll fuck you within an inch of your life. I can’t imagine they hate _anyone_ more than the Demon King, hmm?”

 

The door swings open, and there stands Izumi, sleepy-eyed, annoyed, and _obviously_ pregnant. It brings Rei pause, thinking over how much time has passed, but with the time spent in the Shadowlands taken into account—hmm. Troublesome. “Sena,” he lightly greets. “If you don’t mind, I—“

 

“Why is it,” Izumi crossly begins, stepping back, “that you can never visit just to visit. Ass. I’ll deal with it, bring him in.”

 

Rei decides to shut his fucking mouth, not exactly sure how a pregnant (cranky) ice drake wizard would effect his own magic, actually, and not wanting to risk it. Instead, he briskly walks in, gently setting Kaoru down into the bed.

 

“Sorry,” Kaoru groans, shoving his face down into the bed. “This is stupid, but I promise it was for a good cause. Shitty paladin’s honor. Nn, Rei, you should go. I’m pretty sure I’m going to yell a lot, I know that makes you unhappy.”

 

“I mean—yes, but I don’t want to _leave_ you,” Rei frets, reaching out to grab for Kaoru’s hand. Izumi, however, just swats him away.

 

“I can’t work if you’re going to be here sobbing and wailing,” Izumi grouses. “Just go. It won’t take that long, I think—it’s—“

 

He pauses as his fingers ghost down Kaoru’s back, and he frowns, his head tilting. “What is this even from?” he asks, his brow furrowing. “It feels magical. Did _you_ take a chunk out of him?”

 

“No, absolutely not,” Rei hurriedly says, holding up his hands. “I don’t feed like that.”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Kaoru says, giddy and dreamy, eyes unfocused, mind feeling fuzzy. “The king is safe, that’s what’s important. Heh, sometimes pain starts feeling kind of good after a while…”

 

In a sharp, abrupt shove, Izumi flips Kaoru onto his back, a hand pressed to his chest. “The king?” he asks, eyes narrowed. The chill of his touch slithers through Kaoru’s body, suddenly numbing that pain. “What about the king?”

 

“Ahh…shall I go? I’ll go,” Rei quickly says, slinking back towards the door, and then neatly making a break for it.

 

Kaoru’s eyes snap suddenly into focus, and his next breath feels almost _normal_ , that ease as abrupt and delightful as any opiate he’s ever tried. “Ah…wow, that feels _good_ , I thought this was going to feel terrible. Nn, just trust me, I got bit protecting the king, it’s what a paladin is supposed to do. You’re pretty.”

 

Izumi scowls, not entirely pleased with this explanation, but the faster he heals Kaoru, the faster he’s going to end up with answers, he supposes. “You’re getting special treatment, so you better not be lying,” Izumi warns, letting that chilling numbness spread extensively throughout Kaoru’s body. It takes far more focus, and he can feel a headache lingering at the edges of his senses, but he ignores it. The more pain relief in place, the less the actual healing will hurt. “Who bit you? Is the king here?”

 

“It’d be weird if the king bit me, right?” Kaoru giggles to himself, eyelids fluttering. “Mm. He’s kind of like a squirrel. Hey, your tits got even bigger, they’re _gorgeous_ , gimme a taste when you’re done.”

 

 _Useless,_ Izumi darkly thinks, and with that, takes a deep breath, splaying both fingers over Kaoru’s chest.

 

This is a _much_ easier task than the work he’d done on Shu. That was _everywhere_ , riddled all throughout his soul from his head to his toes. This is just a neat little chunk, teethmarks and all, which is highly disturbing on another level, but…much easier to heal. His magic spiders out throughout Kaoru’s veins, icy little fingers of it wrapping around the ragged edges within, pulling away the already-scarring bits and stretching it out to form new growth that’s quickly smoothed over.

 

It still gives him a headache. Izumi blinks a few times, shaking it off, ignoring the tremor in his own hands. Feeding later is probably wise, who knew his options would be so _slim_ when he’s a woman? Ugh. “Sorry, that was fast,” he exhales, rocking back onto his heels for a moment, then grabbing a blanket to immediately toss it over Kaoru. “You’re going to want to stay warm, it’ll keep being cold for…awhile.”

 

“You’re really something else, you know.” Kaoru’s voice is sleepy and light, his whole body feeling as if it had fallen asleep and is difficult to rouse. “A-ahh, seriously. No one is supposed to be able to do that, and you’ve done it twice.” He grabs clumsily for Izumi’s hand, missing the first time until he gets it. “You would be a god, in the old days.” His eyes are fever-bright.

 

“That’s…something, I guess?” Izumi manages, annoyed that his own hands won’t stop shaking now within Kaoru’s grasp. He’s not supposed to be the one shivering, that’s Kaoru, the _idiot._ “Who bit into you like that?” he quietly presses. “It was so clean, it didn’t look anything like a spell wrecking havoc.”

 

Kaoru closes his eyes. “Don’t go all crazy,” he mumbles, his limbs feeling heavy. “That’s why Rei didn’t tell you. It’s Eichi. He’s here. So is the king.”

 

“ _What?_ ” Izumi grips Kaoru’s hand more tightly, bending over him. “Don’t you dare fall asleep after saying something like that—is he here? Why wasn’t I told? Oi, if you stay awake, you can touch my tits!”

 

Kaoru’s eyelids snap open, trembling hand immediately raising to Izumi’s chest. “Y-yeah, they’re both here, there’s some shit going on. I think they’re all going up North, something about the Sorrow’s Gates.”

 

Izumi sighs, unlacing his top and yanking it down a bit more before helping Kaoru’s hand find its place on one breast. “Is he all right? The king?” There are a million other things he’d like to ask— _why wasn’t I told, how long has Eichi been back, are you_ sure _Leo is all right?_ —but the more information about Leo, the better.

 

Kaoru’s hand curls gratefully around Izumi’s breast, gently cupping as he sighs in relief. “Ahh, thank you. Damn, they’ve gotten _huge_ , I want to drink you dry. Uh, yeah, the king’s fine, I wrapped him all up in my magic and made Rei take the thrall off of him. He wasn’t feeling too good before that.”

 

“They’re not getting this big for you, bastard,” Izumi grouses, even as he drops down onto the edge of the bed, not _hating_ having someone touch him without squealing and running away. Chiaki aside, he’s fairly convinced everyone around here is too homosexual to function—or, in Mika’s case, too busy, or annoyingly dismissive. “I’m going to need to see him. Eichi’s not… _with_ him, is he?”

 

“I think so,” Kaoru says, slinging an arm around Izumi’s waist. “Let them be for tonight. Trust me. Go see him in the morning. You don’t want to get between them tonight. Bad idea. Stay with me, what if I die?”

 

Izumi hesitates, chewing at his lower lip. “You’re _sure_ he’s all right? Eichi didn’t…he didn’t try to feed on him like this, did he? If he wasn’t feeling well, how sure are you that I can’t fix it?” He’d already be out the door if he wasn’t nervous about Leo even seeing him like _this_ —and he’d be a liar to say he wasn’t terrified of running into Eichi in the process. There’s some instinct there that makes him want to stay _far_ away, just at the mention of his name.

 

“It was Rei’s fault.” A shadow passes over Kaoru’s face. “It was his fault. He let Eichi make him lose control. It got…bad. But Leo’ll be with Eichi now, the thrall is gone. I swear to you, on whatever’s left of my soul, I kept him safe. Eichi can’t hurt him.”

 

“…If you’re sure.” _He_ isn’t sure. The thrall being gone seems…good, but at the same time, horrifying. _What if Eichi does try to eat him? No, Kaoru wouldn’t lie about this._ Izumi slowly settles, drawing his legs up onto the bed. “Your soul barely has a nick on it, you big baby.”

 

Kaoru huffs. “I let him eat it so my power could bind him when he swore,” he mutters. “That’s why your king is safe, secured by the demon’s own words. So let me snuggle you. And lest you forget the way Rei did, the thrall was never to stop Eichi from feeding. It was to stop him from returning. And it didn’t work, you know? So just…I mean, think about it. No species could survive if they kept killing their mates, which would kill them in turn.”

 

“I know that, logically,” Izumi mutters, wavering a moment longer before he sighs, collapsing down and stuffing his face directly into Kaoru’s chest. “Fine. Touch my boobs and tell me I’m pretty, you smell good and I’m all shaky now that I had to fix you.”

 

Kaoru immediately burrows down like he’s a kitten searching for a teat, licking at Izumi’s exposed nipple before sucking it into his mouth, as if he can’t help himself, letting out a soft groan. “I know it’s only been like a day,” he murmurs, eyes closed, “but your chest is _so_ good. And you smell so good, it makes me hard.”

 

A muffled little squeak escapes Izumi’s mouth, and he clamps a hand over it in short order to keep that down. “Don’t suck too hard,” comes his muffled protest, though the color that rises to his cheeks says otherwise. “I’m going to start _leaking_ at this rate.”

 

Kaoru’s eyes flick up, and he grins, deliberately giving another long suckle. “Is that supposed to put me off?” he asks mildly. “Gods, you spend way too much time around men that don’t appreciate women, don’t you? That fussy little red-haired noble is the only one I can talk to.”

 

Izumi bites down on a groan, tense and wavering for a moment longer before he gives up with a breathy little huff, and just curls his fingers back through Kaoru’s hair, nails scraping against his scalp as his nipple hardens between Kaoru’s lips. “Kasa’s gross,” he mutters. “Most of the men around here are stupid. I’m objectively beautiful. And touchable.”

 

“Very,” Kaoru assures him. “And anyone who doesn’t take advantage of you is wrong.”

 

Unlike Tsukasa, sucking Izumi to the point of lactation isn’t the _point_ for Kaoru, so he simply rolls Izumi onto his back, pressing kisses to his neck. “Men are terrible. I’m the worst, though, heh.”

 

“But if the point _is_ to be taken advantage of, aren’t you the best?” Izumi sighs, letting his head roll back as he loosens the lacing on his shirt further. He definitely feels huge, with the swell of his belly being distracting and obnoxious, but at least Kaoru doesn’t make a big deal out of it. This is why he’s acceptable. “You’re feeling well enough to do this?” he quietly asks, running his fingers down Kaoru’s back, the touch cool and searching for anything he might have missed.

 

Kaoru snorts. “A gorgeous woman is in my bed—or a bed, at least, I guess it’s your bed, whatever—so trust me, I’m feeling great. If I wasn’t before I got to touch your breasts, I am now.”

 

“Maybe my tits are magical and healing, too,” Izumi says with a snort of his own, amused in spite of himself. “Maybe eventually I’ll get to have fun orgies again, when I’m not fat and gross.”

 

“Trust someone who’s been around more than you have,” Kaoru assures him, twirling a silver strand of hair around one finger, shifting to lie in the cradle of Izumi’s thighs. “There will _always_ be another orgy. For now, I’ll take care of you. Are you horny all the time, hmm? Or does it come and go?”

 

“I literally do not think it’s possible for me to be having enough sex right now,” Izumi grumpily says, squirming a little underneath Kaoru’s weight, and letting his thighs squeeze around him, maybe a bit over-eager. His breath hitches, and he tugs at Kaoru’s hair. “I blame this brat in me.”

 

Kaoru laughs, not unkindly, and reaches a hand down between them, sliding his fingertips up Izumi’s already-slick slit before delving teasingly farther. “Oh, yes, because you were a sober priest who never let his eyes stray. Surely, that’s the fault of your new little friend.”

 

Izumi growls, though the sound is more hungry than annoyed as he wriggles, digging a heel down into the mattress for leverage to arch _down_. “It’s worse than usual, you wouldn’t _get_ it,” he whines, his eyes fluttering. “I hope you knock Rei up somehow and you have to deal with _him_ being hornier than usual.”

 

“Don’t tease me,” Kaoru whines, bringing his mouth back to a nipple, swirling his tongue around it as he loosens his laces, easing himself free. “I’ve been trying to make him all sweet and round for a century, it’s not as easy as you’d think.”

 

“H-he seems to think…ah—“ Izumi’s voice hiccups, and he whimpers, arching his back, his hands grabbing at Kaoru’s shoulders, squeezing, kneading. “That..mmn…my magic can help other wizards with that? If they can shapeshift? That’s why he’s _awfully_ nice to me these days, you know—“ His eyes flick down, watching Kaoru’s fingers move to pull himself out, breath hitching up in his throat. “It’s hot, how you do that. Dunno why. Maybe I’m just horny.”

 

A slow, lazy grin spreads across Kaoru’s face, and he grabs Izumi’s hand, bringing it to curl around his cock. “I know it’s not a monster like _some_ monsters bring with them,” he says cheerfully, rocking his hips forward slowly, rubbing himself across Izumi’s palm, “but for someone who likes cock as much as you do, I feel like it’ll be just fine, hmm? No complaints yet?”

 

Izumi’s fingers curl, squeezing around Kaoru’s cock, his thumb rubbing slowly over the tip as it slides against his palm. “Better if it’s not too big, actually,” he admits, licking at his lips. “Then it just fits nicely…and we can do it _more_ , because I’m not so sore. Nhh, please…”

 

“Doing it more is always better,” Kaoru agrees, eyes lidded as Izumi plays with him. “Do you miss yours? Or is it just as fun to play with someone else’s? Ahh, you have such nice hands, we should do it when you’ve got one again, just for fun…”

 

“I can take or leave mine,” Izumi confesses, his own cheeks hot as he feels Kaoru drip across his palm, the hard warmth of him making his fingers squeeze and stroke automatically, as if driven by sheer instinct and need, nothing else. “Someone else’s…is always better, I think. We can do it again whenever you want, I’m fun even without tits.” His lips purse. “But your husband won’t fuck me, _really_ rude.”

 

“My husband is _terrified_ of any cunt that isn’t his own,” Kaoru says with a laugh, grabbing one of Izumi’s lovely legs, hoisting it up to kiss one thigh. “Unless you want to suck on it for a while, I need to be in you now.”

 

“Nooo, put it in, put it in, I’m gonna die if you don’t,” Izumi whines, hiking up his skirts further as he flops back with a huff, head lolling back into the mess of his hair. “He won’t fuck me when I’m _normal_ , either, he’s so mean, it’s a _conspiracy_.”

 

“My husband is an idiot.” Kaoru braces his weight on his knees, then shifts forward, guiding himself in with accuracy born of long, _long_ practice, easing himself in deeply, so much he can feel Izumi clench against him. “Ahhh, this is heaven, any man who doesn’t want to be here is a fool…”

 

“You c-can…ahh..say that again, more compliments,” Izumi dazedly says, sagging back as Kaoru fills him, clenching down tightly as if trying to suck him in. His fingers dig into Kaoru’s shoulders, clinging to him as he wriggles down, a panting little breath escaping past his lips. “You really…are the perfect size, aren’t you? And you know it, too, you ass…”

 

Kaoru melts down onto Izumi, sliding his arms around his waist, pulling him close so they’re skin to skin, his eyes closed in bliss. “You’re…the softest, sweetest, most perfect peach I’ve ever tasted,” he breathes, rocking in gently, kissing Izumi’s neck between each thrust. “I could _live_ in here…”

 

The noise that leaves Izumi’s throat is more of a purr than anything, his arms draping down Kaoru’s back, fingers occasionally curling when Kaoru slides in so sweet and deep that it makes him shiver down to his toes. “Please,” Izumi sighs, his eyes rolling back as he simply lets himself relax, feeling decidedly _pampered_ when he’s being fucked this nicely. “Please do. Nnh, you’re definitely allowed to stay, that’s…ahh…that’s _good_ …”

 

 _Distraction, achieved,_ Kaoru thinks to himself, but it’s hard to feel too proud of himself when all he wants to do is groan, careful in how he angles his hips, deliberately shifting to stroke Izumi from the inside, playing his body sweetly, touching overly-sensitive skin gently, plucking sensations through finesse and sweetness instead of brutal, demanding urgency. “To be allowed to serve someone so beautiful, that’s the greatest pleasure,” he whispers, tongue curling around the edge of Izumi’s ear.

 

Izumi shivers hard, his nails flexing into Kaoru’s back when his hips twitch up automatically to meet the way that perfectly thick cock sinks into him. He can _feel_ how wet he is, and that might embarrass him any other time, but fuck it—he’s horny, Kaoru feels good… _smells_ good, too, to the point he can’t resist lifting his head and stuffing his face into Kaoru’s neck, inhaling deeply. “If you knock me up, somehow,” he breathes, “I won’t mind.”

 

Kaoru’s laugh is breathless, and the way his tempo increases at that shows how much that idea sort of appeals, driving him to cant his hips in faster, a little harder, the soft sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. “Then you’d _really_ be full, hmm? How much seed does someone like you want in his belly?”

 

Izumi just whines at that, his thighs squeezing tight about Kaoru’s waist when he shoves in _so_ perfectly that his eyes cross, and a hand drops to one of his own breasts helplessly, absently twisting, pulling at one of his nipples as he pants up towards the ceiling. “Enough…that it spills out, and then more, after that,” he shamelessly groans, his face burning. “Please, please…ahh…you’ve got to, I’ll die…”

 

“That’s how much you need in your pretty pussy,” Kaoru murmurs, driving in with a smooth, comfortable motion, wringing out all the pleasure he possibly can from Izumi’s sweet body. “But you’ve got two more holes, haven’t you? Don’t pass out on me until you’ve had something to drink, too…” Izumi is easy to play with, and that’s delightful, he’s pretty sure.

 

Just the _words_ would be enough. Izumi is so, so certain Kaoru knows that, and can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed when he suddenly arches and gasps, jerking off the bed with a strangled whimper as his orgasm takes him by surprise, leaving him to clench tightly around Kaoru’s cock. “F…fuck— _fuck_ ,” he whimpers, collapsing back, plucking at his own nipple until even that’s far too much, and he drops his own trembling hand, chest heaving. “You… _you_ can do whatever you want to me, fuck…”

 

“Everyone else who fucks you,” Kaoru grunts, shifting to hitch up Izumi’s thighs over his forearms, “needs to meet this standard from now on, yeah? Don’t accept—anyone mediocre in here, this is fucking perfection—“

 

That’s all it takes, the squeeze of that gorgeous hole around him, the curves and swell of Izumi’s body pressed against him, before Kaoru is spilling, so deep inside that he fantasizes it’ll never come back out.

 

Izumi hiccups, every single pulse of Kaoru inside of him making him twitch and shiver, squirming on his cock as his toes curl so hard he starts to feel his legs cramp. That doesn’t stop him from enjoying it—maybe it makes it better, that edge of tense discomfort, and so he just languishes in it, an arm thrown back over his face as he pants open-mouthed. “Stay in there,” he breathes. “Fuck, please.”

 

“Mmph,” Kaoru says, eloquently. He feels pleasantly boneless, nuzzling into Izumi’s hair. “Yeah. I live here now. Gods, you’re so good at sex.” _And you feed on praise, which tells me that no one tells you the truth about how beautiful you are often enough._

 

“I just laid here,” Izumi mumbles, stroking Kaoru’s hair lazily. “Later, when I’m not pregnant, I’ll show you that I’m _really_ good. But you’re the best. Do you fuck guys like that, too?”

 

“I fuck everyone differently,” Kaoru says breezily, butting into Izumi’s touch. “Technique isn’t everything, it’s way more about listening to your partner, that’s what I’ve always believed.”

 

“Uh huh.” Izumi’s lips twitch in amusement, his fingers tiptoeing down the back of Kaoru’s neck. “You like it when guys top, got it. Same.”

 

Kaoru grins. “Why would I want to do the same thing with guys that I do with girls? What’s the point of liking both? I’m not one of those bastards who just wants a warm hole, no.”

 

“Ugh, _right?_ Putting your dick in men is fine and all, but it’s better to mix it up.” Izumi sighs, stretching underneath Kaoru, wriggling his toes. “I can’t wait until I’m _done_. This brat better be a boy.”

 

Kaoru scoots slightly to the side, enough to rub Izumi’s stomach with a gentle hand. “A little prince, hmm? What’re you going to name him?”

 

“No idea yet. I’m sure there’s some family name that he has to have, so I’ll leave it up to Leo,” Izumi sighs contently, sprawling out. “Don’t rub too hard or he’ll wake up and kick the shit out of me. He’s mean, definitely gets it from me.”

 

Kaoru’s hand stills, but he doesn’t remove it, letting his body heat seep into Izumi’s always-cool skin. “Already kicking? You’ve only got a couple months left, then. How long did you spend in the Shadowlands?”

 

“Awhile,” Izumi admits with a grimace, eyes lidding as he settles underneath the warmth of Kaoru’s touch. “A few weeks, I thought, but I think it might have been more like a few months? And I don’t know how that translates here…it’s so easy to lose track of time there. All I know is that I’ve gotten much bigger, much faster than I thought it would, and I’m not entirely convinced I like it.”

 

“At least the little bugger’s healthy.” Kaoru scrutinizes the bump, then announces, “Definitely going to be a boy.”

 

“How the hell do you know?” Izumi sniffs, swatting at him half-heartedly. “You’re a half-assed paladin, you don’t know anything.”

 

“A half-assed paladin,” Kaoru says patiently, “who is really, _really_ into pregnant women. And non-pregnant women. Women, is what I’m saying. You’re carrying heavy and high, with an early kicker. Classic boy.”

 

“Everyone’s got a different wive’s tale for that sort of thing,” Izumi says with a roll of his eyes. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I hope you’re right—but I’m taking it with a grain of salt. Wizards can’t even predict that kind of thing.”

 

“Wizards aren’t paladins.” Kaoru shrugs. “It’s just a prediction. But I’m right, just so you know. Do you think he’ll be indestructible?”

 

“Gods, I hope not.” The thought of his child _not_ being at least a fast healer makes Izumi’s pulse flutter, but—“One of my daughters…she’s not like me, but she still heals fast. And the other, just slightly above average. I don’t know if me carrying them would’ve changed anything…but I really hope for his sake that he’s normal. If he isn’t, and he’s the heir, that will cause problems.” His stomach flips nervously. “I’m still worried that he’ll be born with my hair.”

 

Kaoru shrugs. “If he is, then you’ll try again. Who knows, though? I know that usually, all the bad stuff is passed on from the father’s side. That’s why I try hard not to have too many of my own running around. Too many bad traits.”

 

“I don’t want to be pregnant forever,” Izumi groans, stressed by the simple idea of it. “I’ll jump off a cliff and weight myself down so I’ll drown in the ocean once and for all. If you have kids, I bet they’re adorable. And blonde. And charming.”

 

“At least one of them was,” Kaoru says, his smile a little sad. “You’d have liked him. Tall and strong and blond and so, so eager to do the right thing. Adorably stupid.”

 

“…Sorry, this isn’t a very sexy conversation,” Izumi quietly says, his hands going back to petting Kaoru’s hair. “But yeah, sounds like I would’ve liked him. I’m into morons with swords or arrows.”

 

“Spear.” Kaoru smiles, a little lopsided. “It’s not a sad subject. He was in his ninth decade when he died. For a regular human, that’s good, I hear. He had a good life, and I loved him, but I can’t imagine what it’s like to be tired of living after that short a time. Paladin’s privilege, I guess.”

 

“Yeah, spears are good, too,” Izumi exhales, toying with the ends of Kaoru’s hair. “I forget that you’re so old. You’re really good at not acting like it, but…damn, you’ve known Rei forever, so you _must_ be old.”

 

“Heh, yeah.” Kaoru shrugs one shoulder. “You get used to it, after a while. The whole being alive longer than other people thing. It’s not as wild as the cautionary tales would have you believe.”

 

“Is that why you finally settled on someone who could outlive you, though? The fear of your lover dying before you?” Izumi hears himself ask, unable to bite his tongue. “Sorry. You don’t need to answer that. I’m morbid when I’m pregnant, I guess.”

 

Kaoru laughs at that. “No, no, I fell in love with Rei before I would have found my first gray hair. No offense to my silver brothers. You know Rei and I got married in the Year of the Crow? That long ago, seriously. During the festival days, even.”

 

Izumi shakes his head at that, disbelieving. “You’re too old,” he ‘complains’, giving Kaoru’s shoulder a little shove. “Gross. But during the festivals, really? Only stupid teenagers eloping do that.”

 

“Yeah,” Kaoru says dreamily. “Oh, I was so horrible and he was so stupid.” He huffs a little, finally pulling out, so he can look askance at Izumi. “I didn’t know I’d have to deal with his bond back then, of course. If I’d known…I don’t know. Maybe all the same. Probably all the same.”

 

“That would’ve been…a couple hundred years ago, though, right? If my history is right…” Izumi shifts with a wince, then stretches out with a long sigh, flopping back listlessly. “So there’s no way you would’ve known. You know, I used to be so afraid of him, but I hear all these stories from you, and I lived in his _house_ for months—he’s just a long, crybaby tree hugger, isn’t he.”

 

“Oh, yeah.” Kaoru laces his hands together behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. “He’d be happiest just sitting in a tiny cabin in the forest all covered in vines, as long as it was full of dogs. I mean, he’s scary too, but just because he’s capable of doing incredible things doesn’t mean he isn’t a big softie.”

 

“I mean, I still kind of have the feeling that he could rip my head off. Ritsu told me he could. I’ve just decided to stay on Shu’s good side, because that tends to get me everything I want.” Izumi rolls onto his side, smoothing his skirts down, but leaving his tits prominently out. “Bonds don’t make a lot of sense to me,” he admits after another moment. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to be married to the king, and he’s…he has a bonded. No matter what, I’m going to be second place.”

 

“Welcome to the club.” Kaoru pauses a moment, then says, “Actually, we should totally start a club. We were married to them first, dammit. I hope the king is more attentive to you than Rei has been to me the last decade.”

 

“Don’t say that, that’s going to make me hate this more than I already do,” Izumi protests, dropping his head down into his arms. “Technically, he was bonded to Eichi before we were married, but we’ve been together for so much longer. I hate this. Who else is in the club? Are we the only ones?”

 

Kaoru shrugs. “They’re rare. Thank the gods, they’re rare. I’ve met other people with them over the years, but usually they strike young, and anyone who has one just disappears together.”

 

“…Mika might count, because he’s on the other end of the Shu debacle. They aren’t married, but it’s close enough.” Izumi scoots closer, burying his face into Kaoru’s chest. “What am I supposed to do,” he finally, softly asks, in a rare moment of actual honesty, “if the king is too wrapped up in that bond to care about me?”

 

Kaoru is pretty good at grabbing women and holding them close, especially when they want to be grabbed and held, and he puts those skills to use now, pressing a kiss to the top of Izumi’s hair. “Then you keep living,” he says softly, the only answer he’d been able to find for himself, though it makes his heart sick. “From experience? You drink yourself to bad decisions for a year. You kill a man you don’t know in a smoky tavern. You spend a couple of years reading every scrap of paper on bonds and burn a thousand prayers to gods you don’t really believe in. You find your family’s coldest, smallest house, and stare into the hearthfire, adding wood until winter turns into winter again. You take a girl to bed, because she doesn’t remind you of him, and then you take a man to bed, because he does, and you leave them both before they wake up. You wait. You live. And…” He swallows, taking a deep, shaking breath. “And eventually, he’ll come back. And it’ll feel like it used to. But there’ll always be something between you, like if your favorite dog showed up with someone else holding its leash. It still loves you, but its loyalty, its obedience, is to someone else now.”

 

Kaoru hears how tight his voice is, and feels the sting of wetness on his face. “Ah. Don’t listen to me. You caught me on a bad day.”

 

“…But I hate that.” Izumi’s voice stays quiet, and he refuses to lift his head, not wanting the wetness in his own eyes to show. “I’ve nearly died for him so many times. I’ve _wished_ I was dead, so many times, because of him. I thought…finally, _finally_ , it would be fine, and good. But now Eichi’s back, and…” His lower lip trembles, and he shoves his face harder into Kaoru’s chest with a wet huff. “It’s different. Everything with Rei is awful, I understand that, but Rei isn’t _Eichi._ He doesn’t kill or torture people because he thinks it’s _funny_. He doesn’t want to _own_ Shu. Eichi’s not going to give a shit about me, not like Rei does with Mika. It’s not the same.”

 

“You’re right about that.” Kaoru brings up his hand, stroking through Izumi’s hair. “But Leo’s not Rei, either. Rei…no matter what, he’s always been a game-player. And the two of us—no matter how close we were, we’d sometimes drift apart for a couple years at a time, if one of us was on a mission or tracking something or was dealing with family stuff. We always knew we had as long as we wanted, at least a few hundred years. Leo loves you so fiercely, Izumi. Also, Rei’s always been a slut, with his affection as well as his cock. Me, too. But from what I’ve heard, from him, Leo’s pretty loyal. He said he’d only been with three men, you and Rei and Eichi, right?”

 

“And Arashi, once, but I think that was a lie that they’re telling me to make me feel better about being in the Academy for years,” Izumi miserably says. “I _know_ Leo’s loyal, I’m not blaming him for any of this. I just…I know with bonds, they can’t help it.”

 

“Yeah.” Kaoru’s voice is blunt. There’s no reason not to be, when he knows they both know the truth. “So if you’re going to get your feelings hurt over and over, be stronger than I was. Leave.”

 

“I can’t _leave._ ”

 

“Yeah, you can, though.” Kaoru looks slowly at him. “You’re able. You wouldn’t like it, but you’d live. You still have a Dominance that’s all yours, right? You have friends, you even have other lovers.”

 

“I can’t leave and leave _him_ with someone that could hurt him so easily. You don’t know the king like I do—he’s really fragile, and a complete idiot, and if someone’s nice to him _once_ he’ll pretty much sign his life away, he’s…” Izumi’s breath hitches, and he looks away, frustrated when tears spring to his eyes again. “He’s so _stupid_. And I guess I’m pregnant with his brat, so that makes leaving harder, too. But I can’t.”

 

“Izumi.” Kaoru’s voice is firm, for all its gentleness. “You don’t owe him loyalty to the point of your own unhappiness. He wouldn’t want you to. If it gets unbearable, you _should_ leave. I don’t know what kind of person he is with the bond as opposed to without, but he’s a sweet boy, and he loves you a lot. Just know that it’s not impossible. You’re not trapped. You’re a Lord, independently wealthy and landed, with people that love you.”

 

It was nice not crying like an idiot while it lasted. The flood gates open, and Izumi’s breath hiccups, one hard blink all it takes before tears start coming, soaking into Kaoru’s shoulder. “The North’s fucking _broke_ , d-don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” Izumi sniffles, his own shoulders heaving. “Th…this is stupid. He’s never even been North, but now he’s g-going up there with Eichi? Fuck that, that’s not even…”

 

Kaoru shifts immediately, sitting up so he can pull Izumi into his lap, arms wrapped firmly around him. “Men are the worst,” he says, with incredible feeling behind the words. “Like, so, so bad. Fuck them, and seriously, the North is broke? What the hell happened to all the gold stashed in the Crystal Caves a couple centuries ago?”

 

“I’ve been to the Crystal Caves a million times, if there’s gold, it’s n…news to me,” Izumi chokes out, burying his face back into Kaoru’s neck as he slings his arms around his shoulders. “I don’t want to be like this,” he miserably says. “Jealous, and stressed, and constantly trying to be _reasonable._ I was really good at being a manwhore that liked hitting things with a sword, why can’t I go back to that?”

 

“Hey, that’s how I spent most of my life,” Kaoru says wryly. “I miss it, too. If you ever want to go on a ramble around the country, tumbling pretty girls and boys and fighting anyone who looks at us funny, let me know. There’s a really cool chain of islands above the Isles everyone knows about, the natives _really_ want light-haired bastards.”

 

“Maybe when I’m done being everyone’s broodmare,” Izumi huffs, rubbing his face into Kaoru’s neck. “The Isles in general sound good. Natsume told me they don’t have a concept of marriage or bastards there. They just fuck and deal it later, which sounds amazing. He doesn’t even know his own father, I wish that were me.”

 

“Same,” Kaoru says wistfully. “Does yours try to run your life, even way after you’ve grown up? And tell you you’re married to the literal scourge of humanity, and you’re disgracing the family name so badly you’ll pull your ancestors out of the heavens with the weight of your disgusting sins?”

 

“…No, mine just told me that it’s necessary to give into my instincts and fuck everyone, and if I don’t, I’ll probably rape people. Also, he’s weird about my daughters.”

 

Kaoru grimaces. “That sounds…terrible. I mean, I’d probably still trade. I’ve had centuries to annoy my dad. So, it’s settled. Fuck marriage, we’re going to the Isles.”

 

“Didn’t Rei used to be a pirate or something?” Izumi sniffs, leaning back to dab gingerly at his sore eyes. “Where’s his ship, let’s steal it and go.”

 

“He wasn’t a very good pirate,” Kaoru says with a roguish grin. “But the best thing about being one is, we can just steal _any_ ship.”

 

“If I have this kid in the Isles, it’s exempt from a lot of mainlander laws and regulations,” Izumi says, now seriously contemplating this. “Damn. I wonder how that would go over.”

 

“You…could set him up as a freeholding Lord,” Kaoru says suddenly, frowning. “If you had the cash to do it. I mean, he’d have to contest a claim to the throne, but he wouldn’t have to grow up with people trying to discredit and assassinate him. Just in case he is normal, I mean.”

 

“I’m overthinking all of this,” Izumi groans, burying his face into his hands. “Fuck. I just want to give him his heir and run his armies, but maybe I _should_ have the kid there. It’s more if—if he has my hair, and has all the weird half-blood issues I do—that’s when I think he’ll be contested. Vehemently. So maybe, as a precaution…ugh. I don’t know anymore. First things first. Do you think Eichi can really close those gates?”

 

Kaoru shrugs. “I didn’t think Shu would be able to do it alone. They teach us young that if a Sorrow’s Gate shows up, the only thing that closes it is a Paladin’s willing sacrifice, so we’d better get a running start.”

 

“I’m going to need something more concrete than that so I don’t hate this situation entirely.”

 

“Then you’re going to need to get it from someone else,” Kaoru says honestly. “Ask Shu, he’s the genius who did it himself. I don’t understand magic at all.”

 

“You’re married to _Rei._ Do you two seriously not talk? I don’t understand paladins at all.”

 

“You’re married to Leo. Do you know a lot about taxation on central cities by bracket?”

 

“No, but only because I haven’t needed to—okay, fine, point taken, asshole.”

 

Kaoru laughs. “I just don’t like magic that much. I don’t like doing it, either—oh, but if my family heard me call what I do ‘magic’ I’d be disowned for the third time.”

 

“But isn’t it, though?” Izumi curiously asks, leaning back and sort of absent-mindedly remembering to stuff his boobs back into his shirt. Whatever, they hurt. Useless things. “I don’t know anything about paladins, sorry. All I know is Rei talks about you a _lot_ when he’s drunk, specifically how you look with your big holy sword or something.”

 

Kaoru’s brow furrows, and he rakes his hands back through his hair. “What do you know about Paladins? Or what stories have you heard?”

 

“Uh…pretty much nothing. I just know the royal family is descended from them. Oh, and humans that protected against wraiths-now-archdemons back in the day ended up becoming paladins in the first place. So paladins are very fancy snacks to demons because they’re pure human, no matter what, and no one else really is, if you look back far enough.”

 

Kaoru blinks. “Huh. That’s more than most humans know, these days. Good job. Yeah, so, that pure humanity thing is something they drill into us. But what’s important is, paladins as an order, not as an ethnic group, formed because of the Shadowlands. You know about the Dark Depths?”

 

“I’ve had some history lessons in the Shadowlands,” Izumi says with a little shrug. “Ritsu’s way more of a nerd than he lets on. All I know about the Dark Depths is that’s where archdemons fell to…right?”

 

“Ssssort of. It’s more accurate to say that the Shadowlands is where some demons managed to climb out to. After the races split, almost every demon was thrown down into the Dark Depths—you understand that they’re more than physical, they’re also a place of power, I’m sure—and eventually, some of them crawled out. And a lot of them ate humans, obviously. It’s what demons do. And humans fought them, and that was fine.”

 

Kaoru sucks in a breath. This…was where it got tricky. “But some demons started doing something besides just eating humans.”

 

“Fucking them?” Izumi deadpans, his eyebrows raising. “I’m guessing? Because that’s what demons like to do, regardless of the species, I’ve noticed—fuck humans.”

 

Kaoru barks out a laugh. “I mean, that’s involved, but not what I’m talking about. Okay, let me explain it in a way that makes sense. Say you’re living in a village in the Hinterlands a couple thousand years ago. You know there are demons out there. You’ve gotten really, really good at standing back to back with your brothers against them. You’ve trained in exactly one kind of killing: the kind that takes a demon down and _keeps_ him down, forever. You’re absolutely deadly with a blade, and so are your brothers in arms. You with me so far?”

 

“Mmhm. I’m following, though you should totally hold my tits while we’re discussing this.”

 

Kaoru beams. “You’re a great student, just the kind I like.” He fills his hands, cupping and stroking, and sighs happily. “Right. So. One of your brothers in arms starts acting a little differently. He starts telling you that he’s not so sure the demons are going to attack at night anymore, he’s overheard something that says they’ll come in the daytime. What do you do? Do you divide your force, half taking day and half taking night? Do you ignore him, and maybe damn your whole village, all the unprotected women and children, to being taken? Send your whole force to patrol during the day?”

 

Izumi flops against him, hooking his chin over Kaoru’s shoulder with a pleased sigh. Yes, that’s better, much easier to focus. “Sounds like typical demon bullshit, okay.”

 

“You’re thinking like a modern man. All demons had done back then was eat people, and none of them looked human.”

 

“…Fair enough. So, yeah, I probably wouldn’t believe him.”

 

“It wouldn’t matter. Whatever you did, the worst possible thing happens. And when the demons came, your brother turns, and starts fighting with them. And remember, you know how to kill demons. You know how to use your weapons against claws and teeth, not against your beloved brother, maybe even your real brother, who comes at you with a sword.” Kaoru shakes his head slowly. “Hundreds of villages were wiped out like that. Demons invented the thrall, a way to overwhelm any person’s mind with a little effort and turn them into what looked like eager, willing slaves. For hundreds of years, the only way to deal with a thrall was to execute the person the demon possessed. But no one could tell for sure who had been taken. Imagine how much chaos that caused.”

 

“Oh. Shit.” Izumi sits back a bit, though not enough to dislodge himself from Kaoru’s hands. “Admittedly, I never…I was only introduced to the concept through seeing the things Rei did with it. Hearing about it like this, yeah, that’s terrifying.”

 

“That,” Kaoru says quietly, meeting Izumi’s eyes, “is why Paladins came to be an order. To stop that exact dark magic. A child born to our clan is put through training that is…rigorous.” The way he shivers makes it obvious that ‘rigorous’ is a pale word for it. “It’s training to teach them to…well. It’s hard to explain. The closest way I can say it to someone who isn’t one is that Paladins are taught to live in the soul, not the body. It takes us to a slightly different plane of existence. We can see the true nature of creatures, and see demonic magic affecting things. The side effect, we found out, is that by becoming more spirit-based than flesh-based, the way humans are, is that if we believe strongly enough that something _should_ be so within our sphere of influence, we can kind of…make it so. It’s easier with props, that’s why I carry them. Like my sword, if I believe in my absolute soul that it can cut through not only flesh, but spirit—and that I _should_ separate spirit from body—I can probably kill a demon dead, and not just send it back to the Dark Depths.”

 

“So you’re literally made to kill things like archdemons…or Rei,” Izumi wryly says, his eyebrows raising slowly. “Why didn’t Rei call you in to kill Eichi back when he was causing havoc before? If you say it was because he was embarrassed about his bond, I’m going to scream.”

 

Kaoru grimaces. “I mean, it could have had something to do with that, for sure, but…Eichi and I have…sort of a…working arrangement. My great-grandfather sponsored him to get into the country. He helped my great-grandfather track down and kill a lot of the most insidious demons that had inserted themselves into our government. Because of that, he got a lot of leeway from Paladins, though we definitely had a strict do-not-engage policy.”

 

Izumi exhales slowly at that, trying not to scream for other reasons. “All right. That’s fair, I suppose. So—okay, answer me honestly, then. My opinion is, honestly, a little tainted right now after all the trouble he put us through the last time he was…alive, or whatever. Should I be surprised that Eichi is back and apparently working on our side? Is he actually _capable_ of being decent? He’s an archdemon, but you’re a paladin. You’d know best, right?”

 

“ _Please_ don’t forget that I’m a shitty paladin,” Kaoru says, a little nervously. “I mean, honestly, if you told the rest of my family I was claiming to be a paladin, they’d either laugh or try to have me run out of the country. But, like, also, I think they’re way too beholden to politics and special interest, so their opinions aren’t perfect, either. That said…”

 

He shrugs. “Eichi has worked on a lot of sides. Usually he favors one group of humans over another, but it’s worth noting that in the thousand or so years that my family has been tracking his movements, in one guise or another, he’s never flat-out allied himself with demons against humanity. Ever. I don’t know why not.”

 

“…That’s something, then, right?” Izumi chews on his lower lip. “I just—it’s more about him hurting Leo’s feelings than anything,” he admits. “I _know_ by this point, Leo’s got his hopes up. He assumes Eichi’s going to do the right thing because _he_ asked him to. I really hate seeing him disappointed.”

 

“Not for nothing,” Kaoru says, almost hating to give the news, “he’s lived for over a thousand years, maybe as long as we’ve _had_ a recorded history, and he’s never had a bond before. I doubt even _he_ knows what he’s going to do.”

 

“No wonder he got weird and started faking them,” Izumi mutters, glancing up to meet Kaoru’s eyes. “It’s weird, right? For archdemons to bond to humans? Sorry to pick your brain, but anything about Eichi is pretty much a ‘fuck no’ in the discussion department in the Academy.”

 

“Eh, it’s fine.” Kaoru smiles, and kisses Izumi’s temple. “You were so sweet to me in bed, I’ll tell you anything you want to know. As for weird…it’s hard to say. Not because there are a lot of them that do, just because resonant bonds are kind of weird and rare. If it’s two wizards, they don’t bother telling anyone else about it, they just go off together. If it’s a wizard and a human, the human doesn’t feel it at all. If it’s a human and an archdemon…well, I’ve never heard of it happening before, but I assume most demons would drag them back to the Shadowlands and one of them would kill the other, but I’ve never seen a demon that can control his hunger like Eichi can.”

 

“Different than half-bloods for sure, huh,” Izumi exhales. “Sure. Then…if he’s actually trying to control it, and has never outright sided with demons, _and_ seems to have agreed to close the Sorrow’s Gates and kick that drude out of the North—I suppose it’s time for me to start getting used to him, huh?” His lips twitch wryly. “I’ve never even really talked to him. Guess I should try.”

 

“…Be careful,” Kaoru warns softly. “I know you know he’s dangerous. Be careful, because the most dangerous thing about him is how likable he is. He’s smart. He’s funny. He’s friendly. He’s useful. And sometimes, he’s on your side. You’ll probably like him. Fuck, I’ve seen what he is, I’ve felt him eat part of my soul, and I still…yeah, I like him.”

 

“I’ve already talked Leo off about him half a dozen times. I’m pretty sure I’m already fucked.”

 


	24. Chapter 24

 

The second Leo finds himself unguarded, heat ripples through him, suffusing his limbs. He gasps in a breath, and arches his back, feeling a sudden prickling of some indescribable emotion flowing through him, patching over something odd and questing inside him, some frayed tattered ends inside of him suddenly straining, alert, quivering towards something as if leading him, like the needle on a dozen compasses all at once finding North.

 

He rolls onto his hands and knees, then stumbles, unseeing and unwitting, to his feet. Ache throbs in him with every beat of his heart, and his feet shuffle forward, following that urgent tug out of Rei’s room, leaving that heavy white cloak in a clump on the floor behind him.

 

The second he hits the hallway, he turns left instinctively, running now, sprinting, not knowing what he’s headed for, only certain, certain, that when he finds that thing he’s being pulled towards, when he finds it, when he _finds_ it—

 

Leo runs past it at first, and the wrench of his senses to behind him stops him so fast he skids, arms wobbling to keep his balance. He turns, and bursts through the unassuming door, eyes wild, until he sees Eichi, apparently sleeping in a plain, visitor-sized bed.

 

Leo swallows, mouth gone dry, and doesn’t even have the presence of mind to kick the door shut behind him before he moves, shedding his clothes and wriggling his way under the blankets, getting skin-to-skin without a second’s pause, mouthing urgently over the first bit of exposed skin he can find as something in him shudders, and starts to mend. “Wake up,” he whispers, “and have me.”

 

Eichi jerks awake in an instant, startled out of the faux-sleep that he’s come to enjoy in the centuries of his existence. It’s a shock, feeling Leo so suddenly—no, not the skin-to-skin contact, but really, honestly _feeling_ him, the scent of Rei already faded, little prickles and shivers of something _more_ making him suddenly, indescribably _hungry_.

 

Instead of rolling over to pin Leo to the mattress, Eichi grabs for him, pulling him atop him, grabbing for his face to hold it steady for a moment as his breath hitches in his chest. His eyes refocus in dim light, glowing that bright, inhuman blue as they lock with Leo’s. “You,” he breathes, his thumbs smoothing over Leo’s cheeks. “You…just you, without that thrall. Look at you, you’re lovely.”

 

Leo hesitates, trembling in Eichi’s hands, as if he’s feeling more than he’s _able_ to feel. He blinks slowly, nuzzling into Eichi’s hands. “I m-missed you,” he whispers, even though they’d seen each other so recently. “Kiss me. Please.”

 

Eichi pulls him down, sliding up onto his elbows in turn, meeting him half-way to kiss him soundly, his teeth catching against the swell of Leo’s lower lip. “You feel…whole,” he murmurs, his eyes lidding as he strokes Leo’s hair. “I was worried. That something wasn’t right after I was tossed back into the depths, but…mmn, no, you’re perfect.”

 

“I thought I was broken.” Leo’s voice shakes, and his tongue darts out, licking his slick lips after Eichi pulls away. He closes his eyes, finally starting to relax, hands resting on Eichi’s chest, as if anchoring himself. “I forgot. That it felt so…warm, between us. So…gentle.”

 

“You can feel it, can’t you?” Eichi pets a hand down Leo’s back, fingers tiptoeing down his spine. “Ahh, I thought for sure I snapped it clear in half, but I guess it takes something nastier than me to really destroy something this strong. It’s growing back.”

 

“I’m glad.” The words almost rip out of Leo’s chest, the guilt coming with them, but it’s hard to worry about that now. “I wanted it to. Ahh, what does that mean, that I can feel it? I didn’t think humans could.”

 

“It’s that pretty paladin blood of yours, I bet. It’s stronger in the royal family than any others, except paladins themselves.” Eichi slowly rolls, pressing Leo down onto his back as he covers him with his body, nuzzling up into his hair, mouthing a warm, wet kiss to his throat. “Guess who had a snack while you were resting up,” he murmurs, shivering from how it feels to kiss Leo— _Leo_ , not the layer of magic over him.

 

Leo wriggles under the touches, smile spreading over his face. “And here I am, all ready to feed you…and you go to someone else before I get here, hmm?”

 

“It’s better like this. Now, I can just chew on you, and not actually slurp you down.” Eichi does bite, though—the sharp prick of his unseen fangs bringing dots of blood to the surface of Leo’s shoulder. “But fuck, you still taste good.”

 

Leo squeaks, trying not to flinch at the bite, hands coming up to thread through Eichi’s hair, tugging him close. “Ah…I didn’t think it was so…physical? Are you really going to _eat_ me?”

 

“Oh, no, absolutely not,” Eichi hums, his tongue dragging over the slowly dripping blood all the same, shivering at the taste. He shifts, dragging a thigh up between Leo’s legs. “But in your blood swims little bits and pieces of your soul, did you know that? So I can taste it, in small amounts, now that you aren’t thralled and all chained up. As long as I’m nice, it shouldn’t hurt you.”

 

Leo’s eyes burn bright, fixed on Eichi like he’s the North star, the only constant in an inconstant world. His legs part just as Eichi’s thigh comes up, as if he can sense Eichi rather than seeing him, as if they fit together like two puzzle pieces. His neck tilts back, and he runs his fingertips down Eichi’s chest, just luxuriating in the feel of him. “I trust you,” he says simply.

 

Eichi’s breath hitches, his hands sliding down to Leo’s waist, to his hips, squeezing and holding him as he bends to that soft, pale neck again, sucking on the arc of it, leaving little marks in his wake that start to resemble the collar he’s always teased about. “Good,” he says, his voice a low, breathy rumble against Leo’s skin.

 

Eichi’s lips make Leo shiver, but his teeth make Leo moan, his thighs spreading wider automatically, his head falling back to give Eichi more room to work. “We’re…special, aren’t we?” he asks, fingertips delving under Eichi’s shirt, touching the soft skin over sleek muscle of his abdomen. “Together.”

 

“We’re certainly something,” Eichi sighs, pausing to briefly nuzzle up behind Leo’s ear, then bite the lobe of it, tongue snaking out teasingly. “You smell _so_ good. But you could smell even better, so it’s time for you to smell like me.”

 

He shifts, reaching a hand down to tug open his laces, though he pauses in pulling his cock out. Instead, he grabs for Leo’s hand, dragging it down instead, giving that task to him. “Sorry for misbehaving earlier,” he murmurs. “But the end result was good, hmm?”

 

Leo’s fingers are quick and clever, tugging at Eichi’s laces, freeing that thick, familiar cock with practiced ease, immediately curling around it as if magnetized. “Ah…that was…something, for sure.”

 

His lips are parted, breath coming quick as soon as he sees Eichi’s cock, his own thighs pressing together to try and relieve the ache of sudden arousal. “You were so…nnh, it was insane. I thought you were going to throw me from my horse and fuck me on the ground, right in front of everyone. Like you wanted to show Rei that I was your, your bitch or something.”

 

Eichi’s breath stutters, escaping as a hiss as those slender, clever fingers curl around his cock. He lurches forward, rubbing his cock against Leo’s palm as his breath escapes as a hot, wet wash against Leo’s ear. “That’s exactly what I wanted to do,” he rasps, strong hands prying Leo’s thighs apart again. “You’re mine. My bitch, my mate. My king. _Mine._ ”

 

“ _Yes!_ ”

 

The word arches through Leo, electric and galvanizing, making him arch and grab at Eichi, legs spread shamelessly wide, fingernails digging into his back as he gasps. “That’s it, that’s right, that’s what I am, you’re the only one who’s ever seen it…Nnh, you’re going to show them all now, right? Show them—show them who owns me?”

 

“Everyone will know.” The words are a blunt promise, and Eichi reaches down to his own cock, thumb dragging down from the dripping tip, spreading that slick fluid down the length of it. It’s not enough, but it’ll do, and easing his cock to Leo’s twitching hole makes his mind blank out, anyway. It’s with a grunt of effort that he forces the head inside, a hard thrust shoving the rest of his cock in at least half-way, and Eichi bends forward, panting at that sudden brilliantly hot, achingly _tight_ squeeze. “Be good, and make me come,” he breathes, nipping at Leo’s bared throat, his hands suddenly rough as he grabs at Leo’s thighs to pull him down onto his cock. “And it’ll be easier, when I fuck you again.”

 

“Don’t ever pull out,” Leo groans, hands grabbing everywhere, _everything_ , nails raking at Eichi’s back, eyes rolling back in his head with each deep, possessive thrust. Eichi feels bigger than ever in him, or is he just tighter, clenched harder? Either way, Leo is nothing but _hungry_ , even as Eichi works him open, spreading him wider with each rock of his hips, impaling him sweetly with a force that could shake mountains. “Just—keep fucking me,” he pants. “L-let me—this is what I’m made to do, right?” He must be, because nothing in his life has ever felt as _right_ as being filled inexorably with the thick cock of an archdemon.

 

At that question, Eichi might as well _purr_ , the sound low and rumbling as he nuzzles up into Leo’s hair, his teeth sharp against the curve of his ear. “Mmhm, and you’re good at it,” he murmurs, his voice breaking into a low, breathy growl when Leo’s nails rake into his skin, and he can’t resist grabbing harder at his hips, yanking Leo down until he _hears_ the physical slap of skin against skin, bottoming out inside of him. Eichi stills for a shaky breath, just to feel the aching clench of Leo around his cock when he’s buried fully inside, and his hands slowly, shakily slide down and under, curling around the curve of Leo’s ass to hike his hips up further. Thrusting in hard, at _this_ angle, feels like a shock of lightning down his spine, his cock twitching inside, painfully hard and leaking with every single thrust. Sweat drips down from his brow from the effort it takes not to come already, just from feeling _Leo_ , purely _Leo_ with nothing in the way, and Eichi groans, his head thunking down into Leo’s shoulder. “Fuck,” he pants. “You’re perfect. Ah…fuck, just like that, love, you’re so good at taking it, aren’t you?”

 

Every time Eichi thrusts in, it feels like Leo’s being hollowed out, like Eichi’s so big it stuffs him full, leaving no room for anything but _him_. Every time Eichi pulls out, even a tiny bit, even just from leverage, Leo cries out, feeling horribly empty, demanding more, squirming down for more, even when he’s so full he’s drooling. One of his hands goes shakily to his belly, feeling the huge press of Eichi into him, full and hard and heavy.

 

Words fail him. The only thing that matters is Eichi, above him, inside him, surrounding him. The only thing that matters is the way those broken bits of glass in his soul ease into sand, flowing together with rounded edges, soothing him in his most jagged places. The only thing that matters is that he hasn’t stopped coming since Eichi got inside him, doesn’t _ever_ want to stop.

 

Eichi lasts barely two, three more thrusts before he’s coming, gasping into Leo’s neck, his hands trembling as they clutch at every part of Leo they can grab and wrap around, holding him still, onto his cock, where he comes so hard that sparks flutter up behind his eyelids, so much that he can feel it drip out when he thrusts forward and through his orgasm, until he goes still, buried entirely inside, unwilling to pull out even an inch.

 

Everything that he didn’t _realize_ was raw feels…smoother, somehow, like the freshly healed, shiny skin of a deep wound, and it’s such a relief that he nearly collapses, his limbs shaking as he slowly flops down, his arms encircling Leo to drag him close, plastering their sticky skin together. “Don’t squirm too much,” he breathes into Leo’s ear. “I need a moment before I start again. Feels good, though, doesn’t it?”

 

“Crawl inside the rest of the way,” Leo moans into Eichi’s shoulder, as boneless as a gutted fish. “All of you. In all of me. Forever. Yeah. Feels real good.”

 

“Mnn, sorry, I think this is as far as it goes,” Eichi breezily says, his arms wobbling before giving out completely. “Nnf. Tell me if you start being too squished.”

 

“Squish me flat,” Leo insists. “Wear my skin like a hat. Lay eggs in me.”

 

“Shhh. I already did, you’re being silly.”

 

Eichi nuzzles his face into Leo’s sweaty hairy, inhaling deeply. “So you’re not mad at me anymore? Praise me, tell me you think I’m wonderful.”

 

“I was mostly mad at myself for thinking it was hot,” Leo mutters, though he can’t keep a little smile from his face. “Really embarrassing. Also the thing Rei did was hurting real bad, I’m not mad at you.”

 

A low, quiet growl wells up before Eichi can stamp it down. “Maybe let’s not mention him right now,” he says, smiling when he forces himself up onto his elbows over Leo. “I might have riled myself up in the process of that, too.”

 

“You’re hot when you growl,” Leo says shamelessly, deliberately flexing, squeezing down around Eichi’s half-hard cock inside him. “I like it when you lose control, when you’re really honest. It’s a fun change.”

 

“Don’t encourage me,” Eichi warns, though only half-heartedly as he shifts, shivering at the feel of Leo squeezing down around him, and unable to resist a little lazy thrust up into that warm, slick tightness. “I’m always honest with you. You don’t want me to be _more_ honest, trust me.”

 

Leo squeaks, and grins up at Eichi, looping his arms around Eichi’s neck. “Why is it so hard for you to believe that I might really like you as a person? We’re all gross deep down, you know.”

 

“Mmnn…archdemons, I think, are a special kind of gross,” Eichi breathes, pressing a warm kiss to Leo’s lips before he readjusts, wrapping his arms around Leo’s waist before sitting up and hauling him up into his lap. “Too much like this?” he mildly asks, his hands sliding down to squeeze Leo’s ass, fingers teasingly sliding down to where his cock stretches that tight hole. “Or good? Feels nice and full, I bet.”

 

“A-ahh…” Leo’s eyes lid, and he sucks in a breath, adjusting his weight to try and get comfortable when he’s being stuffed so full, so suddenly. “Nn. No, it’s good. When you do pull out,” he suggests, eyes a little glazed with arousal, reaching up to tweak his own nipple, “you should just…play with the mess you made in me. It’s too dirty for Izumi, but it’s such a nice idea…”

 

Eichi’s eyes lid, and he settles back, his head thunking back against the headboard. He has a _very_ nice view like this, and it’s easy to let his hips thrust up languidly, keeping Leo nice and full. “Get me off again, and I’ll lick it right out of you,” he says with a sweet smile, reaching up to pinch Leo’s nipple for him as his cock swells.

 

If that isn’t incentive, Leo doesn’t know what is. He sucks in a breath at that image, then gets his knees onto the bed, raising himself up when his back arches, his chest twinging with desire and _hunger_ when Eichi plays with him. “You’re big in me,” he groans, grinding his ass down onto that thick cock. “N-no one fucks like you, no one feels like this…f-fuck me until I forget the last ten years, let me—“ His hips cant up, and he slams himself down, grunting eagerly with every slap of their hips.

 

Eichi’s hands move, settling around Leo’s chest instead of bothering to guide his hips. It’s easier to let Leo do the work there, with only the occasional arch of his own hips up to sink in deeper, _harder_ aiding Leo’s movements as his fingers work, twisting, pulling, plucking at his nipples. “Good boy,” he breathes, licking his lips as he watches Leo move, watches every drop of sweat slide down his skin, every twinge and ripple of lean muscle underneath his skin. “You’ll forget all of those years soon enough. This is what you’re good for, keeping my dick warm.”

 

Leo’s face is flushed, his whole body focused on how good it feels to have Eichi _in_ him, filling up his empty spaces, so big it cramps and aches with every thrust. His thighs tremble, but that’s less with exertion and more with the way Eichi toys with him, with those breathless words. “I’m—so hot,” he groans, even his chest flushed red. The sight of his own nipples, red and twinging from Eichi’s play, makes him even harder, his cock slapping down against Eichi’s stomach with every bounce down. “I want to—if I—if I come, is it—am I allowed to—“

 

“No. You can wait.” It makes him harder to hear Leo _ask_ , his cock throbbing inside with every wriggle of Leo down onto it. Eichi pinches one nipple hard enough that he feels it throb with Leo’s pulse, his eyes lidded as they watch Leo’s face. “You need to get me off first. Mnn, hold still for a moment, I just want you sitting on it, all the way down,” he breathlessly instructs, abruptly reaching down to grab Leo’s hips and yank him where he wants him. His palm slides over Leo’s stomach afterward, tracing what he’s _sure_ is the outline of his cock when he lazily thrusts up. “Feel that? That’s how deep I’m gonna come in you.”

 

A low, shuddering cry forces its way out of Leo’s mouth, and he squeezes his eyes shut, the muscles of his stomach fluttering when he holds himself down, Eichi’s hands like iron on him. It’s a thrill to know, somehow, that even if he wanted to get away, if Eichi really _wanted_ to keep that cock in him, there isn’t much he could do about it.

 

He’s so hard, hard enough that he desperately wants to rub against something, but he stops himself, hiccuping when just Eichi’s approval makes him even harder. “Th-that’s…where you have to be,” he insists.

 

“You’re so good, I can’t believe how fast you trained up,” Eichi sighs, his voice hitching as his fingers squeeze around Leo’s hips. He thrusts up, harder this time, and only lifts Leo an inch or two over his cock, holding him in place as just a hole to fuck up into, slick and tight and clenching so sweetly around him. “Just—ahh—wait for me—t-then you can come, once I’ve got you nice—and full again—“

 

Eichi thrusts and shoves, the slap of their hips together accompanied by his low, hungry grunts until he buries himself completely inside, yanking Leo down onto his cock and holding him there as he stills with a ragged groan, filling him with pulse after pulse. “There,” he pants out, shivering with each twitch of his cock. His fingers splay, pressing down over Leo’s stomach. “ _There_ , nhh, you’re s~o stuffed here, aren’t you?”

 

Leo nods shakily, sweat dripping from the tip of his nose to splash onto Eichi’s stomach, his own so full he can feel it, can see it, which only makes him pant harder. He’s so close, cock swollen and tingling, aching with the need to come, and he holds back with all his willpower, grabbing Eichi’s hand and yanking it to his own neck, eyes wide and pleading. “If you—if you call, I’ll come if you call me…”

 

Eichi’s eyes lid, his tongue flicking out to wet his lower lip as he watches Leo, sweat dripping down from his own hairline as his fingers squeeze, tightening around Leo’s neck. “If I call you what?” he softly asks, eyebrows ticking upward. “What was it…kitty?”

 

Leo whimpers helplessly, spilling over Eichi’s belly with a needy thrust down of his hips, desperate to milk out every last tingle of pleasure from their joining. He gasps for breath, hands clutching at Eichi’s chest, body sagging down on top of Eichi’s, trembling like a leaf. “Did I…do good?” he breathes, eyes flicking up to meet Eichi’s.

 

Eichi purrs, pleased and sated, his fingers dropping down from Leo’s throat down to the mess spilled over his stomach. “Mmhmm. Very good.” He drags his fingers through the sticky fluid, toying with it. “We’re both a mess, it seems. When you’re ready to hop off, I’ll clean you up, at least.”

 

Leo clenches involuntarily at that, a dreamy smile spreading across his face. “When _you’re_ ready. I’m here for your pleasure, right?”

 

“You _are_ my pet,” Eichi happily agrees, sighing as he collapses back. “But the _problem_ is I never want you off of my prick. Troubling, when there’s no _way_ we’re going to be allowed to stay in High Harbor for long, and you need to get on a horse later.”

 

“Oh. Haha. Maybe sidesaddle. With a biiiiig pillow.” Leo laughs. “How are you feeling? Still hungry?”

 

A vague, unreadable look passes over Eichi’s face before he smoothes it over, and he shrugs, thumbing over Leo’s hips. “I’m always hungry. Mmn, up and off, brat.”

 

Leo manages up, and then his thighs abruptly collapse, and he falls to the side rather than managing a good ‘off.’ “This is fine,” he mutters into the pillow. “I’m fine, this is good.”

 

Eichi snorts out a laugh, and rolls Leo the rest of the way onto his stomach, stuffing a pillow underneath his stomach to hike his hips up. “You’re cute,” he simply says, heaving himself up. “And a mess. First things first—“

 

He settles down without skipping a beat, his hands closing around Leo’s thighs to hold him still when his tongue drags over that twitching, leaking hole, lapping up the mess he’d left behind.

 

Leo’s world flips upside down, and not just physically, when the wall suddenly turns into the ceiling in his vision. His body heats suddenly, the sheer idea of what Eichi is doing so _sinful_ , even compared to what they usually do, that he can only bite his own hand, stifling a squeal.

 

 _Those are cute noises._ Eichi’s lips twitch, and his tongue licks up another, leaking trail of bitter fluid before he lets it snake inside. It _might_ be a bit longer than a normal human tongue, oops, and he takes his time licking Leo clean, his hands relentlessly firm, pulling Leo back before he can even think of squirming away.

 

Leo’s head flops back, his body gone rigid in startled, overwhelmed pleasure, held firm by Eichi’s iron grip. He’s helpless to resist, not entirely sure he would if he could, and he gnaws frantically at his hand, his cock twitching in exhausted interest between his spread thighs. Eichi’s tongue plunders him _gorgeously_ , stealing Leo’s breath, making his toes curl, and he can’t even protest, as good as it feels. “Shiiiit,” he whimpers, voice breaking. “Oh, fuck, oh, gods, you…”

 

Eichi pulls back after a moment—not because he needs air, but because he can _feel_ the way Leo twitches and trembles with each lick, and it’s merciful to stop. “ _Can_ you even come, if I keep going?” he asks, amused. “Though I think you’re nice and clean here now…well, what I can reach. The rest is all in your belly.”

 

“Leave it there,” Leo groans, collapsing in a puddle of goo on his back, chest rising and falling. “Nnh, I’ve never…had any seed, coming that many times, but it still feels pretty much the same.”

 

“Interesting…mine just keeps coming up, isn’t that nice.” Eichi smiles languidly, much like a cat that’s got the cream, his fingers stroking slowly over Leo’s thighs. “You’re very charming when you’re like this. Has no one ever done that, really?”

 

“Despite the nicknames it would be very sexy if people called me,” Leo breathes, grabbing Eichi and tugging him down, “I’m really _not_ a slut king. And Izumi doesn’t like to do anything too dirty.”

 

“…He’s a slut, though,” Eichi wryly says, letting Leo pull him down. “That’s…sort of the point? Oh, well. I’ll do it, then. My tongue’s longer when I want it to be, anyway.”

 

“I…I think that’s hot?”

 

“Do you?” Eichi’s eyebrows raise as he settles down onto his side, draping a possessive arm over Leo’s hip. “You know this form is entirely arbitrary, right? I mean, I’ve certainly set it in stone over the years, but when it cracks, it’s not pretty.”

 

Leo frowns speculatively. “Do any of your forms lay eggs?”

 

“Alas, no. I’m mostly a gross, black husk of a lizard, but I don’t lay eggs.” Eichi shakes out his hand, and regular, perfectly trimmed nails transform to black talons, the skin starting to fade from black to grey up his hand as well. “You’ve got a thing for reptiles, you know.”

 

“Hmm. Not sure,” Leo says slowly, watching that grotesque hand trace over his own pale skin. “Turn into a giant lizard and fuck me and we’ll find out. Wait, do you have a weird prick?”

 

“Yeees, but I’m not going to fuck you with it,” Eichi hedges, his hand filtering back to normal, pale and elegant and long-fingered. “It’s as big as my arm, at least. And has scales. You definitely have a thing for reptiles. You’re married to a half-drake, you keep a dragon as a pet, and then there’s _me._ Though I do greatly prefer being a dog.”

 

“I haven’t had sex with the dragon, or with his two pricks that spit seed that burns,” Leo protests. “Hmm. Maybe I think a reptile might lay eggs in me. When you say as big as your arm, are we talking width or length? Are the scales sharp?”

 

Eichi’s lips purse. “It’s not happening. I’m not telling you more, you’re too interested. I’m _beautiful_ like this.”

 

“Totally beautiful,” Leo assures him, far too late. “I mean, come on, way more than reptiles, I’m into really, _really_ beautiful men, right?”

 

“If you keep saying it, it might be true,” Eichi drawls, drumming his fingers slowly against his cheek. “I look like an angel, a _real_ angel, like the seraphim that are now extinct, don’t you think? Humans like that, it’s why I’ll always be popular.”

 

Leo shrugs. “If they’re extinct, how do I know what they looked like? Why do you look like that, anyway, if you’re the opposite, right?”

 

“Ask a paladin, they know what seraphim looked like,” Eichi airily says, reaching out to tug on a strand of Leo’s hair. “I look like this because humans like it. No one’s going to like something that _looks_ like a demon. It’s instinctive, after so long.”

 

“How did you pick it, in the first place?” Leo asks, genuinely curious. “Like, did you make yourself look like someone you already knew? Or did you make it from scratch? Weren’t people taller back when you were young? Did you keep making yourself taller, or were you just a _giant_ back then?”

 

“You’re just short,” Eichi says, amused. “Over time, I shaped this body into what I liked, and into what humans liked. That’s all. I knew what seraphims looked like in human form, and I wanted to look like that…archdemons and seraphims are basically the same thing, you know. Just one fell down into the depths, and one didn’t. My wings even look like a seraphim’s wings, which I think is a nice touch.”

 

“Your wings?” Leo eyes him skeptically. “I’ve never seen you fly. I feel like I’d have remembered.”

 

“Mm, that’s because I never have around you. Do you want to see them? They’re fluffy.”

 

The word “fluffy” is deeply intriguing, and Leo nods. “Can you bring them out in here? Or do we have to go outside? I heard that if a human had wings big enough to lift it up they’d have to be five times as wide as we are long, but that doesn’t sound right.”

 

“Sounds about right, but I’ll just keep them folded,” Eichi reassures him, and he sits up, pushing his hair back and out of his face as his wings flutter into being from his back, pure white and with layers and layers of feathers. They’re large enough to trail off the bed, even when folded. “See? Fluffy.”

 

Leo’s face brightens, transfixed with eager interest, and he reaches out immediately, running his fingers through feathers that feel less delicate than he’d feared. “They’re… _really_ pretty,” he whispers, awed. “No wonder I thought you were an angel, when I was a kid. Can you fly for real?”

 

“Mmhm. They’re not just for show, you know.” Eichi grins, swinging one wing forward and catching Leo up in it, as if it’s one much larger, stronger arm to wrap him up in. “They’re pretty warm, too. You can hide in there.”

 

Leo rolls happily into that hold, snuggling into the fluffiness of the wing. “Or fall asleep in it,” he says enthusiastically. “Are you strong enough to carry me when you fly? How come you don’t fly more often? If I could do it, I’d never stop.”

 

“It uses a lot of magic, and I’m hungry,” Eichi wryly says, flopping down onto his back on the bed and sending a flurry of feathers flying in the process. He folds his wings forward and around Leo, creating a neat bundle out of him. “But maybe later, I can take you.”

 

“You don’t have to work too hard,” Leo says, stifling a yawn. In his defense, the feathers are comfortable, and he’s kind of sleepy. “Mama already took me, anyway, so I know how to fly.”

 

“Shh. We’re not going to talk about him,” Eichi hums, stroking a hand down Leo’s back. “I’m in a good mood.”

 

“You shouldn’t be so sensitive,” Leo says seriously. “It’s not like anyone’s going to steal me away from you. They can’t. You can feel that, right?”

 

“I’ll be possessive if I want to be,” Eichi sniffs. “But it’s not even a matter of that. I hate dragons. You can’t change my mind.”

 

Leo shrugs. “Okay. I just have a thing for lizards, or so I’ve been told.”

 

“You’ve definitely got a thing for lizards.” Eichi twists onto his side, squishing Leo into his chest. “Which is fine. Just have a thing for me.”

 

“I do.” Something occurs to Leo, and he swallows suddenly, mouth dry. “Hey, Eichi.”

 

“Mm.” Eichi blows a feather off of Leo’s head. “What?”

 

“I’m human.”

 

“Yeees…and tasty. I’m aware.”

 

“You…you’re really old, right? So I’m assuming you don’t, like, age.”

 

“Not really, no. Don’t worry, if you start to get old and wrinkly, I’ll drag you to the Shadowlands once and for all.”

 

“But I’m still human. I’ll still age. I’ll still die, what are you going to do?”

 

“In the Shadowlands, it’ll be different. Humans age much differently there. Also, we’ll use that little half-breed of yours and his magic. You aren’t going to die anytime soon.”

 

Leo looks suspiciously up at him. “Is that…good? I don’t want to live forever, that sounds super weird. Humans aren’t meant to.”

 

“You’re _my_ human. That’s different.”

 

“Um, is it? Ehhh, Izumi already said he fixed my first wrinkle, was he telling the truth? Can he do that?”

 

“Probably. And yes, it’s different,” Eichi cheerfully says. squeezing Leo into his chest. “You’re not allowed to die.”

 

“But I don’t want to be old and wrinkly forever! At least freeze me when I’m still pretty!”

 

“Obviously I’ll make sure you stay pretty. Don’t be silly, I’m going to set this pretty face of yours in stone and then we can just go off to the Shadowlands and you’ll more or less never age.”

 

Satisfied with this, Leo flops down against the fluffiness of the wing, burrowing into it. “That is acceptable. There, now we have a plan.”

 

“Of course, that was always the plan.” Eichi sighs, propping his chin up into one hand. “You’re very cute when you bury yourself in there like that.”

 

“Every time I’m cold or uncomfy, just give me these,” Leo says seriously. “I need them. This is the best. Surround me with this, constantly.”

 

“I should’ve put them on you a long time ago. Then maybe you would’ve been a much more adorable, more obedient prince.”

 

“Are you saying I’m not good the way I am? Obviously wrong!”

 

“You’re cute, but bossy. And I like getting my way.”

 

“Focus on the part where I’m cute, though? Much more important, I’m sure we can all agree.”

 

Eichi heaves a long sigh, his head lolling back. “I _suppose_. But I really, _really_ like getting my way. I’m always right, after all.”

 

The already cracked door creaks open, and Eichi’s eyes swing towards it, immediately sharpening, a low growl welling up in his chest. He lurches up, seconds after Rei steps inside, and Rei’s back hits the wall a moment later courtesy of Eichi’s talons being at his throat. Instead of making a move to defend himself, Rei’s hands go up in immediate surrender, no matter how doing so obviously makes him twitch. “I’m _just_ here to check on Leo,” he lowly says. “And talk to you both about leaving at some point tomorrow. We can’t stay here for long.”

 

Eichi’s eyes glitter, his fingers unmoving from Rei’s throat. “You could’ve killed him.”

 

“But I didn’t. Now we’re both guilty of that, shall we call it even?”

 

“Owww…” Leo might be complaining a little louder than he needs to, mostly to get Eichi’s attention. “You dumped me on the floor, _mean_ , bring the wings back, I was comfy. Hi, Rei.”

 

Rei wiggles his fingers. “Hello, Leo.”

 

Eichi scowls, lingering a moment longer before withdrawing his hand, though his eyes remain locked on Rei. “I’m not interested in talking to you,” he bluntly says, feathers literally ruffling. “Not right now.”

 

He strides back to bed, scoops Leo up with one hand, and wraps him back up as he climbs into bed. “If you want to talk about plans, I definitely don’t want to talk to you. Send Kaoru back over here.”

 

“He’s not coming North with us,” Rei patiently says, rubbing at his neck as he leans back into the wall. “So _we_ should—“

 

“No.”

 

It’s an obvious, obnoxious power-play. _I’ll talk to something that belongs to you, but not to you._ Rei tries not to roll his eyes, and tries even more not to be irritated that it _does_ irritate him.

 

“Rei,” Leo says, nestling back into Eichi’s wings, eyes heavy-lidded, “where’s Izumi? I thought he’d have come to see me. Is he all right? I wanted to go see him, but…I’m so _tired_ …”

 

“He’s completely fine. Cranky, when I last saw him, but fine. He’s been handling a few medical issues around here.” Rei watches Leo, tracking him carefully. “I think he also wanted to give you your space, considering all that has happened. My apologies; I never wanted to cause you any harm. Consider this a debt I need to repay.”

 

Leo nuzzles into Eichi’s neck, eyes sliding closed as he inhales deeply. “You understand, Rei,” he murmurs, arms sliding around Eichi’s waist. “How it feels when you finally get to be together after years. You’ve got to know how that feels.”

 

“I do.” Rei’s eyes lid, folding his arms. “When you’re done reacquainting yourselves, I’ll let Izumi know. And if you promise not to take another bite out of my husband, you can speak to him, if that’s what you want, for whatever reason.”

 

Eichi winds his arms firmly about Leo, tugging him a bit closer as he hooks his chin over the top of his head. “He’s tasty, but I’ll behave, if I must. I want to talk to that half-breed, too. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him.”

 

“That’s up to him, not you.”

 

“I could always go talk to your mate instead—“

 

“Don’t,” Rei shortly interrupts, holding up a hand, “start that again. I’m trying to give you the benefit of the doubt here.”

 

“I decided Eichi can talk to Izumi,” Leo proclaims, as if both of them were just waiting until he decided to give an opinion. “So if you do see Izumi, let him know, okay? And Rei…things are going to be different, now.” He strokes a hand down Eichi’s chest, fingertips in the dip between his pectorals. “Can you see it?”

 

“…I see that he’s being very sweet to you, and I’m glad,” Rei quietly says, turning back towards the door. “But it would be kind of you to train him how to behave around other people. I’ll let Izumi know.”

 

The door clicks shut, and Eichi makes a face at it. “He’s always so moody,” he sniffs. “Highly unpleasant.”

 

“He’s better when you’re not around,” Leo assures him. “Mm, you didn’t comment. I’m letting you talk to Izumi. I decided I’m never giving either of you up.”

 

“Ooh, you’re acquiring a harem, then. I’ve always wanted to be a concubine.” Eichi nuzzles down into Leo’s hair, inhaling deeply. “Honestly, if he just let me have a little _bite_ of Shu, I’d drop it,” he grouses. “It seems unfair, after what he did to you.”

 

“He did it to save my life,” Leo reminds him, even as a smile spreads across his face, and he snuggles against Eichi’s body. “You’d be bothering Shu just for fun. Leave him alone, I like Shu a lot.”

 

“You wouldn’t understand. Fae blood is so…” Eichi trails off, sighing, and flops backward, dragging Leo down into his chest. “So, _so_ sweet. Not filling, maybe, but very delicious.”

 

Leo huffs, and tugs on Eichi’s hair. “What do you think would have happened if you’d bonded with Shu, and me with Rei? Would you have, like, starved to death?”

 

“…Hold on, give me a minute. I need to think about that for awhile, that’s a big fantasy of mine, thank you.”

 

A low growl is his response, and Leo reaches down, pinching the head of Eichi’s cock between two fingers. “Are you saying you’d _rather_ be with that pink thing?”

 

Eichi yelps, then growls, flipping Leo over and swiftly pinning him, arms shoved down above his head. “You be _nice_ to that, or I’m not shoving it in you any time soon,” he warns, giving Leo’s wrists a squeeze. “If I preferred that, I’d _say it._ My fantasy, for your information, is to have Shu of the esteemed Itsuki household at my mercy, and if he was my mate, that would be the case.”

 

“You,” Leo accuses, though his eyes are dilated, blown wide with sudden excitement, “have Leo of the Tsukinaga household, _King of the Realm_ , at your very willing and eager mercy, but you’re thinking about a tailor.”

 

Eichi’s smile glitters, sweet but decidedly dangerous. “I have you, and I’m thrilled. So help me, I _do_ love that he hates me. It produces very fun reactions.”

 

“Keep talking about him,” Leo says, faux-sweetly, “and you’ll know what it feels like to make love to someone who wants to kill you.”

 

“That’s hot. Come now, haven’t you ever had someone you just _loved_ picking on?”

 

“Tsukasa,” Leo says immediately. “But I don’t want to fuck him.”

 

“Seems like your type, though. Prissy, well-bred, well-dressed, fun to tease…ah, look. We _share_ a type!”

 

“He’s married to my little sister,” Leo points out. “That’s not an offense I can overlook.”

 

“…I’m not following, but all right, sure. Do humans ever sort of—look at people, and just _know_ that they’re terrible, fussy bottoms in bed?”

 

“Not if they’re married to my little sister!” Leo pauses, then frowns. “Do I look like a terrible fussy bottom? I’m not even sure I know what you mean by that.”

 

“You look like a slut,” Eichi airily says, leaning down to kiss Leo before he can comment. “Sorry, the verbal ladder was a bit skewed there. Tsukasa is busy fucking a terrible, fussy bottom—not your sister, I don’t know anything about what she likes. I was just thinking about Shu, and what he _must_ be like in bed. Some people are just so—uptight, you know? I can’t help but think about it.”

 

“I don’t really want to hear much more about your fantasies about Shu,” Leo grumbles. “You know why? There’s one reason.”

 

Eichi pouts. “Whyyy? Trade with me, tell me your embarrassing fantasies, I’ll even entertain a couple about Rei.”

 

“No! I’m mad,” Leo says, scowling now, “because you’ve been so bad to him, you ruined any chance we had for a foursome! And I wanted one!”

 

Eichi pauses at that, opening his mouth, then shutting it as he contemplates that. “Hmm. Well. Yes, I ruined that a long time ago. Rei and I—heh, you know you’ve fucked up when even a sex wizard won’t fuck you anymore.” He sounds a little wistful, less angry than he usually does when Rei’s name is thrown about. “And Shu, ah, hmm.”

 

“Shu _definitely_ won’t fuck you,” Leo says bluntly. “No way. He won’t even fuck me now, because I’m with you. Which is a shame, because I’ve always wanted to see if he’s as good at kissing as I secretly suspect.”

 

“He likes your half-breed. Let’s just watch them fuck.”

 

Leo lets out a wistful sigh. “That sounds nice, doesn’t it? I wish they would.”

 

“…But who puts it in? That’s the real question. Then again, I wonder that with Rei and Shu all the time.”

 

“Rei does,” Leo answers automatically, then pauses. “I mean, he does, he told me about it, but I don’t know about Izumi and Shu. Rei and him have that bond, and apparently Rei is the, uh, top end?”

 

“That’s not significant, as far as I know, remember?” Eichi mildly says, thoroughly amused all the same. “And I know that Rei does, which is why it’s so funny to me. You knooow, he said he was in your debt now. Call in that favor sometime in the form of a foursome.”

 

Leo sighs, indulging in the thought for a moment. “I’m sure we can at least get Izumi to play with us. I had a threesome while you were dead, did I tell you?”

 

“ _No_ , but you should.”

 

“Mm, with Rei and Kaoru.” Leo actually blushes a little. “Rei was a girl part of the time.”

 

It’s a bit easier to talk about Rei in the context of sex, especially now that the thrall isn’t hovering around and making him constantly cranky. Eichi’s eyebrows raise at that, and he shifts, rolling to the side, a wing draped lazily over Leo as he runs a finger down Leo’s chest. “Was that your practice in knocking girls up?” he can’t help but ask, amused. “Didn’t work, huh.”

 

“It worked when it counted,” Leo mutters. “I didn’t want to get in front of Izumi and not be able to…you know. Perform. Rei’s got _way_ bigger tits, though.”

 

“Yes, I know,” Eichi says, his lips twitching up. “I’m familiar. But he’s supposed to look like a whore, so it suits. How was the paladin, though? I’ve always wanted a piece, but that’s a bit dangerous for me.”

 

A little shiver snakes through Leo at the memory. “Good,” he says, considering, “but not exactly what I wanted at the time. Not far, but I wanted you, so…”

 

“ _Good_ isn’t a very good descriptor. If you’re going to tell me about a threesome, _tell_ me about a threesome, you brat,” Eichi grouses. “But I do accept the ego trip you’re offering me.”

 

Leo’s flush deepens, and he shifts, burying his face in Eichi’s chest. “I was…horny and kind of sad,” he admits. “I hadn’t seen Izumi for a long time, and I kept _feeling_ you moving around, but I didn’t want everyone to think I was crazy. But I still kept…I don’t know. Thinking about you. And Mama never gives me the feeling that he’s interested, so I hadn’t had sex in a _while_.”

 

“Dragons usually aren’t,” Eichi idly says, shifting to stroke his fingers down Leo’s spine, petting him slowly. “They only react to other dragons…or in certain magical situations. So, anyway, you weren’t fucking the dragon but you were horny and Rei was available, like you do.”

 

Leo huffs, his bangs ruffling. “So…I asked Rei to fuck me. And he brought Kaoru. And I was embarrassed, and asked them for…something, but they gave me…something else, and it was good, but I was still pretty embarrassed.”

 

“…What did you ask for?” Eichi asks. “What did you _get?_ Are you really still embarrassed about this? Le~o,” he hums, leaning down to nuzzle into Leo’s hair. “I’m your mate, I’m your dog, you can te~ll me.”

 

“It’s one thing to do it, it’s another thing to talk about it when I’m not hard,” Leo grumbles, burying his face in Eichi’s chest again, absentmindedly gnawing on one nipple.

 

“Ah—ow? Are you trying to nurse?”

 

Leo shrugs, and rests his cheek on Eichi’s chest. “I asked them to pretend like I wasn’t even there,” he says softly. “To just…let me serve them and ignore me.”

 

“Ahhhh. You picked the wrong pair for that one,” Eichi says with a snort, running his fingers along Leo’s scalp. “I can do that sometime, if that’s what you want. Though I think I give you what you want already.”

 

Leo shrugs. “If I want it a certain way you’re not giving me, I’ll ask you for it. It was just a…a whim, I don’t know. I thought it would be hot.”

 

“And instead you ended up with a face full of tits, huh. I mean, I guess that could be worse.”

 

“It was a surprise, for sure, but…hey, at least now I know. I definitely like women, heh.”

 

“You didn’t know? But women are so…easy.”

 

Leo looks up at him, head slightly tilted. “Do people really think a king can go running around with girls? What if I made a bastard? The line of succession is murky enough. Plus…I’ve always, I mean, until you, it’s…it’s just Izumi.”

 

Eichi’s eyebrows slowly raise. “You…do realize that your father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and so forth—they all had mistresses. Every last one of them. _Several_ of them.”

 

Leo gazes up at him, face unreadable. “Yeah. And I know what they did to keep those bastards from causing trouble. Some of them, anyway. The ones I was alive for. Servants talk.”

 

“Your older ancestors were smarter. They just had wizards end the pregnancy.” Eichi sighs, his shoulders heaving in a bored shrug. “You’re a more responsible king than them, certainly. But you’re already going to have some murky succession—you married someone with bastards.”

 

“Mm, I’ve thought about that,” Leo says slowly. “I have to talk to Izumi about it, for sure. But he’s kept pretty quiet about them, and they live in the North, where they don’t care about bastards. I don’t think he’d mind saying they’re his younger sisters, the oldest one is only thirteen or fourteen years younger than he is. I mean, he’s a bastard himself.”

 

“And a half-breed, so depending on where you are, that makes it matter less—or matter more,” Eichi mildly points out. “Not to nitpick. What’s done is done, after all, you’ve already married him. I just can’t help but remind you of the issues you might have, I’ve advised too many kings.”

 

“Once I have a child with red hair, people will grumble less,” Leo says with absolute certainty. “That’s what they said about my father. There were always rumors he couldn’t sire a son, until I was born. Then no one cared what he did.”

 

“And if Izumi can only produce children that look like him? What then?”

 

Leo grimaces. “I’ve been trying not to think about that,” he admits. “That…wouldn’t be very good.”

 

“Come up with a contingency plan anyway. Are you going to ask a wizard to put a permanent glamour and risk that somehow being uncovered in a coup? Or are you going to need to nullify the marriage and take some proper human to bed instead? Or are you going to change the laws about red hair and risk pissing everyone off? You _have_ to think about it,” Eichi warns, giving his chest a little flick. “You’re king.”

 

Leo stares at Eichi, as if seeing him for the first time. “It’s like in my dreams,” he says softly. “When you’d come to me, when you were dead. Before Rei cut me off. You always gave me really good advice. You’re the only one who ever understood anything about being king, and you weren’t even real.”

 

“It’s almost like I’ve done this for centuries,” Eichi sweetly says, thumbing Leo’s chin. “Running the Academy wasn’t so different, so I do sympathize with your problems. But beyond that, I’ve seen many kings on the throne, and aided them. I’ve never been their dog before, though, so you’ll get my unfiltered opinions. I want what you want.”

 

Leo’s chest puffs up. Having the attentions and the loyalty of someone as powerful of Eichi has an appeal, for certain, and he nods slowly. “I could…really use an advisor who knew what he was talking about,” he admits. “What do you think I should do, if the child is silver?”

 

“You have plenty of men who know what they’re talking about, in theory. They’re just young, and haven’t lived it yet. Mm, but, the way I see it—you have one option, and that’s about it. It’s to be completely honest. If the child has silver hair, keep it that way, and _publicly_ have the parentage tested by a wizard that isn’t me. Make a spectacle of it—push that it’s a good omen or something, and make that prophet Nightcloak sign off on it. Sure, it might be a lie, but if you can get the public excited, that’s better than them doubting it.” Eichi shrugs one shoulder lazily. “If you try to hide its hair with magic, that’s a problem. You’ll piss some wizard off at some point and that’ll be the end of it when they reveal it because they’re pissed.”

 

“…You think I should declare the child as mine no matter what,” Leo says quietly. “I’m not sure I deserve that much credit. There’s a reason I’ve been keeping the marriage quiet, and why Izumi’s at High Harbor instead of in the Palace right now.”

 

“What, because he’s a man? He’s a half-breed. You’re already going to piss everyone off, no matter what you do. At least you’re fucking a half-breed, and there’s a _reason_ why the hair would be weird. Unless there’s something else you haven’t mentioned to me?”

 

Leo’s head tilts to the side. “Other reason? Mm, no, not that I can think of. Izumi wouldn’t do that to me.”

 

“Then get over it,” Eichi bluntly says. “You kicked out half your council because they wouldn’t let you marry a man. If you’re going to keep trying to hide it, what’s the point? There’s always going to be someone that hates it, but you’ll never win them over with your choices. Win them over with tax law instead, or some equally boring equivalent of being a decent king.”

 

Leo folds in on himself, arms and legs, eyes cast down. “I didn’t kick them out for that,” he says softly. “I should have. But I believed that all the priests were right, and no one would ever…”

 

He swallows, and ducks his head. “I did it because of the slavery. They kept making excuses. They just kept taking money from enemies of the crown and saying sweet words to my face while they hurt people, I couldn’t rely on any of them to even care about the people they were representing.”

 

“…Maybe don’t tell Izumi that, because my guess is you told him a slightly different story,” Eichi drawls, his fingers slowly drumming against his own cheek as he thinks. “Not that

both aren’t valid reasons to kick them out. Either way, they’re fucking with you.”

 

“I mean, I hated the way they treated me,” Leo says quickly. “It’s just…I thought if I did it because they were fucking with _me_ , that wouldn’t be the right reason, and maybe they’d be right. I don’t want to be a king who just does whatever he wants.”

 

“Are you the only man you know that wanted to marry another man?”

 

Leo flushes, guilt flashing across his features. “I…let someone else be the first one,” he admits. “Prince Adonis, in the Sandlands, he has some nobleman as a husband. He was so brave, he didn’t care what anyone said.”

 

“Mmhm. Then it wasn’t just you they were fucking with, is what I’m trying to point out. Dismissing the laws that prohibited such things didn’t just affect _you_ , Your Majesty. Rei’s a woman on his marriage record, did you know that?”

 

“No…but only because I didn’t think about it.” Leo shifts, a little uncomfortable. “I just figured there was some shapeshifting, I don’t know, or they did it in the Shadowlands, did you know he’s had sex with his own brother?”

 

“Yeah, I’ve had sex with him, too.”

 

“But—but you’re not his _brother_ ,” Leo protests, face full of revulsion.

 

Eichi’s head slowly tilts to the side. “They’re…demons? And only half-brothers, besides. With humans, I understand it to be a problem, but it’s the human half they don’t even share, so it shouldn’t matter at all…”

 

Leo shakes his head. “I figured demons wouldn’t understand. So…all right. I was wrong not to change the laws sooner, but I really did think that the priests would lead a revolt. That’s honestly why I let Adonis go first, the Sandlands royal family and the Hinterlands nobility have a lot of sway with the priests.”

 

“Priests are very, very easy to sway regardless of who you are, but I understand why you acted that way. They’ll be more malleable now that I’m back,” Eichi says dismissively. “So you shouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.”

 

Leo flops over, resting his head on Eichi’s lap. “Good dog,” he says sweetly. “What else don’t I have to worry about, now that you’re back?”

 

“Don’t say ‘good dog’, I like it too much,” Eichi grouses, stroking Leo’s hair. “Let’s see…anyone lying to you or manipulating you through the use of magic, for sure. Plenty of non-magical humans try to do that, even. They hire wizards or have an Enhanced charm something for them. Also, no one is going to _ever_ want to declare war on the Capital.”

 

“Mm? Never?” Leo grins. “Is there a specific reason for that?”

 

“Because leveling human armies is easy.”

 

“Oh. That’s incredibly ominous, thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome. I’m _very_ good, Leo. There’s a reason why I was the Emperor for so long.”

 

“Because you’re crazy, powerful, and prone to rival-eradicating violence?”

 

“Rude. I’m powerful and capable and _very_ good at talking to people.”

 

“Really? Then how come everyone dislikes you?”

 

“Only Rei’s sycophants dislike me.”

 

Leo blinks. “You can’t really think that. After all those people you killed? I’ve heard like a dozen people swear to end your life on their parents’ graves.”

 

“Let me rephrase. The only people that can affect me that dislike me are Rei’s sycophants, and even then, it’s questionable. His Nightcloak friends, certainly, they’re annoying. But the Enhanced he keeps as pets? Eh.”

 

“Oh, like Keito?”

 

“He’s not Rei’s, he’s mine, and he’s moody and old.”

 

“I meant because he came with you to the Capital?”

 

“Yes, and? He’s mine, he doesn’t dislike me, he’s just mad I won’t run away with him into the sunset.”

 

“Well, fuck him,” Leo says with a smile. “He doesn’t get to snuggle into your wings, so I’m the real winner. I always beat him anyway.”

 

“He’s a total traitor, anyway,” Eichi airily says, though there’s still a twinge of annoyance behind his words. “He and Rei had a fling years ago. Gross. After I _told him_ Rei was no good, and he still went there anyway. Whatever, I’m the best. You’re so _lucky_ that I’m your dog.”

 

“Mm, I’m pretty sure you’re lucky you have such a sweet and friendly master,” Leo says cheerfully. “I’m cute. And I won’t misuse you.”

 

“You’re very cute, but you can misuse me. Sounds fun.”

 

“Eh? Like how?”

 

“I’m fun to use for intimidation. I also am an early riser, so you can send me to all the meetings you don’t want to wake up for, but then you have to repay me by sucking my dick, that’s all.”

 

“Ooh, a very hard bargain.” Leo runs the tip of his tongue over his teeth around the inside of his mouth. Well, that’s always been a feature of their bond—the most prominent feature, as far as Leo has ever been able to tell. “But now,” he says slowly, turning the words over in his mouth, “I’m thinking about the taste of it.”

 

“That’s because you’re a slut,” Eichi says, thoroughly amused, his fingers absently tugging when they snag on tangles of Leo’s hair. “If you want it, you can have it. I’ve always been generous.”

 

“Generous?” Leo asks, looking up through his long lashes. “I thought you were my dog, at my beck and call. You shouldn’t be generous, you should be available.”

 

“Semantics! I’m available, then, Your Majesty. Certainly I’ve made that clear by now?”

 

“Ehhh, I don’t really care,” Leo finally says, after thinking about it, and simply wriggles his way down, mouthing over the top of Eichi’s thigh, then down to lick the head of his soft cock. “I’m just taking it, thanks.”

 

“Fine by me, I’m grateful all the same,” Eichi sighs, collapsing back into a pile of his own wings, using them as a delightfully fluffy pillow to lean into as his fingers twist up through Leo’s hair and his cock immediately starts to harden underneath the drag of that warm tongue.

 

It’s unusual for Leo to be able to take most of Eichi’s cock in his mouth, and he savors the experience, sucking it down while it’s still sweetly soft between his lips. It’s almost got a different taste, and his tongue delves and swirls, tasting and laving all of the skin he can reach. He lets out a sigh through his nose, and lets his hands creep up and down, smoothing over taut skin, just savoring the unhurried moment.

 

Each lick and suck makes his cock twitch, starting to slowly fill to hardness between Leo’s lips. Eichi shivers hard, dragging his fingers against Leo’s scalp, petting and stroking him. “You’re still good at that,” he murmurs, his eyes lidding. “Remember when I taught you how to take all of it for the first time? That was fun.”

 

Leo pulls off with a slow suck, making it noisy, loving the way the sound makes him hard. “I thought I was going to pass out,” he says with a grin, lips sticky. “If I stop being good at it, you can just use it like another hole.”

 

He hovers for a moment, as if he’s going to say something else, but the heat that rises in him at saying just that is too much, and he delves back down, mouth wide, suckling at that thick cock when it swells against his tongue.

 

“Ah, fuck…” Eichi sucks in a sharp breath, his head lolling back for a moment as he _savors_ the way Leo sucks him in. The harder he gets, the less Leo’s mouth can cover, and it makes his fingers tighten in Leo’s hair, not tugging or yanking yet, but insistent all the same. “Even like this, you’re good at it. Mmn, that’s a good boy, try to take a little more.”

 

 _Even like this?_ Leo thinks, amused, but he’ll forgive a little enthusiasm when Eichi is hard and thick in his mouth, when it feels like the only thing he needs in life, far more than breathing. He lets out a small, choked, eager noise, wriggling himself down with the press of Eichi’s hands, consumed by the desire to make Eichi happy, to make it _good_ , to be a sweet good hole for Eichi, to drag the bittersalt taste out of him with clever flicks of his tongue.

 

Eichi’s fingers pull, unable to help himself when Leo makes that particular _noise_ , yanking him further down onto his cock as his hips arch up, sliding it further down his throat. “Just—like that,” he breathes, slow, steady rolls of his hips making use of Leo’s mouth. “You’re so good. Forget getting this after those meetings, you can just sit under the desk and do this while I work.”

 

That image is so strong—Eichi’s always so good at dragging up images in his head, making them sound real—that Leo twists, shifting so he can rub his cock against the bedsheets as it rises to full hardness. The taste of Eichi is overwhelming, and it makes Leo’s mouth water, makes him suck harder, desperate for more.

 

“I should be telling you to be quieter about that, but maybe it would be good for some of your council to hear what you’re up to,” Eichi breathes, his fingers pressing into the back of Leo’s head, urging him down. It’s hard not to shove his cock entirely down Leo’s throat, but half is good enough, especially when the occasional thrust of his hips gets him a little bit deeper into that hot, slick mouth. “They’re all going to know you’re a slut, you know.”

 

A choked whine comes from Leo’s mouth, tears welling in his eyes as he delves down, letting Eichi shove his head around, his own cock rubbing shamelessly against the sheets like he’s some kind of uninhibited animal. Only Eichi gets him _this_ worked up, just by sitting there and providing cock, and the idea of how _easy_ that makes himself makes Leo even harder. He blinks tears away, letting Eichi spin him tales of his own degradation, of his own humiliation, each of them making him squirm in embarrassed heat.

 

“You really—ahh—are made to just swallow that down, aren’t you? It looks like it shouldn’t fit, but I think the same thing about shoving it in your ass, so…” Eichi’s breath hiccups, his cheeks flushed as he thrusts up, shivering at the wet, choked noises that escape muffled from Leo’s throat. “You must really want me to give you something to drink, don’t you, kitty?”

 

It’s a garbled, eager affirmative noise that comes out of Leo through his nose, and his fingers dig in to Eichi’s thighs, as if he could possibly push Eichi away if he wanted to. There’s a power in Eichi’s body, something sheerly physical when he’s so used to thinking of Eichi as a creature of magic and willpower. When Eichi gets like _this_ , it makes Leo choke and cough, breathy and greedy, and he pulls up, resting the tip against his tongue, furiously working the rest of the shaft with his hand, all too ready for the “drink” he’s been promised.

 

Eichi almost yanks that warm, wet mouth back down, but this—this is even better somehow, watching how hungry and desperate Leo is for him to come, stroking his cock with those teary, hungry eyes glazed over. His cock pulses in Leo’s grasp, and his own fingers dig into the back of Leo’s neck, holding him in place when the next pulse pulls him over the edge, and he spills with a ragged, panting gasp, coating Leo’s tongue, thrusting up enough that each drip from his cock makes it harder for Leo to just swallow, and not make a mess out of himself.

 

When Eichi comes, it’s suddenly _too much_. Leo’s mouth is too full, his hand unable to hold on, his mouth so full that some comes out of his nose, a steady stream of tears streaming from his eyes. He gulps, but he’s shaky, raw, feeling utterly plundered as he sags back on his heels, hand coming to wipe at his face, dragging his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean. “Sorry,” he gasps, voice low and trembling. “It was too much, I’ll get better.”

 

Eichi’s hand swings down, grabbing Leo up by the arm and kissing him full on the mouth, sucking on his tongue in spite of (or maybe because) the bitter mess he’s made. “Why?” he breathes, licking a streak up Leo’s flushed cheek just because he can, tasting the salt of tears as much as his own come. “That was perfect. You’re such a good kitten.”

 

Leo shivers in Eichi’s hold, melting into his arms. “I missed some,” he murmurs, snuggling determinedly. “I spilled some. But tell me…tell me again I did good.”

 

“Lucky for you, I like it when you make a mess,” Eichi sighs, twisting slowly onto his side, dragging Leo into his chest as he settles down, thoroughly sated. “You’re perfect. Good kitty, very good.”

 

Leo squirms a little, still catching his breath, and starts rubbing the hard length of his cock against Eichi’s thigh, a sweetly rhythmic gesture. “Nnn…be sweet to your kitty, yeah?”

 

“Mmhm, you really are always so needy, aren’t you?” Eichi idly drags his thigh up, pressing it between Leo’s legs and against the hard line of his cock. He slides a hand up Leo’s chest, pinching one of his nipples gently, then pulling on it, feeling it harden further underneath his touch. “It’s cute.”

 

Leo exhales a low whine, shifting so he can rub better against Eichi’s thigh, eyelids fluttering as he’s toyed with. Eichi’s fingers are perfectly cruel, exactly where he needs them, and every stroke against Eichi’s thigh is a little slicker, a little more delicious. “Being good for you,” he mumbles, mouth a little slack. “Just—a second…”

 

“Is that really all it takes?” Eichi murmurs against Leo’s ear, nuzzling into his hair with his own breath escaping as warm, wet puffs against him. His fingers twist, pinch, tug, almost in time with the rutting of Leo’s hips. “Just me playing with your chest, like you’re a girl? You really are like a cat in heat, aren’t you…”

 

“I’ll be a girl for you,” Leo whimpers, eyes squeezed shut as he starts to hump down faster, deliberately pulling away from Eichi’s fingers, making the tug on his nipple even harder, sharper, dragging himself closer to the edge. “O-or, or your kitty in heat, only thing that’ll…make me feel better…is being bred, right?”

 

“Either way, you’re going to need to be bred.” Eichi plucks at one of those nipples, drawing it back as Leo obviously wants, only releasing it when it throbs underneath his touch. “Don’t worry, kitty,” he murmurs. “I’ll make _sure_ you’re full.” He ducks his head to get his mouth on that nipple instead, setting his teeth to it and suckling hard as he yanks Leo into the friction of his thigh.

 

There’s not much liquid at this point, but Leo tenses up, letting out a soft cry when Eichi plays with him, driving him to distraction, overwhelming his senses when he simply can’t hold on any longer. His head thunks down, teeth sinking into Eichi’s shoulder briefly. He tries to say something, but it’s a gargled mess, and he gives up, slumping down. “You,” he finally grunts.

 

“Me?” Eichi hums, rolling over to entirely squish Leo beneath him. “Mm. What about _you?_ ”

 

Leo shrugs. “Can’t see me. But I like looking at you.”

 

“Shhh. Stop talking, or I’ll need to have you _again._ ”

 

“Nooooo, I’m going to be so sore tomorrow…it sounds so much more romantic before you have to shit and then it _burns_ …”

 

“Then shut up,” Eichi breathes, stuffing Leo’s face into his chest. “You’re so much more refined when you don’t open your mouth.”

 

“That’s what I tell everyone! They give me weird looks when I do, though. And everyone asks if I heard it from you.”

 

“That’s because you did.”

 

“Did I? Is that where I got it?”

 

“Yes. I’ve thought it for awhile, you picked it up.”

 

“Ooh, does that mean we’re getting the mind-talking? Like Rei and Shu have?”

 

Eichi wrinkles his nose. “I doubt it. They were already prone to telepathy. We probably just…sort of blend thoughts after awhile.”

 

Leo smiles, satisfied. “I like to remember that you and me have the best sex out of everyone. That’s good for me.”

 

 


	25. Chapter 25

 

“Be on your best behavior, little one. We’re going to a party.”

 

Wataru may be in a young body, this odd new shape that makes him forget his Time Before, but he’s learned a few things about demon lords. One thing he knows, with absolute certainty, is that there are few and strange occasions for parties.

 

This one, it seems, is a large, and strange affair. Wataru tastes blood in the air long before he sees the towering castle, melting into the night at every turret. There’s human blood, and demon blood, and the blood of creatures Wataru has never seen or tasted before. The air ripples, and it’s easy enough to bend it towards him, coaxing each conversation to his ear. So, her name is Airi, this new Demon Queen, who has not only killed her strongest challengers, but managed to secure an heir already, a half-human Cambion. Wataru wonders whether she’ll strike the stars from the sky if the child dies, or if his Lord is really an unusual demon lord.

 

“Lord Achei,” the Queen purrs, tall and striking and astoundingly curved, looking down at Wataru’s lord from her dais. “I await your sacrifice.”

 

Wataru feels his Lord start next to him, and smells the acrid tang of fear. That amuses him, but he hides his smile. He hides every smile, in Achei. “My Queen,” Achei says, hesitant, “I have many mortals in my village—“

 

“You’ve killed all the beautiful women in your village, Achei, haven’t you?” Airi’s voice is as cold as a glacier, arrogant as a title. “You offer me those not fine enough to tempt you? Is this a challenge?”

 

Wataru hears the bloodlust in her voice, feels it rising in the room, and before his Lord can stammer and offer her the entire village, he straightens, then prostrates himself before her. “Great Queen,” he says, putting a lilt of song into his voice, fluttering white wings nearly appearing around him, “this humble one is your gift, from my Lord of the Firemount. It is my Lord’s greatest hope that you find me acceptable.”

 

He hears his Lord suck in a breath, tortured and ragged, and wonders vaguely if his Lord really does care for him, in his way.

 

Airi’s toe taps the dais. Clearly, she’s been hoping that most of her gusts will not offer anything good, and she’ll take challenge from them instead. “What makes you special?” she snaps.

 

“I come to you from the realm of Air,” Wataru says, letting magic spin in his words, crossing the space from his mouth to her ear. “It is my Lord’s hope that you will find this gift entertaining.” And he pulls a handkerchief from his sleeve, then blows on it. Swollen with the air, the handkerchief splits into two cloths, then resolves into two figures, dancing on air, before they turn into white-winged butterflies and burst into flight.

 

Airi stares down at him for a moment, then waves a hand. “Perhaps our Heir will find it amusing.”

 

One glance over Wataru’s shoulder shows him his last glimpse of the Lord of Achai, stricken and furious, before he’s taken to another, smaller hall, plunked down in front of a pale, dark-haired child with red eyes, perhaps ten years younger than himself.

 

“Your Highness,” the guard says, bowing to the little boy. “A gift, from your mother.”

 

The child in question likely has more hair than sense, given his size. All of that long, dark hair falls in heavy curls and waves, half of it clipped back to the nape of his neck, with the rest still rebelliously falling forward, black as night against the tell-tale, unusually white skin of a true, Bloodbred-lined Cambion. He eyes Wataru, visibly suspicious, most likely of the fact that Wataru smells _somewhat_ like food, but not…really.

 

“You don’t _smell_ like a human,” is the accusation that he offers up, climbing up and out of the sprawl he’s arranged himself into, heavy, dark robes fluttering around him and falling over his hands and pooling well past his feet. “What are you?”

 

Adrenaline pulses through Wataru’s veins, and his eyes flash, as if he can’t quite believe that he’d _managed_ it, actually gotten away from Achei after so many years. His eyes focus on the child, and he sits up onto his heels, picking at the frills at his cuffs. “Airbred, Highness,” he says promptly. “A taste is exquisite, but I hear a full meal can be lethal, to most species of demon. Shall I offer my neck?”

 

Instead of jumping at the chance for that, the child’s expression immediately shifts from suspicion to a sort of wary curiosity. “Airbred? Like…like the Fae breed? _Here?_ ”

 

He shoos the guard away with a flop of a sleeve, and eagerly inches closer to Wataru, obviously unconcerned (or unaware) of any possible danger. “Mother says my father was part Fae,” he says, staring up at Wataru through heavy lashes, then adds, wistfully, “But she ate him, eventually, so I don’t know anything else. What’s your name? Just call me Rei, ‘Highness’ is a little…”

 

“Wataru.” Wataru blurts it out, a little shaken by the sweetness that radiates off this boy, though he knows better than to let his guard down around any demon lord. “They call us Fae, in some places. Ah, you…you’re a bit…” His head tilts, long strands of blue hair falling about his folded knees. “There’s Fae, but there’s Greenbred in you, too—Nymph, I think they call it?”

 

Rei nods rapidly, flopping down in front of Wataru. “That’s it—she said he was half-Greenbred, and the rest was human…mostly? But Fae things, she said, which is why she finally gave up and ate him.” His eyes narrow as he looks Wataru up and down, contemplative. “Why didn’t she eat you, then? Even a taste, like you said…”

 

Wataru blinks down at the boy, and pulls a coin from thin air, letting it walk between his fingertips, sometimes hovering still in the air while his hand moves. “I’m not sure, Rei. It is Rei, isn’t it? She said she hoped you would find me amusing. Perhaps she was full?”

 

“She probably was just hoping you’d babysit me and then feed me,” Rei sourly says, watching Wataru’s parlor trick for a moment before looking back to his face. “She hates talking to me. You’re a lot older than you look, right? That’s how you’re able to live here, even though you’re Fae.”

 

“Ah, that depends on what you think of as age,” Wataru says, vanishing the coin when it becomes obvious Rei isn’t paying attention. No, he must find something else. If his years with Lord Achei have taught him nothing, else, it’s taught him that if he is not constantly interesting, intriguing, _entertaining_ , he’ll be just more food for the volcano. “Do you like illusions? Or perhaps songs?”

 

“Both are fine, I suppose? You don’t need to do that, though, I have to deal with enough people trying to entertain me,” Rei grouses, settling back as if his nonexistent feathers are ruffling. “My mother’s old. I’ve been awake for four years, and she hid me all that time, so I’m _guessing_ you’re older than that.”

 

 _Cambions_ , Wataru thinks with a sinking heart. Of course, they’re different. But if this one likes to hear about him, Wataru is _excellent_ at talking. He flicks his hand, and summons a tiny cloud, condensing the air around his fingertips, a wispy little construct. “It’s my first time in this shape in quite a long time, you see. Airbred…we don’t age the way most races do. We have metamorphoses. Before I was in this shape, I looked like this cloud, right here. Before that, I was music. Before that, I was human-shaped, just like this, until I found the sweetest sound on a flute, and then I knew I’d never achieve anything better, so I turned myself into music. When I had sung the rest of the song I’d started to write, I became the air I breathed into it, and drifted until I believed in my shape again. Ah, that probably…doesn’t make much sense to someone so new, does it?”

 

Damn, he’s so used to entertaining an old man, temperamental and violent, that he’s forgotten many of his parents’ teachings about being a proper minstrel.

 

“You were a cloud,” Rei skeptically echoes, his eyebrows slowly raising. “That doesn’t even look like the clouds that are here. Is that like…a human realm cloud? Where the sun is out and it’s all bright and the clouds are _white_ and the sky is actually blue? Oh, like your hair, I bet,” he muses, his head tilting slowly to the side, the chains of his earrings clinking quietly together. “Mother likes to go there to hunt, but won’t take me.”

 

“Do you want to see the human realm, Lord Rei?” Wataru asks, eyes alight. “My Lord—my last Lord—he never wanted to hear about it, but I lived there, for quite a long time.”

 

Rei brightens immediately. “Yes—yes, I _really_ want to go, it sounds so much better than here. Not just because of the food,” he hastily adds. “My mother won’t stop talking about that, but—other things. I don’t know.” It’s the dismissive phrasing of a child who has been obviously and repeatedly told to _hush up about it already_ , for sure.

 

“It’s nothing like here,” Wataru says softly, wistfully. “I thought I’d do anything to come back to where there were people like me, the last time I looked like this. But they’re all gone now, or dead. It’s just me. At least humans don’t—“

 

But admitting weakness in front of a predator isn’t a good idea, even if Wataru is one himself, so instead, he twitches his fingers, and the air rolls in, crystallizing into fog that settles into a wide plain, expanding out from a tiny city, built exactly to scale. Little cloud puff men and women detached from the buildings, hurrying along cloud-cobbled streets. “There are so many humans,” he murmurs. “And they’re all different, no two alike. They love fiercely, and fight over nothing, and relinquish power without questioning it, and think about so many things that aren’t food.”

 

“Mmnn…sounds much better than here…” Rei absently says, watching the little cloud-people move about. “You obviously like it in the human realm a lot more. If everyone else you know is gone, you should go back.”

 

Wataru doesn’t drop the illusion, but it’s a near thing, and his hand trembles. “Shall I take you there, then?” he asks, keeping his voice light. “I belong to you now, after all.”

 

Rei glances up, startled. “Ah—no, definitely no, my mother would go insane,” he says with a nervous laugh. “But _you_ can leave. I won’t stop you. If my mother gave you to me, then I can let you go.”

 

Wataru’s hand drops, and the cloud city vanishes. His chin firms, and he breathes in slowly. “Thank you, my Lord,” he says softly. Achei would offer him the same thing every day, wouldn’t he? But he’d been too smart to take it, unlike the others. “I’m quite content right here, for the moment.”

 

Rei stares back at Wataru for a moment, his brow knitting before he huffs, and finally, acts like the bratty prince he’s supposed to be by grumpily throwing himself sideways into the puddle of his clothes. “You’re just as awful as everyone else around here,” he whines, his hair tumbling forward and into his face. “I _hate it_ when you all lie through your teeth because you think it’ll _please me_ —I’m not stupid, _you’re_ stupid if you think _I’m_ stupid.”

 

Panic rises in Wataru. Any moment now, the young prince will call his guards and have Wataru sent back to Achei, sent back to the Firemount, and this time, surely, his Lord won’t care about the end of the story…

 

He throws himself forward, grabbing Rei’s ankle, hands tight as he bows his head. “Be merciful, my Lord, please. I have more illusions, better illusions, you can drink my blood!”

 

Rei blinks, lifting his head before he sits up, both perplexed and annoyed that this is the reaction he’s been given for what _he_ considers to be a tantrum. “Um…what do you think I’m going to do, exactly?” he finally asks, reaching out to set a hand on Wataru’s head and pet his hair. “Your illusions are fine, and I’m not hungry, but if you keep talking about it, I might be, so…don’t?”

 

Nerves tremble under Wataru’s skin, and he slowly sits up, face pale, hands twisting together. For once, he looks every bit as young as his face seems to hint, as if he really is a teenager who’d never been a cloud. “Please don’t send me back,” he whispers. “Let me stay, I can’t breathe back there, he killed my parents, I—“ He claps a hand over his mouth, horrified at his own lack of self-control, and laughs nervously. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

 

“You can stay, you can stay, you don’t have to go anywhere,” Rei hastily says, wavering and unsure of what to do with a creature that seems to actually react to things in ways that are different than violence or hunger. He finally settles on reaching up to pet Wataru’s hair again, because at least Wataru started talking to him in a way that didn’t sound like the canned nonsense of every other babysitter he’s ever been given. “Who killed your parents?” he tentatively presses.

 

Rei is dangerous. Wataru can feel that immediately, because lies are comfortable, lies are his trade, lies have kept him alive for years…but Rei makes him want to tell the truth. “The Lord of Achei,” he whispers. “Of the Firemount.” Rei’s hands are soft and sweet. It reminds Wataru of the way his mother used to pet his hair, and his lip trembles. “He…had a child. That died. He thought some villagers were hiding the child, and…a lot of people died.”

 

“Oh.” Rei chews on his lower lip, continuing to pet Wataru’s hair, carefully stroking as he tries to think of something that might soothe Wataru’s nerves. “My mother definitely is going to eat him…if that makes you feel better.”

 

“It won’t bring any of them back.” Wataru’s smile is tight. “I thought of convincing him that he should throw himself in the volcano to find his daughter. Perhaps that’s the story I’ll tell, when I’m old. It’s a better ending than ‘eaten by a demon Queen,’ don’t you think?”

 

“She’ll be a better Queen, at least?” Rei attempts. “She only kills human men when she visits villages in the human realm, because she thinks they’re useless.”

 

“I like men,” Wataru says, shrugging one shoulder. “But I don’t have a problem with creatures eating to survive. Are you happy, here?”

 

Rei hesitates at that question, and decides to avoid it entirely by smoothing Wataru’s hair again, and neatly starting to plait a few strands of it. “Mother says she wants our line to be the first true royal line of the Shadowlands,” he says, as if reciting the words. “So when she’s sick and tired of ruling, I’ll take over.”

 

Wataru raises a pale blue eyebrow, but doesn’t move his head from where it rests, on Rei’s knee. “She must think you’ll be very powerful,” he murmurs. “You do smell quite strong. She must be very invested in keeping you alive, then.”

 

At that, Rei heaves a little sigh. “I think she just liked my father a lot, and is mad about accidentally eating him. Whatever. The human realm seems so much more interesting, plants grow there that _don’t_ bite you.”

 

“Plants like you couldn’t believe,” Wataru says wistfully, and on a whim, he reaches up, touching his fingertips to Rei’s eyelids. Instantly, the illusion springs up around them in Rei’s eyes, a thick jungle of greens, reds, blues, purples, yellows, all blooming and spurting around them, vines and trees and flowers all exploding into view. “This is what the plants are like there,” he says softly, reaching out to brush his fingertip over the translucent edge of a fern.

 

Rei blinks rapidly, sitting back to properly take in the sudden, startling illusion that wraps around them. “…You’re not just telling me this, are you?” he asks, unable to shake the wariness of a child that has absolutely just been told nonsense to shut him up, more often than not. “Things like this…they don’t live down here. They can’t.”

 

“The trees,” Wataru says, voice hushed, dreamy, “reach up as tall as the mountains, in some places. I saw one once that ten men, holding hands, couldn’t span the trunk. There’s a tribe of men that hollow out portions of the wood and make their home inside, without stopping the tree from growing. These are real places, in the human realm. I’ve seen them.”

 

“Are you _sure_ you were a cloud before?”

 

“Well…yes, but I wasn’t _always_ a cloud.”

 

“If you’ve been a cloud, then posed as a human, then were here, you must be _really_ old.”

 

Wataru beams. “You know, I do think I am. Though I’m not actually sure _how_ old. How are they measuring years, now?”'

 

“Umm…in the Shadowlands, it’s the time between when the moon shows in the west and when it shows in the east. But I think that’s _not_ how humans do it.”

 

Oh, this child is charming. If Wataru isn’t careful, he’s going to become very fond of Rei. He smiles, and with an effort of will, adds an element of sound into his illusion, softly pattering rain and a few quiet hoots of night animals. “They do care about such things,” he says, eyes closed, “but they measure each season, also. My people tell time by the winds, but I know how to reckon in human and demon time.”

 

Rei exhales a long, pleased breath, leaning back onto one hand as he simply basks for a moment, briefly shutting his eyes. “The Shadowlands always is so…quiet, and not in a good way,” he quietly says, his eyes cracking open again as his fingers curl through Wataru’s hair. “There’s a big difference between time here and in the human realm, isn’t there.”

 

Wataru nods slowly, trying not to purr a little. “Humans…live fast. Their beasts live fast. Their plants live fast. If you’re long-lived, you can watch civilizations rise and fall in the time it would take a Demon Lord to choose a next meal. Does that sound like something you’d want to see?”

 

“I don’t particularly want to watch things die,” Rei admits after a moment’s contemplation, his fingers settling against the back of Wataru’s neck. “But I don’t hate the idea of getting to see all of that—or being involved with it. In here, it just feels like it’s the same thing, every day. That probably sounds stupid to you, if you’re really that old, but most Bloodbred are _really_ boring.”

 

“I…have certainly had that opinion about some Bloodbred in the past,” Wataru says, politically. “Think about it. When a woman falls in love in the human realm, it’s _everything_ to her—like hunger is, here. Every emotion, in the human realm, feels as important as hunger is here. Isn’t that incredible?”

 

 

“That sounds…so much better,” Rei sighs, leaning his head back. “Blood doesn’t really make me less hungry, anyway, so I don’t see the point…but my mother makes me, as if that’s going to change something. And humans taste good, I _guess_ , but…”

 

 

“You’d like humans a lot more if you fed on them in a different way, I think,” Wataru says lightly, eyes flicking over Rei contemplatively. “I don’t think you’re a true Bloodbred, you know. You’ve got so much else in you.”

 

 

“Yeah, I’m weird,” Rei wearily agrees, and he scratches the carpet underneath them with one long nail, bringing a little thorny seedling springing to the surface to join Wataru’s illusion. “I can do that. But they’re not good at living here, and Mother says I don’t work magic in the normal way in the first place. The way she does it doesn’t make sense, though, so…nggh.”  

 

 

Wataru looks critically at the little shoot, and scoots closer, shifting his illusion off to the side. He summons as much human-style magic as he can, and draws a little circle around the seedling with a fingertip, marking the charcoal-black ground. Then he breathes all the life-laden air he remembers into the circle, and the seedling suddenly glows green, leaves unfurling as the seedling drinks in the nutrients. “That’s how growing things look in the human realm,” he says, looking up to meet Rei’s eyes.

 

 

Rei’s face immediately brightens, and he gingerly reaches out, running a finger over one of the properly unfurled leaves. “The fact it grows at _all_ here,” he breathes, eyes alight. “And it didn’t even _bite me…_ why do Shadowlands plants _do_  that? Why does everything have to be _hungry_  here?” 

 

 

Wataru frowns, and blinks. “You know, I have no idea? I wonder if we could learn the answer, if we traveled to the human realm someday. Do you want to try another?”

 

 

“If I keep making them grow, I’ll get yelled at,” Rei grumpily says. “Sometimes, I wake up and my entire bedroom is covered, though. Those are the days I’m _really_  hungry.” 

 

 

“You make things happen when you’re hungry?” Wataru asks, intrigued. “I’d think you’d do that when you’re full, I wonder…I haven’t met anyone Greenbred in _ages_ , oh, she was so sweet.”

 

 

“Mother says it’s because I’m not controlling it properly, but I think she’s just looking for reasons to criticize,” Rei sniffs, and gives Wataru’s hair a curious little tug. “I don’t know anything, everyone eats Greenbred here, tell me things.”

 

 

Wataru’s eyes shine at being asked for a story, so he twitches his fingers, the ruffles at his sleeves rustling as he crafts a woman’s face out of shimmering lights. “Her name was Lila,” he says and the woman’s form takes shape, dressed in a sweet blue sundress, bare feet raising buds and grass from the ground. “She was a harpist, and used to dance at faires and festivals while I played the flute.”

 

 

“Was she your lover?” Rei immediately asks, watching the illusion with intrigue. “You sound like you liked her a _lot_.” 

 

 

Wataru’s head tilts to the side as he considers that. “I kissed her, sometimes,” he says fondly. “But I only take men as lovers, my Lord.”

 

 

“Ahhh. Like how my mother only takes women. Recently, anyway.” Rei wrinkles his nose. “I don’t get it. Men are definitely better.” 

 

 

“Mm, I agree.” The image of Lila twirls and bends, dancing with shimmering sparks rising around her. “I’d always find her sleeping in the sunlight, or rolling in a meadow. Nothing she owned was free of grass stains. Every lord in the land wanted to win her, but they’d always find her climbing out her window to lie in the branches of a tree. She was full Greenbred, of course. I should have known how it would go, in the end.”

 

 

“That sounds good,” Rei wistfully says, slowly listing to the side to become gradually more horizontal himself. “Minus the sunlight part…I want to roll in a lot of grass or lie down in a tree’s branches…but the sun sounds bad. I get crispy whenever the sun tries to come out here. It’s not _always_  that bright in the human realm, is it?” 

 

 

“Half the time? The other half, it’s darker than it ever is here,” Wataru assures him. “Instead of gray, it’s like this.” With an effort of will, the dim lights go out, and they’re left in utter darkness, black as pitch.

 

 

Rei blinks, once, twice, before his eyes readjust naturally, glowing a faint red within the pitch black darkness. “Seems good,” he says, sounding thoroughly relieved. “Really nice, actually. As long as it’s like this half the time…mm, yes, I definitely want to go someday.” 

 

 

“You should take me with you,” Wataru insists, letting the gloom vanish. “I can always call a cloud to blot out the sun for you. Really, it would be more dangerous for you to travel without me!”

 

 

“I wouldn’t want to go without a guide,” Rei agrees, blinking a few more times to readjust to dim, less comforting light. “So you need to come with me. Ahh, but when…” He frets, then banishes the thought with a sigh. “Not any time soon. Maybe the next time my mother goes to feed for a long time or something…but now she’s so desperate to maintain her title, and demons keep trying to kill _me_ …” 

 

 

“I could always leave you with a double illusion,” Wataru suggests. “Are you prone to hiding in your room? If so, I can leave a mock-up of you that’ll mope around and tell people to go away.”

 

 

“…I’m that obvious, am I?” 

 

 

“Ah…well, I _have_ known quite a lot of Bloodbred, you see…”

 

 

“I’m only _half_ ,” Rei huffs, folding his arms. “I’m not that mopey, I just don’t like anyone here, they’re all _boring_ and I’m always hungry so what’s the point?”

 

 

_Spoken like a completely typical Bloodbred_ , Wataru carefully does not say. Instead, he just urges, “So, when she leaves, I’ll leave a double. That should give us a head start, and I don’t think she’ll bring a whole army into the realms of men just to stop us from sightseeing for a bit, do you?”

 

 

Rei hesitates, worrying at his lower lip with the sharp tips of his fangs before remembering they exist, and popping them back up with a little nudge of his tongue. “She might not. Depends on the kind of guards she puts on me. But we can try it. The worse that will happen is she gets mad and locks me up for awhile.”

 

 

Wataru’s feet start to twitch, as if they’re about to walk out, and he sits firmly on them. “Then just order me what to do until then, so she doesn’t get suspicious. I promise, I can be quite entertaining.”

 

 

“If she gave you to me, then she’s not gonna pay you _any_  mind,” Rei says with a little shrug. “She’ll only think it’s weird if I never snack on you, so I guess I should. But you freaked me out a little by saying I could die if I take too much, so I don’t really want to.”

 

 

“That was mostly to save my own life,” Wataru admits, then wonders _why_ he’d admitted it. “It’s quite dangerous, being Airbred in a country ruled by Bloodbred, you understand. Mm, but if you want to feed, I don’t mind.”

 

 

“If my mother didn’t even try to eat you, she must think you’re _really_  fancy. Or poisonous. One of the two,” Rei settles upon, tugging on the braid he’d left in Wataru’s hair. “She loooves feeding on Fae. Did you really think I was going to kill you or something?” 

 

 

“…Sometimes,” Wataru says delicately, “a Bloodbred will take a small sip, then get…addicted. That doesn’t usually work out too well for the Fae.”

 

 

“Oh. Hmm. That’s what happened with my father, I think,” Rei says with a wince. “She gave me a human once that was…one-third, or something like that? Still way too sweet. I don’t wanna.” 

 

 

“Then make your fingernails quite sharp,” Wataru says urgently, leaning over and offering his neck, “and prick me, wherever you’d usually bite. I don’t want your mother to think you’re fond of me.”

 

 

“… _Why_  wouldn’t we want that?” Rei warily asks, feeling very much like he’s missing something, and decidedly _not_  wanting to draw Wataru’s blood. “If she thinks I like you, she’ll probably be happy she doesn’t have to entertain me herself, don’t you think?”

 

 

“Ah, perhaps I was wrong.” The nerves are back, and Wataru hugs his knees towards himself. “I thought your mother was the sort of queen who liked to control her heirs and the people close to them.”

 

 

“I mean…she does. Like to control me, I mean, but…” Rei hesitates, gingerly reaching out to pet Wataru’s hair again. “I guess I haven’t ever had anyone else close to me,” he admits. “So I didn’t think of it like that. If you’re worried about it, then I will just…take a little bite. She can tell the difference, so I have to bite or she’ll smell that I didn’t really do it.” 

 

 

“Don’t let your teeth rot out,” Wataru says cheerfully, and extends his neck. The skin is smooth at first glance, but it’s rippled and pocked beneath the surface, as if he’s been fed upon often, and thoroughly.

 

 

Rei still looks thoroughly unamused by this, but turning his nose up is just rude, isn’t it? And he does _not_  want his mother to pitch a fit or try to use Wataru in any way…

 

He sucks in a soft breath, and bends forward, gently brushing aside a few strands of Wataru’s hair as he bends forward. His lips brush against that soft skin briefly before his fangs extend, and Rei bites down, obviously still inexpert when it comes to the technique of it all. The taste—it’s bright and sweet and so _much_  after even a single lap that Rei pulls back with a panting breath, clamping a hand over his mouth when the urge to bite _again_  takes him by surprise. “S-sorry—you taste…it’s _different._ ”

 

 

Wataru winces a little, rubbing at his neck, and gives Rei a shaky little smile. “Thank you, Rei. You stopped, not a lot of Bloodbred do that, with someone like me.”

 

 

“Why do you taste like that?” Rei accusingly asks, looking thoroughly betrayed by the fact he actually _wants_  to keep drinking. “That’s not fair, for you or for me. I’m not biting you again, no way, that’s a bad idea.” 

 

 

Wataru shrugs a shoulder, pulling up his collar, feeling dizzyingly vulnerable. “There aren’t many, if any, pure Airbred left in the Shadowlands these days. I’m delightfully rare.”

 

 

“Then you _definitely_  need to not stay here,” Rei huffs, fidgeting for a moment before he forces himself to put his fangs up, no matter how it nearly makes him dizzy from the effort. “Away from my mother. She’ll…she’d want to eat you. That’s how she is.” 

 

 

“It’s not my first night in the Shadowlands,” Wataru says gently. “Believe me. This place is much less dangerous than the last place I lived.”

 

 

“That’s not…just because it’s less dangerous doesn’t mean it’s _good_. You were really scared before,” Rei scolds, wiping at his mouth. “You’re not my slave, I already said you could leave at any time, _especially_  if my mother tries to be…the way she is. So—just—keep that in mind.” 

 

 

Wataru smiles. “You’re a really kind person, aren’t you?”

 

 

Rei eyes him suspiciously. “That means I’m stupid, doesn’t it? Are you insulting me?” 

 

 

“A-ah?” Wataru blinks, startled. “No, Lord Rei. I meant what I said. It’s not common to meet kind people here. I’m grateful to have met you.”

 

 

“Oh. Mm. My mother says it like it’s a bad thing? And then acts like I’m an idiot.” Rei hesitates. “She’d definitely think I was an idiot, for wanting to let you go. So…we really can’t get caught if we go to the human realm.” 

 

 

Wataru nods slowly. “I figured it would be something like that,” he assures Rei. “Though I’m sure that as you said, the worst that will happen to you is a scolding. So I’ll try extra hard to spoil you that, even if it means dying.”

 

 

“Um…no, you’re not allowed to die. I can be scolded, it’s fine.” 

 

 

“Well, then you must allow me to be _quite_ entertaining on the journey. That way, it will all be worth it, don’t you think?”

 

 

“I _suppose_.” Rei throws himself back down with a heavy sigh. “She better leave soon. You’ve made me _really_  want to go.” 

 

 

“I won’t apologize,” Wataru says happily, feeling the wind change, bringing him towards something _new_. “This is the most fun I’ve had in years. Shall I show you anything else?”

 

 

“…Do humans have _dogs_  that are…less bite-y?” 

 

 

“Some humans have dogs that bite,” Wataru allows, “but many dogs are just for sweet companionship.”

 

 

“ _Really?_  They don’t all have to have a million teeth and five eyes and drool everywhere with spiked toes?” 

 

 

Wataru’s hands twitch, and he crafts a little dog out of the cloud, with shaggy fur that hangs into its eyes, wagging its tail so hard its whole body flops side to side. “No, they look more like this. Some of them do drool everywhere, though.”

 

 

The noise that leaves Rei’s throat is more akin to a whimper than anything, and he struggles not to grab the thing up and _squeeze it_. “But,” he manages, looking up at Wataru helplessly, “they’re _cute._ ” 

 

 

“Some of them,” Wataru says, shrinking the image, lengthening the ears, curling the fur, “look more like _this_. Truly.”

 

 

“They’re…they’re _fluffy_ , though. What are they _for?_  Just…just to be cute?” 

 

 

“I’ve never truly understood what they’re for,” Wataru admits. “But I think I’m right when I say that it’s for companionship. Humans are quite attached to them. You’d like it, they groom them with combs and tools.”

 

 

“You’re right,” Rei miserably says. “I would like it. I bet they’d die here. That’s no good, I can’t bring them back here.”

 

 

Wataru shrugs. “I’m not one for planning ahead,” he says cheerfully. “If I see something quite cute, I want to touch it.”

 

 

“Obviously, look at it!” Rei insists, fluttering a hand in the direction of the dog-cloud. “It’s so much cuter than my mother’s dogs. And _small_. It’s so useless, I want it.” 

 

 

“We’ll find you one, on our travels,” Wataru assures him. “They’re quite popular, or they were, the last time I was in the human realm. At first, they only had great big dogs that hunted enormous game, but even they would lie down with their owners in front of a fire.”

 

 

“Noooo.” Rei slowly slithers flat onto the floor, pulling his hair over his face. “I want a big dog, too. But it still needs to be fluffy. And rideable, maybe.” 

 

 

Wataru’s illusion grows large, as large as a man, and folds up his paws, laying his chin on them. “Like this,” he says helpfully.

 

 

Rei looks out from behind the fall of his hair, and huffs, clearly overstimulated. “ _Yes._  Like that. Just like that. I want twelve of the little ones and one big one.” 

 

 

“I’m sure that with proper encouragement, the big ones are definitely big enough to ride,” Wataru assures him. “At least, I can’t think of any reason they wouldn’t be. I’ve often been told that I don’t quite understand the limits placed on live, growing things before…”

 

“I don’t know anything about stuff from the human realm,” Rei bluntly points out. “So I’m taking your word for it. One of these days, I’m finding a dog big enough to ride, while still being fluffy.”

 

“I didn’t realize size was so important to you,” Wataru says lightly, with a brilliant, innocent smile.

 

“Well, it’s—“ Rei pauses, mulls that over, and then sits up with a huff. “That’s a sex joke,” he says, almost accusingly. “I got it, so don’t tease me.”

 

Wataru bursts out laughing, rolling back onto his back, legs kicking a little. “You said you were only a few years old, how was I to know?”

 

“My mother’s a succubus! I’m _young_ , not _stupid_ ,” Rei sniffs, though he looks amused rather than ruffled. “You’re the one that was a cloud before.”

 

“But I’ve been this shape for nearly two decades,” Wataru protests. “And I sort of remember things from before I was a cloud.”

 

“Uh huh. Clouds definitely don’t know anything.”

 

“Spoken like someone who’s never had a conversation with one.”

 

“Well…you’re close enough to one now. At least you know about dogs, I guess.”

 

“If it pleases my lord for me to know nothing,” Wataru offers, “I can forget nearly everything. I can be a very decorative ornament.”

 

Rei wrinkles his nose at that. “It’s weird,” he says, “when you get like that, even if you’re joking. I don’t wanna be your lord, first of all, but second of all, you seem good the way you are, so don’t…get all strange, and fake things. Too many people around here lie already.”

 

“You can say that,” Wataru says softly, “and it sounds very kind, but I _was_ given to you as a present, wasn’t I? If I’m not able to leave, and would be punished for disobeying you, you _are_ my lord, don’t you think?”

 

“But—I told you I’d let you free, and I _wouldn’t_ punish you,” Rei protests. “I mean, we can play up this arrangement so you _won’t_ get punished no matter what, I suppose, but still…”

 

“So I can walk out the door?” Wataru asks, and stands up, walking to the door and resting a hand on the knob. “Nothing will happen to me?”

 

Rei hesitates, a protest on his tongue. _But don’t_ really _leave, you’re the only interesting person here, and you’re the only one that really talks to me, and you know about_ humans. “…Nothing will happen,” he quietly says. “If my mother tries to do anything, I’ll just tell her you taste bad. She doesn’t like feeding on men, anyway, even Fae ones.”

 

Wataru pauses, then flops down on the floor again, resting his head on Rei’s thigh. “I’m going,” he assures him. “Just…not yet. I don’t like traveling at this time of year.”

 

Rei blinks, genuinely surprised that Wataru _didn’t_ just walk out when given permission, but he relaxes after that, resting a hand back atop Wataru’s hair to pet him. “That’s fair. When you do want to go, just…let me know. So I can help.”

 

“Don’t be silly,” Wataru says softly. “You’ll come with me. When you’re ready to go…that’ll be the right time of the year.”

 

~

 

“She’s for you,” the Demon Queen Airi says, presenting what _she_ probably thinks is a perfectly tantalizing (and naked) human woman to him. Thralled, euphoric, and eager, the woman reaches for him, and Rei can’t repress the shudder that rakes down his spine.

 

“Does it have to be…her?”

 

Airi stares at him, annoyed. “She’s a _treat._ Look at her. You should be honored that I’m sharing such a perfect meal—“

 

Trying to explain the revulsion that slithers through him is impossible, and so Rei says nothing, skittering from the room in spite of his mother’s protests.

 

“ _Rei!_ Get back here, you—ugh, _fine_ , more for me!”

 

Rei hurries down the halls, sidestepping servants that immediately bow to the now teenage prince. It’s just anxiety that makes him like this, surely, he thinks desperately, but the _hunger_ makes him nearly trip when he enters his chambers, shutting the heavy door with a thud before he sags back against it.

 

“Trouble in the palace, my prince?”

 

Wataru rolls to the side, raising an eyebrow as his hair spills down to the floor, left to grow rampantly over the last several years. Clad in black robes instead of his previous attire, his hair stands out even more strikingly around Airi’s court, marking him as _other_ , even among demons. His nose twitches, and he smiles. “You look like you’ve escaped something horrible.”

 

Wataru is, unfortunately, the _worst_ possible person he could see.

 

The sudden, sharp hunger that wells up make his fangs cut his tongue, and Rei clamps a hand over his mouth, shutting his eyes as he sucks in a slow, ragged breath through his nose. “S…something like that,” he manages, slowly sliding down to the floor to give up and just sit _down_. “My mother, she… _ugh_. No, you’ll laugh, you’ll just laugh.”

 

“I hope so,” Wataru says cheerfully. “I do love to laugh. But there’s no need to keep it from me, if I can help. What has she done to you now, my friend?”

 

“She brought me a human woman as a meal.”

 

Wataru’s eyebrows climb. “Oh. Did she.” His words hang in the air, amused and intrigued all at once, laden with meaning.

 

“Don’t tease me!” Rei snaps, lifting his head from his shaking hands, pale cheeks flushed from embarrassment. “I just—I _can’t_ , women make my skin crawl! I mean, when they’re _naked_ —they’re perfectly nice otherwise, but when they’re naked and trying to touch you and rub all against you—“ He shudders down to his toes, drawing his knees up to his chest.

 

“What about men?”

 

Wataru tries not to say it with any particular emphasis, sitting up and facing his prince. “I’m not making fun of you. I’ll make fun at any time, but it’s not pointed at you, my friend. Have you tried it with a man?”

 

Rei shakes his head, refusing to look directly at Wataru’s face. “No—my mother only tries to bring me women,” he miserably says. “I’m so hungry, and drinking blood does _nothing_.”

 

Wataru hesitates, then decides that hesitation is for creatures who know fear. “Try it. Ask your mother for a man. She wouldn’t mind. And if she won’t let you, try it with me.”

 

Rei’s head jerks up, his expression decidedly nervous. “She’ll just make fun of me,” he says, his voice wavering. “I can’t ask her. And I can’t…I can’t ask _you_ for that, I promised I wouldn’t feed on you, except to fake it and make her think I was. This is different.”

 

Wataru laughs. “I didn’t mean my blood, Rei.” He stands, letting his hair spill down his back and chest, eyes sparkling. “I mean feeding the way your other family does. Surely your mother doesn’t only slit a vein and slurp.”

 

“Well…no.” Rei hesitates, looking up from where he continues to be a ball on the floor. “But that’s still _feeding_ , and I don’t…I really don’t expect that from you.”

 

“I’m not offering myself to be thralled,” Wataru says with a smile. “But I don’t mind if you use me to experiment a bit. It might be fun.”

 

The temptation is very, very strong, and that hunger is more and more distracting the longer he looks at Wataru. “I don’t know if I can really control myself once I start, though,” Rei hesitantly admits. “I’m _really_ hungry.”

 

“My friend,” Wataru says gently, “I want you to know, deep down, and truly believe me when I say that if I wanted you to stop, I could make you stop. I don’t say this to scare you, just to inform you.”

 

“Oh. Well. Good.” Rei pauses, and finally blurts out, “I’ve always thought you were very sexy.”

 

A little flush dusts Wataru’s cheeks, and he tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. “Oh. Thank you. You’re…I mean, lately, of course, you’re quite the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

 

“Then…then this is probably fine, right?” Rei says with a little laugh, trying to shake off his nerves as he slowly picks himself up. A wave of hunger overtakes him, and he sways, stumbling forward and grabbing at Wataru’s shoulder as his vision blurs. “I _hate_ when my mother parades women in front of me like that,” he groans. “I don’t want them, but it just reminds me of how hungry I am, it’s awful…” 

 

Wataru moves in a flash, gripping Rei’s chin with his fingers, backing him up to the bed. His eyes dance, and he leans in, feeling Rei’s breath against his lips. “Then, my prince…you shouldn’t deny yourself.” And he claims Rei’s mouth in a deep kiss, feeling his own hungers wake. They’re less esoteric than Rei’s desires, but still _strong_ , since he indulges himself so rarely.

 

Rei’s breath catches in his chest, and his mind stops overthinking all of this.

 

He stops thinking at all, actually. Instead of thinking, he just _moves_ , falling back and grabbing at Wataru with pale, trembling fingers, yanking him down as he still arches up to kiss him back so hungrily that he cuts his tongue with his own teeth.

 

Wataru tastes blood, and hums a little to himself, licking at each spilled drop. Then he shoves Rei down, pinning his shoulders to the bed, kneeling astride him as his hair falls down around them. One hand trails up to Rei’s hair, fisting in it and holding the Demon Prince still, kissing him soundly, just letting him _feel_ the hidden strength in Wataru’s grip as he licks at the inside of Rei’s mouth.

 

Rei’s chest heaves, breath quickening as he melts back, caught up in the spell of _exactly_ how strong Wataru really is. Certainly, he knew it before, had seen little glimpses of it, but actually experiencing it himself in this _particular_ way makes his skin flush, his toes curl, and his fingers mindlessly grab at handfuls of Wataru’s hair, clinging there while he lets himself be kissed and shoved about.

 

Rei is being _very_ well-behaved, so Wataru rewards him, shifting his weight down to bring his hips fully against Rei’s, rocking slowly with him, shifting with each inhale and exhale through his nose. He sucks slowly on Rei’s tongue, his own curling around it, little bursts of magic erupting every time his energy meets Rei’s, each of them eager, breathing hard.

 

That friction—just _enough_ of it—makes Rei pant and groan against Wataru’s mouth, squirming to shift his grip, getting his hands against Wataru’s back instead, his nails sinking in. His tongue snakes against Wataru’s, dragging against the roof of his mouth as he arches off the bed, hips twitching up hungrily. His cock aches, and every pulse of it makes him dizzy—far less from hunger already, far more from bliss, and his fingers flex in, clinging to Wataru’s back.

 

Usually in situations like this, Wataru is a talker. He likes to murmur sweet words, likes to drive his partners to distraction with his vocabulary, but Rei is taking all of his attention, making him focus on nothing but the taste of Rei, the feel of his skin, the pulse of his heartbeat. His hand trails down, letting go of Rei’s hair to pluck at his buttons, pushing them skillfully through each hole, letting his fingertips dip against the hollow of Rei’s collarbone.

 

Rei releases Wataru’s mouth to finally remember how to breathe, trembling as his head lolls back, tongue dragging over his own fangs. It’s his own blood that he tastes, but that’s for the best—he doesn’t _want_ Wataru’s blood, he wants…

 

Yes, that. The electric touch of those long, elegant fingers dragging over his skin, the way Wataru’s breath feels when it brushes over his throat, the weight of him above him— _that’s_ better than any blood that he could taste. He paws at Wataru’s back, a little whine leaving his throat.

 

That noise breaks Wataru’s concentration, and he breaks the kiss, eyes glittering as he looks down at Rei. “Is this working?” he asks, knowing what the answer is by the way Rei grabs at him, the way Rei’s skin is starting to glow to his enhanced sense. “If you feel this good from a kiss, imagine what you’ll feel when…”

 

He shifts down again, letting his hips drag against Rei’s very deliberately.

 

Rei sucks in a sharp breath, his hands clutching into the solid muscle of Wataru’s back as his hips twitch up, seeking that _again_. “It’s…it’s working,” he rasps, wetting his lower lip as he looks up at Wataru through the heavy fall of his lashes. His eyes are glazed, glowing dim red. “You can…keep doing whatever you want, so please…”

 

Wataru looks down at Rei’s face, and is suddenly overwhelmed with just how _new_ it feels. He can remember touching men, kissing them, but it’s never been in _this_ body, never had _this_ skin touched, never let someone kiss _these_ lips. He finds himself greedy for it, mouthing over Rei’s neck, lunging down against Rei as if he’s just as hungry, shoving his shirt to the side. “I want you,” he breathes, eyes sparkling dark in the low light. “I want you, tell me I can have you.”

 

Rei fumbles for the words, his hands clawing underneath Wataru’s robes, _needing_ to touch skin or feeling certain that he’ll _die_. Those words— _I want you, I want you_ —make him shiver and pant, grabbing at a handful of Wataru’s hair to encourage that mouth on his neck as he grinds up, desperate to feel more of Wataru against him. “W-whatever you want,” he groans, his eyes fluttering. “You can…you can have me, I want you to…”

 

“You know what I’m asking for?”

 

Wataru hopes desperately that Rei does, because he’s so hard it hurts, something he hasn’t felt too often lately. He nips and nibbles and sucks at Rei’s neck, bruising delicate skin with his lips, his hands coming up to squeeze Rei’s hips, his waist, to rub over his chest. “Nn, I could just touch you for a year…”

 

“I know—I know what you want, I…” Rei’s voice hitches, catching on his breath when Wataru’s hands drag over him, and he clings to Wataru’s hair like it’s a lifeline, making _sure_ he can’t move too far away. “I’ve thought about it,” he finally admits, his cheeks flushing—not from shame, there’s no point in that, but maybe _slightly_ from admitting this particular thing to Wataru, who he’d tried so _hard_ to behave around for years. “For…for awhile. I’ve wanted you to.”

 

“You want what?”

 

Wataru isn’t trying to be horrible, but Rei is so sweet, so _pliant_ , so good to him when he’s been so awful. He snakes a hand down, cupping Rei through his tight trousers, feeling the heat and the heaviness of him there, trying not to actually lick his lips. “You want me to touch you? I will, Rei, if you let me.”

 

Rei groans and arches, helpless to do anything _but_ rut up against Wataru’s hand, feeling his cock twitch and throb just from that much. He feels high, or drunk, like the time he’d had _far_ too much Shadewine and swore to never do it again, but (probably) without any of the painful aftereffects. “I _want_ you to fuck me,” he breathes, his eyes lidded as he spreads his legs. “Touching is nice, but it’s not…”

 

“Ah—“ The word is startled out of Wataru, and he doesn’t expect the surge of eager arousal that spikes through him, making him squeeze Rei harder than he’d intended, pulling away to start to fumble with his clothes, as if he’s some sort of _mortal_ who has to obey natural laws of physics. With a laugh, he sends out a wave of his power, and the air shimmers with lies when his clothes disappear, transformed into shadows. “Then touch me,” he whispers, grabbing Rei’s hand and bringing it between his own thighs.

 

Rei moves like he’s possessed, his fingers eagerly wrapping around the long, hard cock between Wataru’s legs. The heavy, warm weight of it makes Rei swallow audibly, the pulse of arousal that goes through him making him hiccup on his next breath as he squeezes, tentatively at first, then strokes, and gently tugs, his thumb rubbing over the already dripping tip. “It would be good,” he slowly says, glancing up to hold Wataru’s gaze, “if I couldn’t move after this.”

 

“You want me to be powerful enough to wreck the Demon Prince?” Wataru breathes, eyes lidding at Rei’s touch, the soft, strong squeeze of it. “Perhaps I will, and you can beg servants to carry you around for a week while you recover. Does that sound nice, Rei? Do you want me to have you right here, and have you well, until you can’t even move?”

 

Rei shudders, toes curling hard enough that he draws a leg up, his bent knee pressing against Wataru’s side. “Fuck being carried around,” he mumbles, tongue running over his lower lip as his touch becomes bolder, squeezing harder, giving Wataru’s cock longer, more insistent strokes. “I’ll just stay in bed and you can just fuck me again until I’m useless.”

 

Wataru groans, and falls to his elbow, hair falling around both of them as his eyes focus on Rei’s, going dark with desire. “Usually,” he says, trying to sound light and failing completely, “I am a _very_ kind and generous lover. You are pushing me to uncharacteristic roughness.”

 

“I’m _hungry_ ,” Rei heatedly insists, his cheeks hot as he fumbles one-handedly with the fastenings of his own trousers, then remembers, half-way through the process, yes, he’s the Demon Prince, removing clothing like a normal human is so pointless. It flutters away like shadow, leaving him bare and shivering as he tries to pull Wataru in just with the hand on his cock. “You can be kind later, if I want you to be. But not now, I want—“ His chest heaves, too aroused by the words to even properly say them. “I want you to use me.”

 

A slow gulp of air is all Wataru manages before he lurches forward, forgetting magic, forgetting everything except wanting _Rei_ under his hands. He covers Rei’s body with his own, pressing, rocking down against him, letting out a hiss at the contact of skin against hot, taut skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he groans, and shifts, flipping Rei onto his belly, yanking his hips up and back. “If you want me to stop, just…I don’t know. Fight me off. Figure it out.”

 

Rei’s arms wobble and give out when he tries to prop himself up, too turned on, too hard and too needy to try and push his face out of the bed for a moment. He sucks in a ragged breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he reaches down to give his cock a squeeze, _trying_ to stop himself from coming right then and there. “I won’t,” he manages, “want you to stop. You…ahh…you feel bigger, when you…when we’re like this, with you leaning over me—“

 

“I’m not a small man,” Wataru says softly, against Rei’s ear. He shifts, grinding a hard line against the back of Rei’s thigh, panting against the side of Rei’s face, losing control before he even gets inside. “In, ah, any way.” He fumbles for the idea of a spell, and finally hits on it, muttering a casual word and filling Rei with slick, easy fluid, making his way easy before he slips in a long finger. “Are you ready for that?”

 

Rei lurches forward with a gasping, panting groan, his fingers digging into the bed before he sets his knees to the bed, sucks in a deep breath, and arches _back_ instead of away. Wataru’s fingers are long and thorough, and as he pushes himself up onto his elbows, Rei feels a trickle of sweat drip down from his shoulderblades, slicking down the line of his spine when his body squeezes down around just that one finger. “Uh huh,” he manages, already dazed and shivering. “That’s…that’s better. I think about it…a lot.”

 

“Do you do this to yourself, my friend?” Wataru asks, even as the idea makes eagerness flutter in his belly. He slides in another finger, stretching Rei, widening them, twisting them around to spread that slippery sweetness he’d summoned. “What do you ride at night, Rei? Your fingers? Something else?”

 

That _stretch_ takes his breath away, leaving Rei squirming, mouth parted as he wriggles back. His cock twitches between his legs, harder than he can ever remember being, distracting him more with every single pulse. “Fingers,” he mumbles, pressing his forehead down to any cool spot on the sheets he can find. “Mostly. But it’s not…good enough. Yours…yours go so much _deeper_ …”

 

Wataru slides his fingers out, and mouths another kiss over the back of Rei’s neck. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

 

He shifts, dragging the head of his cock over Rei’s hole, feeling it catch lightly, and he bites his bottom lip, letting it drag again, before starting to push inside. “Just…tell me,” he breathes, trying to catch his breath, “if you need me…to…you know…”

 

Rei _sags_ , his arms sliding out from underneath him as it feels like his spine melts. That sudden, intense stretch, that aching, pulsing fullness—it takes his breath away, makes him pant and groan, his legs trembling as he forces them further apart.

 

Wataru _feels_ huge, over him, _in him_ , and even just _thinking_ about trying to be good, to take all of him, makes Rei’s cock drip and twitch, threatening to spill if he as much as thinks about reaching down to touch himself. “D-don’t you dare listen to me if I beg you to stop,” he groans, struggling to push himself up onto his elbows again. “Just—just _fuck me_ , please—“

 

A human, Wataru thinks, wouldn’t feel the way Rei starts to come alive with every thrust into his body. He’d expected Rei to start draining him, had expected it. It would be a decent enough payment, for the last several years of affection, and Wataru has always thought he’d die being eaten by a demon. But Rei isn’t _taking_ anything, but _creating_ something, feeding on the magical friction created between the two of them whenever they touch, whenever Wataru slides in deep, whenever Wataru’s long fingers curl around his length, stroking him slowly from root to tip. “You deserve this,” he whispers, not quite hearing the words coming out of his own mouth. “You deserve everything good, Rei, no one who isn’t _good_ would be like you—“

 

The touch of Wataru’s hand is actually _too_ much, and Rei has half the mind to swat his hand away. He can’t; he’s too distracted, too overwhelmed, with the _taste_ of Wataru somehow in his mouth when that cock slides in deep, leaving him full and stated _already_.

 

His cock twitches, jumps within Wataru’s grasp, and when timed with a deep thrust, makes him gasp and arch, helplessly dissolving and coating those long fingers as he comes hard. “Fuck,” Rei whimpers, slithering down, pressing his cheek down to the sheets as he pants, tongue running absently over his fangs as he rocks mindlessly into Wataru’s hand and back onto his cock. “Fuck, _fuck_ …” Not eloquent, perhaps, but who _cares_ when magic blurs in front of his vision, and Wataru feels so hot inside of him.

 

The air sparkles, Rei clenches around him, and Wataru cries out, spilling deep inside Rei, filling him with spurt after spurt as he lunges forward, burying himself completely. He presses a kiss to Rei’s spine, then another, his hair spilling over and around Rei’s slender back. “Beautiful, you’re _lovely_ ,” he murmurs, kissing Rei’s back again. “How does that feel, are you still hungry?”

 

Rei settles on gurgling for a moment, deciding words are stupid for the time being, and wanting to relish the way it feels when he’s _so_ full. “…Nnn,” he eventually manages, reaching blindly for a handful of Wataru’s hair. “Don’t pull out. I think…I want it again.”

 

“Still like this?” Wataru asks, giving a slow, experimental thrust inside, feeling the added slickness, because Rei is so sweetly full now. “Or on your back? Or astride me?”

 

“Yes,” is the vague, breathy response that probably means _all of the above._ Rei shifts with a shiver running down to his toes, trying to squeeze down around Wataru’s cock even when he’s still so shaky. “…could be kissing you again,” he mumbles, tugging Wataru’s hair. “So something—like that.”

 

Wataru slides out, hungry for the sweetness of Rei’s tongue, and flips the Demon Prince onto his back, covering his body with his own, pressing kiss after kiss to his cheek, his jawline, his lips. “You’re incredible,” he says softly, pulling back to look down into Rei’s eyes. “My friend.”

 

“I feel,” Rei says, very seriously, flopping his arms around Wataru’s neck as he sprawls out, basking in the attention, “like I’m drunk. Is that good? I…oh.” Out of the corner of his eye, the wall touching the headboard of his bed is _obviously_ alive, moving and rustling with quite a large _number_ of green, leafy things. “Oops.”

 

Wataru laughs. “That’s my fault as much as yours,” he says, not chagrined in the slightest. “Good, good, eat as much as you like, it isn’t hurting me in any way. If anything, it just feels good, my friend.”

 

“I don’t…even feel myself doing it,” Rei admits, sagging back and stroking a hand down Wataru’s sweaty back. “I thought it would be a lot harder, or a lot more unpleasant for you. I’m glad it isn’t. You are _so_ nice to touch,” he murmurs distractedly, pushing himself up to set his mouth to the arc of Wataru’s neck.

 

“Then touch…nnh, touch me.” Wataru invites, twining his legs and arms with Rei’s, grinding down against him, letting all of their skin press against each other. “You can, as much as you like. My body is yours to explore.”

 

Rei arches, tangling their legs together with a pleased, rumbling sigh as his hands get lost within Wataru’s hair. “I want it in me again,” he mutters, pausing to suck on the side of Wataru’s neck as he squirms to let his cock rub into Wataru’s hip. “Mm. Yours is so much better than the other ones I’ve seen around.”

 

“You might enjoy a wide range,” Wataru assures him, pressing a kiss to Rei’s shoulder as he slides easily in again, just savoring the feeling of being inside, of having Rei around him. “Don’t confine yourself, mm? Ahh, you feel like a delight, you know that?”

 

Rei sucks in a sharp breath, his back arching as he winds his legs around Wataru’s waist, squeezing tightly as he wriggles down with a pleased, throaty rumble. “But yours…goes _so_ deep,” he breathes, his eyes lidded and cheeks flushed as his nails score gently down Wataru’s back. “That’s the best part. Nhh, it’s like I can taste you…”

 

“Something you can do as much as you like later,” Wataru promises. “In fact…” He rocks in gently, setting an easy rhythm, drawing pleasure out of both of them. “I’m at your service as long as you like, so feel free to make this use of me…at your leisure…”

 

“Don’t—ahh—don’t offer that…unless you really…really mean it—“ Rei’s toes curl, one leg drawing up further Wataru’s back, the heel of Rei’s foot pressing into him on its own accord when the rhythm of Wataru’s cock in him makes Rei shudder. “I don’t—nhh—want…this to stop, I’ll be _useless_ …” Which sounds nice, truth be told; being sweaty and mussed and flat on his back being fucked sounds much better than trying to be a _proper_ Demon Prince.

 

“Haven’t I been at your service for years, my friend?” Wataru rocks in time with Rei’s encouragement, letting his hands skim the sides of Rei’s body, dragging his hips down with each thrust of his own up into Rei’s body. “This part of me is no less at your service.”

 

His eyes glitter, something hard under the playful nature. “And you are at mine.”

 

Rei’s entire body clenches at that, his thighs tight against Wataru’s waist, his breath hiccuping when tensing so much makes Wataru’s cock feel that much larger inside of him. “Sometimes,” he breathes, his own eyes dark and lidded as he lets himself be pulled onto Wataru’s cock, “you get this _look_ about you…and it makes me so hard I can’t stand it.”

 

Wataru goes still for a moment in a way a human never can, as still as a statue, as still as death. It’s only for a split-second, and then the warmth is back in his eyes, and he rocks hungrily into Rei, bruising his mouth with a kiss. “No one,” he whispers, feeling Rei’s cock throb against his belly, “can hide his nature _all_ the time.”

 

A low, rumbling purr leaves Rei’s throat, and he laces his hands through Wataru’s hair, dragging his nails along his scalp as he surges up to suck on his tongue, the tips of his fangs drawing blood—Wataru’s this time, which he can’t help but swallow down with a groan. “So don’t,” he insists breathlessly, his cock dripping onto his stomach as he ruts down. “Fuck me like that. Like that…that look in your eye, I want it.”

 

Wataru shivers, and though they don’t change shape or length, his teeth look _sharper_ somehow, all of him seeming to glitter, an untouchable, unreachable diamond shaped like a beautiful young man. Then he’s back, and he bites his lip, looking hesitant. “Do you think…you can stop me?” he whispers. “If you have to?”

 

 _Why the hell would I want to?_ Rei nearly asks, but the sudden surge of energy, pure and strange and _fae_ , that slithers through him makes his vision glaze for a moment, mouth slack, hands clutching at Wataru’s back. “I…y-yeah, I can…do that,” he breathes, looking up at Wataru through hooded eyes. “But I won’t. You’re hungry, too, aren’t you? After so long…”

 

When he’d walked the world before, Wataru had made some mistakes. One of them, to his deepest regret, had been in listening to someone who’d trusted him, when the man had whispered, _Just indulge yourself, I can handle it, I’ll be fine._

 

He’s older now. Rei is a demon, not a weak human. Still…

 

He grimaces, and looks away. “Don’t ask me for that, my friend. I’m not as good at stopping myself as you are.”

 

“Wataru.” Rei leans up, and bites one of those strong, pale shoulders. “Shut up, stop thinking about it, and _fuck me._ ”

 

If Rei weren’t quite so beautiful, Wataru might have been entirely out of the mood. But how could he be, when Rei is beneath him looking so gorgeous, so willing, so hungry?

 

This night is about Rei. Later, perhaps, Wataru might let himself free. But for now, he presses another kiss to Rei’s forehead, sliding in deeply, circling his hips, letting his hand come back up to Rei’s chest.

 

Rei grabs at Wataru’s hand, urging to one of his nipples as he arches and ruts down, eyes lidded as he savors that intense feeling of _fullness_. “I wonder,” he absently breathes, flicking his gaze up to catch Wataru’s, “if I did drink…could I stop, when it’s like this? Would you mind if I tried?”

 

Wataru laughs breathlessly, and leans down, offering his neck with another slap of his hips up into Rei. “Drink,” he orders, fingers seeking, rubbing and pinching at Rei’s nipples. “Take from me, I’m taking from you, after all…”

 

Wasting no time, Rei lunges up, his fangs sinking into Wataru’s neck with all the precision of a young predator. His fingers bury themselves into Wataru’s hair, nails scraping against his scalp as his vision clouds with the first swallow, then another, noisy and wet and _hungry_ as he drinks, his toes curling as his foot drags against the side of Wataru’s thigh, every muscle tense from being so purely, _completely_ sated.

 

And he doesn’t stop.

 

Blood trickles from the side of his mouth, and Rei growls, low and _possessive_ in the back of his throat.

 

Wataru laughs, sounding a little _too_ eager, a little _too_ excited at the way Rei feeds from him. He drives in hard, grunting now, and his eyes flash when he lurches in harder still, slamming home with a low moan, spilling himself again.

 

And with a flicker of will, sharper-edged than he’d intended, his blood simply stops flowing to Rei’s teeth.

 

Rei hisses, long tongue flicking out to lap at the bit of blood that escapes down his chin, and his nails score down Wataru’s back as he feels that hot, sticky mess flood inside of him, stinging this time from the soreness of before—but it’s _good_ , it makes him ache and squirm and rut down onto that perfect cock.

 

That instinctive, shitty lizard brain that Rei _hates_ won’t drop the fact his blood-based meal has been cut off, so he bites again, even though no blood is drawn. He just holds onto Wataru’s shoulder like that, biting roughly, holding onto him as he spills between them, chest heaving, trembling from overstimulation with his pupils slitted and dark.

 

Some spark of instinct flares inside Wataru, and his eyes turn glittery again, shining like polished gemstones. He lets out a weirdly musical-sounding snarl, and leans down, hand wrenching Rei’s hair back with unstoppable strength. Then, delicately as plucking a song on a stringed instrument, he flicks out his tongue and licks a stripe up Rei’s neck.

 

Power sings, and wherever Wataru touches Rei, cold power radiates out, the cold of the upper atmosphere rather than of the glaciers. Music tinkles like madness, flowing over both of them, whirling around Rei, as if that cold itself is desperate to consume Rei’s very life, chipping away at his energy with every breath Wataru takes.

 

Rei sucks in a shaky, wet breath, mouth bloodstained, limbs trembling—but he moves, finally, clawing at Wataru’s arms, leaning into the pull on his hair as he lunges up, grabbing at him to flip him over and get Wataru onto his back.

 

His teeth bare, snapping over the arc of Wataru’s neck, but he doesn’t bite again. It’s just a warning, a show of a threat, as he perches himself over Wataru’s hips, his hands splaying against his chest. That power _aches_. Wherever it touches, it almost burns, but Rei shivers as if he’s freezing. Even still, stopping that seems foolish—it’s only fair, and while still connected like this, that power still flows between them. As much as Wataru chips away, Rei swiftly replaces, and it’s a neat little circle of energy that makes Rei gradually relax, his nails biting less into Wataru’s skin.

 

For the first time in a hundred years, something empty inside of Wataru feels _whole_. That’s enough to make him giddy, lightheaded, rippling with delight enough that at first he hardly registers that he’s been neatly threatened and confined.

 

Slowly, slowly, he comes back to himself, and slams the door shut on his power, banishing it back to the dark corner of his mind where he keeps it for most of his life. He sucks in a long breath, and goes limp under Rei’s hands and mouth, blinking rapidly. “I—it’s over,” he says softly. “It’s over.”

 

Rei breathes in deep, and slowly slumps down, fangs retracting as he nuzzles up into Wataru’s neck, tongue dragging over the bite marks he left behind, much like an animal licking its mate’s wounds. “Sorry,” he murmurs, nosing at another bite. “Got too bitey. Was that…enough? I don’t know how fae things eat…”

 

Wataru’s arms slowly come up to encircle Rei’s waist, pulling him close, nuzzling him back, embracing the oddly bestial nature of it. “More than I’ve had in a century,” he breathes, letting his back arch in quiet, satiated pleasure. “Thank you for not letting me eat you. I told you, I’m not very good at stopping.”

 

“I don’t think you could _eat_ me, so long as you’re fucking me,” Rei cheerfully says, flopping entirely down into Wataru’s chest, arms splayed forward to either side of his head. “It makes a neat little power loop. I keep feeding passively, and you’re feeding actively, so I keep getting energy when you take it. It’s nice.”

 

Wataru smiles, stroking Rei’s hair, winding each curl around his fingers, never letting a single tangle snag. “I killed someone I loved like that, once,” he admits, voice hushed. “That’s what made me want to…stop being human. Stop being myself. But it doesn’t work that way for creatures like me.”

 

“…I’m sorry for pushing you. I could tell it was something bad. You had a look on your face.” Rei sets his chin atop Wataru’s chest, peering up at him. “But I won’t let you kill me. I think we’re both a match for one another anyway, don’t you?”

 

Wataru’s mouth curls up at the sides, and finally, his eyes crinkle, a more genuine smile than he’s ever given Rei. “I think, my friend…we just might be.”

 


	26. Chapter 26

 

Overseeing this _particular_ band of misfits gives Rei the headache of the century, and he longs to be back in High Harbor, plastered to Shu’s side.

 

It isn’t meant to be, not _now_. At least Eichi is in a much more pleasant mood, and not constantly breathing down his neck in challenge, though he’ll still occasionally mention Shu and make Rei’s skin crawl. _It’s fine,_ he thinks through gritted teeth with every single stride closer West, _soon, he can be Wataru’s problem, and maybe Wataru can make him behave._

 

By time they start to see the changes in setting—the flats turning to rolling hills, turning to mountains—Leo has finally stopped rambling on about Izumi, and how _beautiful_ he is while pregnant, and started sulking about his lack of presence instead. Hiyori is Hiyori, obnoxious and chatty when it’s unnecessary, and that’s the only violence Rei will tolerate from Eichi: when he reaches over, and smacks Hiyori to make him shut up.

 

It’s late into another day that they finally reach the front lines in the West. Watching Eichi suddenly be nervous and on-edge is sort of…amusing to watch, though Rei does feel somewhat sorry for Leo for having to observe this particular level of nonsense from his mate. Then again, it’s embarrassing to watch how Wataru gets around Eichi, too. _Why do you_ enjoy _this creature so much, Wataru?_

 

But Rei bites his tongue, and reaches out a tendril of magic to warn Wataru of their arrival. Maybe Natsume can be safely stowed away before setting eyes on the most problematic archdemon of the century.

 

“Kitten,” Wataru says gently, his breath ruffling the hair around Natsume’s ear. Natsume is curled up on his chest, idly paging through a rather terrifying-looking arcane tome, making occasional happy little noises whenever something really oblique pops up. “See the future for me, something close. Something happy.”

 

“Mmm?” An eyebrow twitches, and Natsume pauses, glancing up from his horrifyingly dusty piece of literature. “Something _close_. Hmm. In the near—“ He pauses, his eyes glazing, glittering bright, strange gold. “You’re going to be…very well fed.” Another pause, and the weight of that settles over Natsume, staining his cheeks pink. “Oh. Huh.”

 

The grass seems to rustle on the floor of their tent, and Natsume’s head cocks curiously before he shuts his book and sits up. “Is that Lord Rei? It _is_.”

 

“He has news,” Wataru says, stretching his arms up over his head. “You won’t like it. Well-fed, really? I wouldn’t do that to you. Rei, stop compromising my virtue in the future.”

 

“What do you _mean_ you wouldn’t do it to _me?_ ” Natsume complains, twisting around in Wataru’s lap to scowl at him. “I could be eaten. I’d like it. So—“

 

It isn’t just Rei that he feels so suddenly. It’s weak, very, very weak, but that familiar sliver of energy makes Natsume freeze, gone cold where he sits, and he leaps from Wataru’s arms before he can be stopped, rushing to rip apart the flap of their tent and glare out of it. Magic crackles under his feet, dark red and bright, neon green, and Rei greets him with a wry smile as he slides from his horse. “Natsume, my child,” he says. “If you would attempt to be calm—“

 

“ _No._ ” An accusing finger jabs in Eichi’s direction, who looks more pale and wan than ever before. “Not when you have that _thing_ with you.”

 

“That thing?” Wataru joins him in the tent flap, wearing only loose leggings and an unlaced shirt, cuffs hanging unfastened. His hair is in a careless tail at the base of his neck, and he looks altogether, effortlessly _male_ in a way he usually doesn’t. His eyes widen, sighting on Eichi, and his breath catches. “Eichi,” he says softly, the word imbued with at least nine meanings.

 

Rei casually steps to the side, catching hold of Eichi’s horse’s reins when the idiot nearly tips out of the saddle in his haste to be on the ground. It’s to be expected, this kind of reaction, but it still is truly cringeworthy to watch.

 

“…Wataru.” Eichi’s hands shake visibly when he reaches up to pull down the white hood of his cloak. Whether or not it’s from nerves or from weakness is anyone’s guess at this point, but he hesitates where he stands, casting a wary look towards Natsume. “You look…” _Very, very good._

 

“Shall we find somewhere that we can speak?” Rei gently intervenes, casting a brief, apologetic look towards Wataru that probably goes unnoticed. Oh well, worth a shot. “I imagine the King, also, is weary.” It’s a hint that Rei hopes Natsume takes to _behave himself._

 

“The King is seriously weary, sore, and _cranky_ ,” Leo pipes up, looking all of those things, scowling at the assembled powerful weirdoes. “Please find the King somewhere private and _comfortable_ to be alone, or he’ll disappear and be found at the bottom of a lake.”

 

Wataru shakes his head, attempting to snap himself out of his funk. “Of course, Majesty, I wasn’t thinking. Ah, our tent is quite comfortable, and far more spacious than it appears on the outside, if you’d like? Or there’s a town nearby where the rest of the Army is bivouac’d, if you’d prefer a real bed.”

 

“I don’t know,” Leo says grumpily, staring at Eichi. “Are you going to be weird?”

 

“Ah—what?” Eichi blinks a few times, trying to refocus and _not_ stare at Wataru. He struggles, and it only has a little to do with the way Wataru _looks_. “Um…define ‘weird’, Your Majesty.”

 

“Town,” Natsume sharply interrupts, whipping back around into the tent to grab up a hastily made pack. “I’ll escort you, Majesty.”

 

“There’s no need for that, Natsume,” Rei gently tries, and Natsume scowls, not meeting his eyes, or Wataru’s, or Eichi’s, for that matter.

 

“But we’re still going. That fine with you?” Natsume abruptly asks Leo.

 

Wataru looks as if he’s about to say something, to put a hand on Natsume’s shoulder, but he pulls it back, frowning at his own feet. He doesn’t look up again until Natsume and Leo are gone, disappearing around a copse of trees. “This is…very unexpected,” he says, trying for amusing, but the motion feels oddly tired, his usual flair absent.

 

“That’s what I said when he reappeared on the king’s doorstep,” Rei wearily says, raking a hand back through his hair. “I’m sorry to bring this upon you, Wataru, but there aren’t many other options. Shall we go inside and discuss this further?”

 

Eichi opens his mouth to say something—probably a grumble towards Rei just because he exists—but what happens instead is a coughing fit that leaves him bent forward, hand clamped over his mouth.

 

“ _My lord!_ ” Wataru’s voice is strangled, and he dashes forward, catching Eichi as he pitches forward, hands strong on Eichi’s frail shoulders. It’s suddenly, oddly, as if no time has passed at all, and Eichi is still smiling that angel’s smile down at him, after stitching gossamer wings into his spine. “Are you well? Rei, open the tent, there’s a bed.”

 

Eichi’s chest heaves, and reflex makes him reach out, grabbing at Wataru to steady himself as he tries to stop coughing from sheer will power alone. “I’m sorry,” he wheezes, glancing up through the fall of his travel-mussed hair. “This was not how I wanted to meet you again.”

 

It _really_ is like time has reversed, and Rei heaves a sigh, opening the tent flap obediently. “The first and only bite he’s had since hauling himself from the depths was from my paladin,” he dryly allows. “He’s far from well.”

 

Wataru’s brow furrows, and he steers Eichi inside, laying him down on the bed that he’d so recently spent a lazy afternoon on with Natsume. It’s still warm, which makes his cheeks flush, and unconsciously, his hands move to the ties of his shirt, tugging them closer together. “You were in the Dark Depths,” he whispers. “You came back?”

 

Eichi nods shakily as he leans back, relieved to finally be _horizontal_ , and not forced to stay on a horse day in and day out. “I had to,” he breathes, reaching out a hand to catch a handful of Wataru’s hair, running his fingers through it. “It’s hardly a place for someone like me, I think.”

 

 _Disagree_ , Rei thinks, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, tying the tent flap back in place.

 

Wataru shivers, feeling Eichi’s touch as if Eichi had stroked his cheek instead of the ends of his hair. “No one who shines with that much light should be plunged into the black,” he agrees, and runs his fingertips through the air above Eichi’s lungs, urging the air inside of him to _be gentle_. It listens, of course, traveling sweetly from lips to chest and back out again, each breath easing Eichi’s spasms. “And you’ve had no jester to soothe your breaths, how terrible.”

 

Eichi’s cheeks flush, though it has nothing to do with how little air has gone into his lungs prior to this moment. “…But you seem to have done just fine, even without me,” he quietly says, his fingers curling towards his palm, bringing Wataru’s hair with them. “You even have wings still.”

 

“Again,” Wataru corrects gently, because still and again are not the same thing, even if they have the same result. That intervening time, however, is important. “And you are traveling with the King. Again, or still?”

 

“…Again, I suppose,” Eichi wryly admits, letting his head flop back down as he shuts his eyes.

 

“There’s a reason why we came all this way, of course,” Rei quietly interjects, folding his arms across his chest. “The Sorrow’s Gates. Obviously, you and Natsume have been doing what you can, but we all know they require a certain skillset to close safely. Shu closed one, and it nearly cost his life. But for Eichi…”

 

“It’s easy,” Eichi airily says, flapping a hand. “But not when I’m like this.”

 

“He needs to feed.” Rei looks at Wataru directly. “ _Properly._ ”

 

Wataru sucks in a breath, and folds his arms over his chest. “Rei,” he says quietly, eyes intent, “why would you bring him to _me_ for this? You’re the only one who’s fed him for a long period of time, safely.”

 

“Rei won’t put out,” Eichi sniffs, dramatically tossing up the little handful of Wataru’s hair that he’s been holding onto. “Some sex wizard he is.”

 

“I’m trying to help you, against all of my instincts, so _be nice,”_ Rei snaps, and looks back to Wataru huffily. “I can’t. I won’t. Personal reasons aside, Shu would _also_ kill me.”

 

Wataru worries his bottom lip, and looks away. “I can’t.”

 

Rei exhales slowly through his nose. “Why, pray tell?” he asks. “You know it doesn’t have to be sexual. You let him nibble on you for _years_ and you never as much as sucked his tongue.”

 

“You really are an uncouth slut, aren’t you.”

 

“Watch it,” Rei warns, holding up a hand. “Don’t make me remind you that I’m trying to help _again._ ”

 

Seeing Wataru embarrassed is probably a coup of some kind, but that knowledge doesn’t make him blush any less, turning to look out the tent flap. “What kind of person do you think I am?” he asks, sounding more curious than accusatory. “I won’t let anyone feed on him. I can’t offer him less of myself than he’s allowed to give away.”

 

Rei breathes in, then breathes out, and rakes both hands back through his hair, frazzled and not bothering to hide it at this point. “I understand wanting to be loyal,” he finally says. “I really do. But please understand there are few options at this point unless _we_ all want to throw ourselves at those Sorrow’s Gates. Eichi can _reason_ with them, if he’s strong enough. I—“

 

He cuts himself off, pauses, and leans to catch Wataru’s gaze again. “You won’t let anyone feed on you…if it takes something _away_. Correct?”

 

Wataru closes his eyes. “I,” he says, sounding faint, “do not appreciate you appealing to the cold logic of my nature when I am trying so hard to be as human as possible, Rei. I’m not very good at it, but it makes him happy when I try.”

 

“No, you listen to me,” Rei flatly says, stepping forward and grabbing Wataru’s hand. “Because I understand what you’re trying to do. Not only are you trying to be human, but would make Natsume furious if Eichi fed from you, correct?”

 

Wataru nods slowly. “That’s…I believe that’s correct. You won’t let him because of Shu, you must respect this.”

 

“Yes, exactly. So, we circumvent both.” Rei’s eyebrows raise. “You can’t give up your energy. _I_ don’t want him to touch me. So facilitate the go-between. He can feed from me, but _only_ through a pathway of your making.”

 

Wataru breathes in sharply. That makes sense, even if he doesn’t want it to. “But what about you? You can’t feed from me like usual if I’m to be feeding him.”

 

Rei shrugs one shoulder. “If I get off, I’m well fed,” he wryly says. “So there’s that.”

 

“I’m voting ‘yes’ in favor of this, but also, I’m furious I’m not allowed to participate,” Eichi cheerfully says, flapping a hand as he rolls onto his side. “Seems unfair.”

 

“Ah…there seems to be a bit of a miscommunication,” Wataru says warily. “Rei, I’m not sleeping with anyone else, even you.”

 

Rei heaves a sigh, folding his arms across his chest. “Does Natsume have a grudge against me as well?”

 

“Rei. You can’t have forgotten that some people practice monogamy willingly.”

 

“I haven’t. So go ask him, if that’s the issue. Or invite him. But—“ _You’re an idiot_ , Rei almost tells him, then bites his tongue. “But when is the last time _you’ve_ fed?” he lowly asks. 

 

“Oh, a hundred years or so,” Wataru says airily. “It doesn’t affect my species the way it does yours. I’m not looking for _permission_ , Rei. You decided this course of action without me, don’t be surprised that I don’t agree.”

 

Rei opens his mouth, then shuts it, and instead, spares a sideways glance towards Eichi out of the corner of his eye.

 

Eichi immediately, on cue, starts hacking again, twisting up into a ball with his knees drawn up to his chest. “I-it’s fine,” he rasps, fluttering a hand. “I’ll—I’ll be fine, I understand…wanting to be human…”

 

Wataru sighs. “My lord. You’re playing my heartstrings, it’s quite cruel. Rei, why me?”

 

“You like him,” Rei dryly says. “If I’m being honest. He doesn’t have _that_ many options, Wataru.”

 

“It does seem as if I’ve made a few enemies,” Eichi wheezes, flopping down his arm as he struggles to draw in a full breath again. “I’m sorry—I’m not trying to burden you, I…”

 

Wataru stands, dusting himself off. “Please excuse me for an evening walk,” he says, to both of them and neither at the same time. “I know you think we’ve been spinning our wheels here, but we do quite a lot of work here on the border. I’ll be back soon.”

 

“I don’t think that about you at all,” Rei says on a sigh, and promptly collapses back onto the ground. “But go on. I’ll take care of this idiot in the meantime.”

 

“Wataru.” Eichi’s eyes are lidded, and he reaches out one hand, fingers gently curling. If he focuses hard enough, he can still see it—the lingering little filaments of the wings from before, and plucking on one of those strands is instinctive. “I really am sorry.”

 

Wataru’s hand comes up to grip the edge of the tent for stability, trying not to let his knees buckle. It feels like Eichi is toying with his intestines, just as invasive, just as intimate, and he tingles from his toes up to the ends of his hair. “I’ve always caused myself far more trouble than you have, my Emperor,” he says, mouth tremulous. Then he walks out the tent, desperately searching for a flash of red hair, streaked with white.

 

Natsume, in spite of his usual, entirely anti-social nature, has decided to make an otherwise thoroughly unpleasant evening at least _somewhat_ decent. How? A proper tavern, and _booze._

 

It helps when he has someone to complain _with_ , and the fact that it’s the king doesn’t faze him in the slightest. Skirts hiked up where he sits, chin in hand, mug of ale in the other, he glowers across the table to Leo through deep red lashes.

 

“You know he’s shitty, _right?_ ” It’s probably not good to be so blunt and rude with the king, but to hell with it. Natsume would be like that even if he wasn’t already tipsy. “What if he doesn’t close the gate, huh, Milord? What if he just drags you through it down to his deep, dark lair in the shadows?”

 

“He could have.” Leo’s eyes are bleary, and he rubs them, finishing off his second enormous mug of dark, bitter ale. No, when they’re that large, Leo is pretty sure they’re called something else. What had they called them, down in the Sandlands, where he hadn’t had tutors and advisors to warn him away from strong alcohol? Tankard, that was it. This is his second tankard, which he thinks is awfully good. “Killed himself to save me. And he—he’s bad, I _know_ , but what’m I s’posed to do? Bond. Big one.” He squints. “You know those are skirts, right? Like, for women? Wasn’t sure if anyone ever had the balls to tell you. You’re so…sharp.”

 

“Men are _stupid_ ,” Natsume bluntly says, slamming his mug down onto the table. “And cursed. So why would I want to look like a man? Oh.” A small, dark portal to _somewhere_ has begun forming underneath his ale, and he closes it with a tap of one long finger. “Hate it when that happens. Anyway, bonds are stupid, too, y’know. Worse than marriage, and marriage is already _dumb._ ”

 

“Noooo,” Leo whines, leaning forward and grabbing Natsume’s hand. “You’re too young and pretty to give up on romance. Marriage is _beautiful_ , don’t you want to choose to spend your life with someone? I did. It was _great_. Have I told you how my beloved looks pregnant? I should get an artist to paint it.”

 

Natsume’s nose immediately turns up, and he smacks Leo’s hand away in short order. “In the Isles,” he flatly says, “there’s no such thing. As marriage, I mean, sure, people fuck and have babies. But marriage is useless. And women inherit, _not_ stupid people with _dicks_. ’s better like that, I think. All men,” he moodily says, slumping forward, “are cursed. Or maybe it’s just _me._ ”

 

Leo’s mouth gapes a little, and he solves that problem by pouring more beer into it. “But you’re a witch, right? So just…un-curse us.”

 

“Fuck you,” Natsume says, very articulately, and directly to the king of the realm. “Why should _I_ have to do it?”

 

“I can’t un-curse anyone,” Leo says seriously, and looks around for something to make his point. “I can’t even…un-curse this cup. Mug. Tankard, that’s it.”

 

“Kings are supposed to be descended from paladins or something,” Natsume says, waving a hand. “Learn how to uncurse things. Be a proper Enhanced. If you don’t, your—“ His nose wrinkles, and he picks his words more carefully. “Your _bonded_ will just be a shit forever. Or maybe he will anyway. That old Enhanced he used to keep around couldn’t do shit, either.”

 

Leo nods sagely, the tip of his nose dipping into his ale. “Mm, he’s not good for much. But you don’t understand. That’s all right. I’m not angry. But if you don’t have a bond, you can’t understand. It’s not understandable.” He’s pretty sure that’s a word, but not sure enough to start a fight if someone tells him he’s wrong.

 

“Yeah?” Natsume downs back half of his mug with surprising speed, slams it down onto the table again, and scowls across the table to Leo. “So explain it. Try me. I’m a wizard. I _get_ things.”

 

“Can you see it?” Leo asks, seizing on the idea. “If you use your magic eyes. Can you see the bond? Is it like—I always figured it would be like a golden cord, but now I feel like it’s maybe more like a tunnel?”

 

“Yeah. I can See it.” Natsume drums his fingers against one cheek, his head cocking as he watches Leo. “Most wizards can’t. You really wanna know?”

 

“I knew you were better,” Leo mutters. “You’re so cool for a kid. Yeah, tell me about it. You can’t ruin my life any more than it…than it did.”

 

“Hold on,” Natsume interrupts. “Did you just call me a _kid?_ ”

 

“Ah…you’re younger than me, so yeah?”

 

“Only by a couple of _years_ ,” Natsume flatly says. “I’m not a _kid_.”

 

Leo shrugs. “I still think I’m a kid. I hate being an adult, adults are _awful_.”

 

“Or you’re just dumb and like archdemons.” Natsume’s face twists, and he downs the rest of his mug in a series of quick gulps. “What is his dick _made of?_ ” he snaps, slamming it back down. “Eeeveryone I know. They’re all so—so—so _into_ him.”

 

“I think it’s just made of prick,” Leo says, a bit befuddled by the question. “Is this—I thought you could see my bond? So is it like…what do you mean _everyone_ you know?”

 

“I mean, _everyone_ I know wants to _fuck him_ or _has_ ,” Natsume growls unhappily. “So he’s obviously got something going for him, because it isn’t his personality. But yeah, I can see your bond.” His eyes unfocus in that weird, hazy way of a seer, a dull, glittery gold like some unpolished stone. “ _Your_ half’s gold.”

 

“Half?” Leo cocks his head, and the room spins gently. “Like…the half closer to me, and the half closer to him? Or like, the top and bottom the whole way?”

 

“The half closer to you. Bonds aren’t like…one cord of the same thing. They gotta meet up in the middle and connect.” Natsume wrinkles his nose. “His is all white and glowy, but then when there’s any strain, it turns black. Good.”

 

“Eh?” Leo sits up, eyes wide. “What? What kind of strain? Like, if I lean like this? Or if I’m upset?”

 

“No, like when he breathes,” Natsume deadpans, plopping his chin back down into one hand. “It’s really thin, too. Mmm. He’ll probably die. That’s better.”

 

Leo’s hands tighten into fists, lip trembling, eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I can’t help him,” he whispers. “He feeds from me, but I don’t think it helps. If he dies again, I’ll just go with him, I can’t live like that again.”

 

Natsume’s fingers drum slowly against his cheek. “Explain it to me,” he finally, begrudgingly says. “Is it just the bond? Or is it _him?_ Everything about him, everything he’s ever done to me or the people I care about—he’s just been terrible. And you don’t seem terrible, so I need it explained.”

 

Leo’s hand rakes back through his hair, and he sucks in a breath, letting it go slowly. He wants to prevaricate, wants to pull away from the question, but he’s had a lot of ale, and feels soaked inside, unable to make a decision. “He’s not like you think he is,” he finally says. “He’s different. And just so you know, I really hate having to stick up for him. Just…you were there. You know, you know I fought him. Back then, that’s what it was, it was the bond, and I did everything I could to stop it and defy it and get away from it.”

 

He waves at a rather busty tavern wench, who brings him another tankard of dark ale. “And then…he died. You…I mean, I know you were kind of…busy…but do you remember what happened? How it happened?”

 

“I saw it happen before it happened,” Natsume says, eyes still locked on Leo, unmoving, unblinking. “Telling me ‘he’s not how you think he is’ isn’t answering my question. He killed my lover. Start sticking up for him properly, or I’ll put my foot down and he _won’t_ get fed. Ever. I’m not blaming you, but you’re the one wanting me to accept him, so make me.”

 

“I’m not done.” Leo’s voice has an edge to it, though maybe that comes from the ale, softening his hesitation. “The story doesn’t end when he died. He saved me—I killed him, you know?—and he saved me anyway, _after_ I did it. And then…the dreams started. You’re a prophet, you must know about dreams that aren’t dreams.”

 

“Mmhm.” Natsume sounds decidedly skeptical, but he still doesn’t look away. “And what did he tell you, in those dreams?”

 

“All kinds of things. It was…It was like we were getting the chance I wish I’d had. Getting to know him. Like he was with me. Talking to him, him giving me advice on the country, on ruling. He’s been around so long, you know? He gave me good advice, knew who was loyal and who wasn’t. And he…he was sweet. And I felt like a better king when he was around…at first.”

 

“At first.” Natsume breathes in slowly, and swings out an arm without looking, snagging a tankard of ale definitely meant for someone else. The tavern wench just stares, then shrugs, stomping back off in a huff. “Then you went crazy from it, huh? Because he was using those dreams all along for other things.”

 

Leo frowns. “No. No, it wasn’t like that. I mean, not on purpose, it just…the bond, it was the bond. A broken bond, it was driving me mad, that’s why Rei did what he did to cut it off. But no one was helping him, where he was, so he’d do anything to come back and try to rebuild it, you know?”

 

“Okay, but…” Natsume exhales, finally straightening up from his forward slouch over the table, no matter how labor-intensive that feels while decidedly tipsy. “That’s what I _mean_. Those dreams, that’s because of the bond. So he’d ‘do anything’—even make you crazy? That’s what I hate about him. He doesn’t think about other people and how he hurts them at all. I even feel sorry for that Keito guy, and I _hate_ him.”

 

“I’ve seen Rei cast spells that hurt people,” Leo says softly. “And Shu, and Wataru, and Izumi, and Mika. But they were fighting for the people who won, in the end, and they decided that it was unavoidable. Soldiers kill people. Guards kill people. You’ve only seen him for such a tiny piece of his life—you know he saved the country like a hundred times? He’s saved thousands of lives, over and over again, but this time, he was wrong, that doesn’t mean he’s always the worst.”

 

“You’re biased because he’s nice to you.” Natsume leans forward. “He told me he wanted to put me in a cage and just feed me enough that I could still work prophecies. Think he’s over being like that?”

 

Leo snorts. “You say the meanest things of anyone I know,” he accuses. “I heard you tell the stableboy that you’d smash his skull with a hammer and send him to a dark dimension if he stepped on your skirts.”

 

“There’s a difference between saying things and actually _doing them._ He does it. He does those things. He literally put me in a box.”

 

Leo shrugs. “You asked. It’s the good things he’s done, the good advice he gives, and the gentle way he treats me. And the fact that he’s…you know. Good to be around. Smart. Clever. And when I told him what he has to do to stay, he agreed to do it, even if it kills him. So…yeah, he’s done some bad things. My lover fucked some married women and killed their husbands in duels, that’s bad, too. Rei has done some really bad things, too. Eichi has, too. I’ve done some bad things, too. I’m a king. The more powerful you are, the bigger your mistakes are, the more you hurt people with them. I hate doing that, but if you don’t want to hurt anyone…you can’t have any power, and you can’t ever do anything, and you’ll never help anyone either.”

 

Natsume wipes a hand down his face, then shrugs, done. There’s no point in trying to argue with anyone that’s bonded, he’s discovered that, but this is a particularly obnoxious case of it. “And you really think he’s going to do something _good_. You really think he’s going to behave, and he’s going to listen to you, and he’s not going to just…kill everyone else around us so he can have what he wants.” Natsume’s fingers curl back around his ale, clenching as to not tremble. “It’s not _your_ lovers that he’s always fixated on, you know.”

 

“Do you want to close the Sorrow’s Gates?” Leo demands, eyes bleary. “It almost killed Shu to do the last one, and he was about to do the rest by himself. You and Wataru have been here for a year or whatever, and this one isn’t shut. And the one in the North has wiped out almost the entire city of Sena, and no one else has an idea about how to fix it without costing lives—the lives of _my people._ What’s _your_ solution?”

 

“I don’t have one.” Natsume hugs his mug back towards his chest. “I’m not telling you not to do what you’re doing. But I’m allowed to not like it, and to think this sucks. You’re selfish for keeping him around like this—and that’s your right, I guess, he’s your bonded. It’s _my_ lover he wants, though, and I hate it. I’m allowed to hate it. Nothing you’ve said makes me hate it less, even though I’ll put up with that guy _existing_.” He exhales a hot breath. “If he ever oversteps, though—if he makes Wataru unhappy like he did before—I’ll send him back to where he came from.”

 

Leo stares at him, feeling suddenly ill, exhausted. “You didn’t want me to really explain myself,” he mutters. “You just wanted to tell me I was doing a bad thing. You didn’t care what I said. You’re not a nice kid, you’re a nasty guy.”

 

Natsume stares back at him, brow furrowing. “ _I’m_ a nasty guy? I _wanted_ you to explain yourself. All you’ve told me is nonsense about your bond and how _everyone_ does bad things sometimes, if it’s for the greater good. I don’t accept that, it’s not enough. He acts like he doesn’t have a _soul_.”

 

“You act so high and mighty,” Leo growls, “but you don’t know anything Wataru’s done, or you just don’t _care_. Or Rei. But Eichi killed _one_ person that you were in love with, and _that’s_ why you don’t like him, admit it! It’s all about _one_ person, not about anything else!”

 

“Fine, you’re right! It’s about him, and Eichi has never, _ever_ had to answer for it!”

 

Natsume’s hands slamming down onto the table spark a few curious looks to be tossed in their direction, but he pays it no mind, angry and drunk enough that even his magic starts to get away with him, sending little neon sparks through the wood underneath his fingertips. “Wataru’s done a million bad things. And Lord Rei tossed him in prison, bound down his magic, kept him that way until _I_ promised to be responsible for him. I know Lord Rei’s not perfect, either, but he’s never just killed someone because they irritated him! How would you feel if someone killed or hurt Sena, huh? And they didn’t get punished for it?” Tears well up in his eyes, and Natsume furiously wipes at them, hurriedly looking away so that Leo can’t see them.

 

“He _died_ for it!” They’re making a scene now, but Leo doesn’t care, standing and facing Natsume, bristling with a tense, nervous, stressed-out energy. “I _killed him_ for it! I—do you have any idea how it feels to _feel_ your bonded die? He’s _being_ held accountable, if he does anything—don’t you think Rei’s keeping me close to his side for a reason? He can’t strike _him_ , but he can sure as shit fuck me up if he misbehaves, do you think I haven’t figured that out yet?”

 

“You killed him because you knew it was going to get worse, not specifically because of Tsumugi!” Saying the name after so long nearly knocks the breath out of his chest, and Natsume’s lower lip trembles before he bites it hard enough to make it bleed. “He never stood trial, how is being brought back to the king’s side being held _accountable?_ I don’t _care_ about what Lord Rei is doing or why he’s doing it, it doesn’t make a difference to me! All I care about is whether or not the _one_ person I care about is going to be wrapped up in his thrall again!”

 

Leo stares at the angry young man, and after a long minute, sees the hurt child standing in oversized clothes, looking lost and terrified, and he feels like a bully. He sits heavily, shoving away his empty tankard (when had he emptied it, anyway?). “Sorry,” he mumbles, pulling his hood over his head. “I don’t have an answer for you. I hate the way he gets around Wataru, too.”

 

Natsume huffs, flopping his head back down to the table for a moment before grabbing for his ale, mostly to hold it. “Maybe tell him not to or something,” he mutters, squeezing his eyes shut. “If he cares about you, he won’t do anything, even if he doesn’t care about me.”

 

“I don’t know what to do,” Leo admits, flopping forward, leaning his cheek against the table. “I just want him to be a better person, since I’m stuck with him. He’s…my mother used to say that my grandfather was a _great_ man, but not a _good_ man. That reminds me of him.”

 

“He’s mean. You know he’s mean, right? Like really spiteful, to people he doesn’t like. You’re not like that,” Natsume quietly adds, pulling the long tail of his hair over his shoulder to fiddle with it. “Which is why it’s…been so strange, that you apologize for him.”

 

“I don’t _like_ apologizing for him,” Leo says miserably. “I know he’s done all these bad things, I know he’s awful, but he’s _also_ really good, and—I mean? I’m stuck with him. Absolutely stuck. No way around. My soul is tangled with his. No one can separate us. So? Of course I look for the good in him! I have to believe I can make him…better. Otherwise it’s just an eternity of misery for me. You get that. If I die, he dies, so he won’t let me die, not ever. It’s forever.”

 

“Okay, but start kicking his ass and _making_ him behave, though,” Natsume groans, rubbing his cheek against the side of his mug. “For _real_. Yeah, whatever, he’s a mean, nasty wizard, so what. Smack him around if you have to. You have to, with purebred other-breeds. He probably likes it, Wataru does.”

 

“No way you smack Wataru around,” Leo slurs, eyes fluttering unhappily. “I bet his prick is _enormous_.”

 

Natsume’s face flushes bright red, and it has little to do with the ale. “None of your business,” he stiffly says. “But I smack him around all I want, thanks. Powerful guys like that, if you don’t boss them around, they don’t know what to do and then they start doing bad things. Case and point, _your_ bonded.”

 

“I didn’t ask for this, you know.” Leo is whining now, but the room is spinning, so he’s not sure who the real winner is. “I only fucked him to get the Academy on my side during the war of succession, I never asked to have my soul tied to someone so scary. I was in love, I _am_ in love.”

 

“Too bad,” Natsume grumbles, slowly lifting his head and pondering his mug of ale. He finally decides to drink more of it is definitely in order, even if he’s as drunk as he’s ever been. “Now you have him. If you don’t love him, then train him. He’s so _bad_ otherwise.”

 

“You don’t understand. You don’t have a bond, you couldn’t.”

 

“Yeah. Everyone tells me that. I don’t care. No one understands being able to see the future, so I deal with that by myself and don’t let it burden people if I can help it. People with shitty bonds should do the same.”

 

“I don’t get why all the Nightcloaks like you so much. You’re real mean.”

 

“I’m not _mean._ I’m honest. You don’t deal with a lot of people like that, I’m guessing, so that’s why you think I’m _mean_ ,” Natsume sniffs. “Mainlanders. You’re all like this.”

 

“Ehh? We’re…not mainlanders,” Leo protests. “You’re an Islander.”

 

“I’m from the Isles. You’re a mainlander. All of you, every last one of you.”

 

“I’m never going to the Isles. I have a feeling they’re all brats like you.”

 

“My mother is a High Priestess of the Dragons. If she heard you talking like that, she’d bury you in sand.”

 

“I don’t even know what that means? Because, like, no, she wouldn’t,” Leo mumbles, growing less coherent by the moment. “Because I’m…the king.”

 

“No one cares about that in the Isles. We don’t answer to you.”

 

“Remind me to re-conquer those. Bastards. Ungrateful.”

 

“I’ll drop you through a portal to hell if you try,” Natsume warns him. “We like not having a king. And you’re also not a woman, so no one would like you.”

 

“But you have a king. I’m your king. I…I swear to fuck I’m the king of that. Those.”

 

“No,” Natsume _patiently_ says around another mouthful of his drink, finishing it off with another swig. “We’re separate. No king. Just priestesses. And dragons, when they show up.”

 

“I have a dragon,” Leo mutters, sliding off his chair to curl up on the floor in his cloak, which somehow feels ridiculously comfortable right now. “You don’t.”

 

Natsume stares down at him, eyebrows raising, and promptly sets his feet onto Leo’s back as a footrest. “You can’t _have_ dragons. They just _are_ , or _aren’t._ My great-great-great-great-great grandfather was a dragon.”

 

“Then your great-whatever grandma was brave.” Leo giggles, drawing his knees up to his chin. “Their seed burns, and they’ve got two pricks.”

 

Natsume makes a face, and gives Leo’s ass a swift, albeit light kick. “You’re very vulgar, especially for a _king_.”

 

“I can see up your skirts.”

 

Natsume’s foot is less gentle this time, pressing down to the back of Leo’s head to shove his face into the ground. “I’m wearing bloomers, you shit, there’s nothing to _see_. I’m telling Lord Rei that you’re like this.”

 

“I didn’t even try,” Leo admits sadly. “I miss my man. Ow, no step.”

 

“Which one?” Natsume deadpans, rubbing his heel in. “You whore.”

 

Leo, to his own surprise, bursts into tears.

 

“Wh—“ Natsume blinks, glances down, and blinks again. “Are you seriously—are you crying? Ugh, get up, stop it, I didn’t _mean it,_ not in a nasty way, Lord Rei’s a whore, too…”

 

“I n-never _wanted_ this,” Leo sobs, hiding his face in Natsume’s skirts. “B-b-before h-him, I’d only _ever_ , Izumi was the only one, I th-thought it…that forever, you know? B-but he’s not, but I am, b-but I _can’t_ , and I hate it!”

 

“Um…umm—“ Natsume is not only too drunk for this, but he’s ill-equipped for it in general. Sympathy and comfort are not two things he’s used to doling out. Still, he tries, albeit hesitantly, to lean down and pat Leo’s head. “I mean—I get that? I don’t want to be with anyone else, either…and I don’t Wataru to be, either. That’s why I’m so mad, it’s not fair. You know?”

 

“B-b-b-bonds are the w-worst!” Leo dissolves into misery, and his next several sentences aren’t anywhere close to coherent, just babbling and sobs, shaking on the floor.

 

This is _not_ ideal. Natsume heaves a heavy sigh, and slides out of his chair, shaking the remains of Leo out of his skirts to swaddle him up in his cloak instead. “Yeah, yeah, they suck, get up,” he murmurs, swaying as he grabs Leo’s arms and tries to haul him up with a grunt of effort. He’s _much_ heavier than he looks, damn it. “Sounds like you need to go to bed, Milord.”

 

“Not your lord,” Leo mutters, and at least attempts to fumble his way up, clinging to Natsume’s sleeve. “I’m a Majesty. Just leave me in the gutter.”

 

“You’re my Lord at best,” Natsume grunts, dragging Leo completely upright, no matter how he sways. “Get over it. You should like having someone talk to you like they don’t care who you are.”

 

“Nnnno,” Leo says rebelliously. “Don’t wanna.”

 

“Yeah, okay.” Natsume sighs, dragging Leo’s arm around his shoulders to pull him along, up the tavern stairs to the rented room. “Pick up your feet, Milord. Don’t make me use magic to get you up here, I’m drunk, too.”

 

There’s a flurry of commotion from some of the tavern ladies, whispering among each other, one of them clearly frantic. “I’m _telling_ you,” she was saying, wringing her hands in her skirts, “there’s a _man_ sittin’ in a tree outside, bold as you please! Like he’s a great bird or summat!”

 

“Now, Jule, hush your nonsense, you’re always making up wild stories—“

 

“He had a flute!” the girl wails. “And there was butterflies comin’ out of the end and all! He’s a demon for sure, an ill omen from the gods!”

 

Even drunk, Natsume hears those words and immediately knows. He exhales, dragging Leo up the flight of stairs necessary, and quickly steers him into his room. “Get some sleep, Milord,” he grunts, dumping Leo onto the bed. “You’ll feel better in the morning, I’m sure.”

 

Natsume tries not to wring his hands like a fretting woman as well as he closes and locks the door, and wobbles his way to his rented room, stumbles inside, and then to the window, which he flops half out of, eyes narrowed and a frown on his lips. “You’re scaring the humans,” he calls, chin propped in both hands. “And you look like a _bird._ ”

 

The last butterfly to flutter out of the flute’s end flaps its wings, flying up to the window to perch, wings slowly opening and closing. Wataru looks up at Natsume, an odd, distant little smile on his face. “Come up here,” he says softly. “Run away with me.”

 

Natsume’s frown deepens. “Did that gross demon do something?” he demands, unmoving but tense, as much not to scare the butterfly away as to appear vaguely not drunk. “I’ll go down there and beat him up. I’ll throw him back through a portal to hell.”

 

“He tried to die at me,” Wataru says lightly, but his eyes are faraway. “I find I can’t be the human self I want around them. They know how to access my nature, you see, and I’d rather be the person you think I am. So come away with me.”

 

“…I know what you _are_ , Wataru.”

 

Natsume’s eyes lid, and he lets one of his hands drop, dangling out of the window. He’s too drunk for this, probably, but it’s fine. “You think you’re lying to me all the time about what you are, but you’re not. I’m not stupid. And I can See you. All of you. It’s good.”

 

“The fact that you think that, Kitten,” Wataru says, shifting closer on the limb which sways gently, clearly supporting far less weight than a grown man carries, “makes me think that you aren’t seeing as well as you think. Ahh, but I don’t care, I don’t care, come away with me anyway. I’ll leave that other me behind where he belongs.”

 

“I’m gonna make that branch break,” Natsume flatly threatens, still unmoving where he leans from the window. “Why do _you_ always have to be the one that’s right? Bossy know-it-all.”

 

“Then perhaps I’m wrong! You’ve always seen farther than I expected, after all.” Wataru’s eyes glitter strangely. “Break my branch, then. I’d love it if you watched me fall.”

 

“No. Come in here.” Natsume’s mouth purses. “Unless you still want _him_.”

 

Wataru laughs, a mirthless, echoing sound as he straightens up, walking across the delicate branch as if it’s a tightrope, as if it’s solid ground, his soft-soled shoes silent as he lands lightly on the windowsill. “There will be talk. You a lady, and me a great bird. This is how mythologies start.”

 

“That’s good. There can be lots of stories about us.” Natsume leans back, wobbling back up to his feet and vaguely remembering to smooth his skirts when he’s still so tipsy. “You didn’t answer me, though.”

 

Wataru jumps through the window, quirking an eyebrow as if to ask, _that enough?_ “You didn’t answer mine. Run away with me, Kitten.”

 

“No.” Natsume folds his arms, scowling up at him. “They didn’t put us in the West for nothing. If you want to act human, don’t be selfish. We have to stay behind and help everyone here.”

 

“If I stay,” Wataru says patiently, “I’ll wind up being a meal between them, and not the man I want to be for you. I know them. It’ll happen.”

 

Natsume pauses, obviously warring with himself for a moment before he sighs, wipes a hand down his face, and turns away to throw himself back onto the edge of the bed. “But that needs to happen. Doesn’t it?”

 

“Oh, yes,” Wataru says softly. “The fate of the world, and all that. Rei could do it, but he won’t, so it’s up to me. Because he’s faithful to his bonded, when it suits him, but such a thing is ridiculous for _me_.”

 

“…It’s okay.” Natsume glances up, even as his hands twist in his lap. “If they need you…then it’s okay. If you need to let him feed on you, then it’s okay. If you want that, too, I mean. I…” He pauses, then shrugs, awkward, and feeling every bit the young child he’s still accused of being. “I can’t scold other people for being selfish if I’m the same way. Having you all to myself when it could fix so much…there’s nothing good about that. Right?”

 

“…Suddenly, I quite feel like throwing a tantrum,” Wataru says grumpily. “Why is everyone allowed to be selfish except me? Ah, but perhaps this is supposed to be my penance, for being at Eichi’s side, back then.” His face looks thin, drawn, wan. “I don’t want to do it, because I’ll enjoy it, and that’s no good.”

 

“ _Hey._ Neither of us get to be selfish, I’m sharing you and I _don’t_ want to,” Natsume protests, huffing as he glares up at Wataru. “You’re on loan. _Only_ on loan. You get to do this once, just once, after that, he can die and rot for all I care. You might as well enjoy it if you’ve got to do it, but don’t tell me anything about it, and if you come back smelling like him, I’ll kick your ass. I might do it, anyway.” His lower lip wobbles before he can stop it, and he looks away quickly.

 

There’s an odd rumble in the air, as if a large creature without the capacity to growl is trying to nonetheless. Wataru spins Natsume around, shoving him against the wall, his eyes reflecting the low light in a thousand multifaceted directions. “I _want_ ,” he says lowly, hands as strong as steel, “to feed on _you_. You’re the one I want to lick away, taking inside myself, until I’m so full that your essence runs through my veins and into my lungs, until I can fly farther than the sun because it’s _your_ life inside me.”

 

For just a heartbeat, his grip on Natsume’s wrists is as cold as space, the skin of Natsume’s wrists turning suddenly blue, then white.

 

With a snarl, Wataru rips himself away before that perfect skin can turn black, or before all of Natsume turns perfect white, drained by his very presence in this state. He stalks to the window, shoulders bowed as he grips the sill, gone entirely motionless. “But I’ll never be able to do that, even if I find a way to keep you by my side for a thousand years.”

 

Natsume’s breath stutters in his chest where he remains against the wall, eyes wide, sobriety burned into his blood from the thundering of his pulse alone.

 

Gingerly, he rubs at one wrist, still feeling that _chill_ , the way it almost burns from the cold. “Why not?” he finally whispers, trying not to let his voice tremble, but failing. “You…you just stopped. You could take a little, and stop yourself. I trust you.”

 

“That’s as much as I could ever take,” Wataru whispers. “Any more, and your life force wouldn’t be able to replace it. What I just took…will take you a year to replenish.”

 

“Oh.” Natsume hesitates, then steps forward on wobbly legs, reaching out to nervously touch Wataru’s arm. “And that’s…not the case with other people, I guess?” He winces. “Non-humans, right?”

 

“Nonhumans,” Wataru confirms, “who are willing, and that I…” He knows his skin is cold to the touch, and tries to make an effort of will into it, though he doesn’t try too hard. “If I don’t desire them, it won’t work. If I want someone, it happens…automatically. Unless I stop it.” _Like I have to do every second you’re near me, every hour of the day._

 

“You and Eichi used to feed from one another all the time, didn’t you.” It’s not accusing, merely an understanding, finally, of what Wataru has meant for all of those years, whenever he’s actually brought up the previous Emperor. Natsume swallows, taking another step closer and letting his head thunk into the back of Wataru’s shoulder. “That must’ve been nice.”

 

Wataru’s breath hitches, but he nods, hands curling around the windowsill. “I was…able to do things that I’d never thought were in my power. I had a purpose, and all the power I needed to fulfill that purpose, for fifty years. I…” He lets his eyes shut, briefly. “I thought that might be what it’s like to have a family.”

 

“…When we get done here, with all this stupid stuff, and save the world and whatever, we can run away off to the Isles. Then I’ll show you a family. Mommy—er, my mother, she’d spoil you. Even though you’re a man.” Natsume winds his arms slowly around Wataru’s waist from behind, in spite of how the chill of his skin makes him shiver. “I’m not gonna hold it against you, if you need to go feed on someone else. But I really, really appreciate that you’ve tried so hard not to when you’ve been with me.”

 

“I would starve for a thousand years before I hurt you,” Wataru says, and takes Natsume’s hand in his own, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. Then he leans back, closing his eyes as he relaxes into Natsume’s embrace. “I’ll be a woman for your mother if that would help. I make a rather fetching lady.”

 

“You would,” Natsume agrees, nuzzling his face into the top of Wataru’s back and most importantly, all of his hair. “But you don’t have to do that. She understands the purpose of men, she just wants them to be well-behaved. And beautiful.”

 

“I can be beautiful.”

 

“You already are, idiot.” Natsume flops into him with a huff. “Hey. I’m drunk. You’re supposed to be good and tell me I’m pretty when I’m drunk.”

 

“Are you drunk?” Wataru sounds surprised, turning in Natsume’s arms to scoop him up, peering into his face. “Why, so you are. Come to bed, Kitten. You’re the loveliest thing I’ve ever wanted.”

 

“Better,” Natsume concedes, flopping his arms around Wataru’s neck to snuggle into his chest. “We don’t have to go to bed. But you can tell me I’m pretty and good. I had to deal with the king, he’s all weepy.”

 

“Mm, I heard the whole tavern talking about it,” Wataru says, amused. “About how the king was being dressed down to the point of tears by a bratty man in a dress who was saying such _scandalous_ things. My butterflies took all the memories away, though, never fear.”

 

“He wasn’t crying until I called him a whore. It was a joke,” Natsume defensively adds. “And it’s not like being a whore is an insult, anyway. Lord Rei’s a whore. I told him that, but he cried more.”

 

“He’s delicate,” Wataru says, amused. “And he isn’t a whore, that was cruel.”

 

“It was a joke. But whatever, I apologized and put him to bed. He’s _really_ delicate, no wonder Sena’s always sooo weird with him.”

 

Wataru sighs, and scoops Natsume in his arms, holding him up easily, nuzzling into his neck. “Ah, well. Looks as if we’ve lost our jobs in any case, doesn’t it?”

 

“There’s always gonna be _something_ ,” Natsume says with a shrug, and reaches up, giving Wataru’s cheek a gentle flick. “And you’ve still got a job. Just—like I said. Don’t _tell_ me about it.”

 

Wataru nods, lips drawn together in a line. “I won’t,” he agrees. “But I won’t hide anything from you, either. If you ever want to know something, all my secrets are yours. The Book of Wataru’s pages are yours to flip at leisure.”

 

Natsume nods slowly, letting his head flop down into Wataru’s shoulder. “Then it’s fine. I’ll allow it. I hope it’s good, at least.” And because he’s still tipsy, and can’t bite his tongue, “Is Lord Rei going to be there?”

 

“Ah…unless you’d prefer he not be.” Is that the right answer? Wataru _does_ want Natsume to relax a little more.

 

“No, it’s better if he is. You can—“ Natsume trips over his own tongue when his face starts to turn red. “You can tell me about those parts. That’s it, though.”

 

Wataru tries, and mostly succeeds, to not smile. “Kitten, if you’d like, you can come as well, and participate in the parts of it that appeal to you. It’s the one time I would _ever_ allow him to touch you.”

 

“Nnnnnngggghhhhh.” It’s a tormented, noncommittal sound. Natsume cuts himself off by biting Wataru’s shoulder. “But Eichi might try to eat me,” he eventually mutters after a moment’s consideration. “So I dunno. I wanna be between you and Lord Rei and mmmaaaybe Lord Shu if he’s feeling up to it, not Eichi.”

 

“I’ll never, ever let Eichi touch you,” Wataru says mildly. “Mm, but that sounds like an awfully decent trade for letting me save the world in a way I hate. I’ll see if I can talk Rei into it.” He presses a kiss to Natsume’s nose. “If you change your mind, I’ll be in the tent. I’m going to get this over with.”

 

“…Okay.” Natsume grabs Wataru’s face in his hands, and pulls him in for a long, lingering kiss that tastes decidedly of ale before releasing him. “This better save the world,” he flatly says. “Or I’ll be _mad._ ”

 

“Understood, Kitten.” Wataru lets that taste of Natsume linger in his mouth, and exhales a deep sigh. “If the world ends, I’ll let you take any reparations out of my hide.”

 

Natsume nods, satisfied, and pries himself out of Wataru’s arms, collapsing back into the bed. “Then get out and do it. I’ll stay here tonight and make sure the king doesn’t do stupid things…unless I change my mind.”

 

“No one could ask for more.”

 

And then Wataru leaps out of the window, landing lightly three stories below, refusing to look back up at the window where his beloved waits for him to finish feeding with two demons.

 

It’s long past midnight when he reaches their camp, and steps through what he recognizes as a silencing, binding, and enclosing spell, keeping all magics from seeping out. He draws in a breath, fiddles with the hem of his shirt like a nervous schoolgirl for a moment, then pulls free the tie on the tent flap and steps inside.

 

Eichi, sprawled out on the bed, barely stirs, but it’s Rei that sits wide awake, leaning into the arm of his chair, eyes unfocused and staring off into who _knows_ where. He blinks once, twice, reorienting himself to where he is, and he looks up, catching Wataru’s gaze. “You’re back,” he says, sounding genuinely surprised. “Did you have a nice walk?”

 

“I did,” Wataru says, and kneels astride him in one long, fluid motion, sliding a hand into Rei’s hair, tilting his head up for a kiss.

 

All he can think for a moment is how _wrong_ this is—Rei’s hair is too long and curly, his chin too sharp, his shoulders too broad--and it doesn’t work. The desire won’t manifest, won’t let him feed, no matter how hungry he is. After Natsume, that’s startling. There, he has to be on his guard every time they’re within shouting distance, because that hunger is _always_ ready, always under the skin, ready to pounce, a predator stalking its beloved, yearned-for prey.

 

But then, the smell of Rei hits him, and memories accost him—a moody teenager hungry for him, sharp teeth at his throat, long lashes only opening wide when he came around, and Wataru’s hunger starts to uncoil.

 

 _Surprise_ isn’t quite the emotion. Complete shock, perhaps, because Rei honestly, _honestly_ thought that when Wataru left, that was it. He had asked too much after all, and now, this was going to be on him.

 

 _What changed?_ he wants to ask, but his mouth is occupied, and that’s better. Rei arches up, grabbing for Wataru’s shirt laces to drag him down as he kisses him, a gentle nip of his lower lip drawing just enough of Wataru’s blood to make him shiver, long tongue flicking out for a proper taste.

 

Now, Eichi stirs.

 

His eyes slit up, languidly observing the scene, though he makes no attempt to push himself up or otherwise reach out.

 

Wataru’s hunger, usually kept strictly docile, is close to the surface, eager to feed. Suddenly, it notes the appearance, the wakefulness, of another spiritual predator, a beloved, _familiar_ one. Wataru’s head whips around, eyes gone hard as diamond chips as he breathes, “Eichi,” still straddling Rei, his magic reaching hungrily for both of them as his hands do the same thing.

 

Rei sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes flicking briefly towards Eichi, now sitting up, looking all the world like he’s been drawn out of his slumber like a puppet on a string. “I told you,” he quietly warns, his hands stilling against Wataru’s chest, “that this was just you and I, and Eichi would—“

 

“That’s not as _easy_ , though,” Eichi lowly interrupts, reaching out for Wataru’s hand as much as the sliver of magic extended towards him. He latches onto it greedily, like a man quite literally starving, and immediately, he inhales breath as if it can now rush into his lungs. It’s sweet, but tempered by the underlying thrum of Rei’s magic, active and strong whether Rei wants it to be or not. “I’d forgotten,” he breathes, his fingers trembling, “what that feels like. Please, Rei.”

 

 _Damn it, damn it._ Rei hesitates still, a wary glance cast up to Wataru. It isn’t that he doesn’t _want to,_ he wants to point out, feeling his resolves wavering. At least, it’s not that he doesn’t want to just when it comes to sex, it’s just everything _else_ that’s a problem…

 

“I’m hungry.” Wataru’s voice is deeper, more hollow than usual, the bones of his face sharper, the shadows deeper, though it doesn’t ruin his beauty. He blinks slowly, forcing the hunger back just a little, just for a moment. His chest heaves, and he manages just to say, “I have…tonight. Only. So make it…make it everything you need from me. Don’t hold back, either of you.”

 

“Shit,” Rei mutters, which is the last thing he manages for a moment before he’s kissed again—viciously, with a rough hand in his hair that drags him over and leaves him panting and arching up, sort of vaguely grabbing for Wataru when Eichi has him by the mouth.

 

Eichi breaks away when he tastes blood and only then, wetting his lower lip with a swipe of his tongue that leaves his chest heaving. “I’m sure he can feed us both,” he says, eyes lidded as he looks to Wataru, his own stare hungry. “It’s the one thing his kind’s good for.”

 

 _This is how I die,_ Rei dimly thinks, _feeding two purebred eldritch horrors._ “You’re not _wrong_ ,” he groans, his head lolling back. He’s not sure when he entirely agreed to this, but it had to be somewhere in the middle of seeing how hungry Wataru truly was as well. “But you have to actually fuck me if you want to eat me—floor or bed, pick one.”

 

Wataru’s eyes are diamonds again, hard and cold and distant and shining, as his mouth curls into what can only be termed a predatory grin. On his usual face, it would look terrifying. On this face, this leaner, hungrier, less human version of himself, it just looks appropriate. “Can’t break the floor,” he rasps, and nearly tackles Rei down to it, grabbing Eichi close as he does, the predator in him offering this, this prize, offering to _share_ , the greatest offering he can make.

 

With Wataru like _this_ , it brings back a flood of memories. The two of them locking themselves within wizard towers for evenings on end, allowing themselves to relax, to drop the guise of humanity and be _what they are_ with no prying eyes to be afraid, or to think they’re lesser, somehow—

 

Eichi sucks in a sharp breath, and gives into Wataru’s pull, mouthing at his neck, nuzzling up to his ear as he drapes against him, breathing fast and hard as he tries to reel himself in. “You take him first,” he whispers, hands trembling as his nails cut into Wataru’s skin. His eyes flick down to Rei, sprawled across the ground, pliant and flushed, and he has to look away, willing his gaze to the ceiling of the tent. “If I do, I’ll tear him to pieces right now,” he admits with a ragged laugh. “I can’t, I can’t.”

 

“Glad you’re being considerate,” Rei mutters, grabbing helplessly for the laces of Wataru’s breeches. “But I don’t need to be whole after this.”

 

“You won’t be whole,” Wataru says, voice low and hard, yanking Rei’s breeches off with one hand, leaving only shreds of cloth behind. “You’ll be ours.”

 

Even around Rei, Wataru has rarely let this side of himself out. Eichi knows it. The hunger loves Eichi, loves him more than anyone, will gladly feed him and share spoils of hunting with him. Eichi is the hunger’s lover, though he was never Wataru’s so intimately.

 

He squeezes Eichi’s hand, letting the magic flow off of him, even as he drains Rei with every touch, sparking the growth of new power inside of Rei even as he does. “None of us are walking out of here the same creatures we came in,” he whispers, and covers Rei’s body with his own, his clothes simply disappearing as he stops caring about anything but feeding.

 

It’s terrible, definitely, _definitely_ , that such a thing sounds so alluring to Rei.

 

It’s with a heavy, sloppy hand that he hastily blocks off what sliver of his bond is left open. Shu doesn’t need to feel this, doesn’t need to know right now; that can be dealt with later. Eichi obviously feels him do that, and snorts out a laugh, but bites his tongue, thankfully. Rei isn’t sure he could handle his obnoxious heckling about Shu right now.

 

Rei squirms and bucks to get his legs around Wataru’s waist, automatically reaching up to grab for handfuls of his hair, only to be stopped short by Eichi’s vicetight grip about his wrists, pinning him down. The surge of arousal that sweeps through him at that leaves Rei winded, mouth parted as he breathes in deep, tongue reflexively pressing against the tips of sharp fangs that slide out unbidden. He can already feel that drain, the drag that comes from powerful creatures feeding on _him_ , but it’s an ache he _loves_.

 

“You can have him at the same time,” Wataru says, a little distracted as his hands roam Rei’s body. His senses pick up the sparks of energy he throws up in Rei’s body, and that makes him even hungrier, like watching his plate refill every time he clears it. His hands are cold, his lips are cold, and he doesn’t wait, doesn’t gentle Rei into it this time, only settles between his legs and grabs him by the neck, dragging him down onto his cock.

 

His sharp teeth bare, and his gaze flicks up to Eichi. “Mine,” he growls, hand tight on Rei’s neck, nodding down to the way Rei moves on his cock.

 

For all the desire Rei had less than a week ago to _prove_ to Eichi on such a primal level that _he_ was the one in charge, it’s so easy to melt and bend to this role, stuffed full of Wataru’s cock with strong hands on his throat, on his arms, pinning him down, yanking him where he’s needed—

 

Too much, too fast—the cold, clawing of Wataru’s power against him makes Rei gasp and shudder, spilling helplessly over his stomach as his thighs squeeze eagerly about Wataru’s waist, rutting down in spite of how he already feels sore and used. Dimly, he feels taloned fingers on his face, grabbing it, turning it to the side, and a thumb dragging his mouth open further. “Fangs up, you know better,” Eichi murmurs, and Rei’s pulse thuds hard in his ears as he obeys, nudging them up with a press of his tongue when his reflexes don’t want to work.

 

Immediately, there’s a hard, thick cock at his mouth, and Rei’s own hunger makes him lift his head to get his lips around it, nearly gagging when Eichi’s hips shove forward to intensive that reaction. His chest heaves, face flushed and ruddy as he’s filled and shoved and fucked at both ends, the drain on his magic quickly settling into a familiar loop, replaced as fast as it’s eaten away.

 

“He loves this,” Wataru breathes. He looks up through shimmering eyes, and when they see Eichi’s real form peeking out of the angelic human skin, the light from his eyes turns sharper, brighter, _deeper_. This is the one he’d wanted to cleave his soul to, the one he’d wanted to burn the world to the ground for.

 

He feeds, drinking so deeply from Rei that he feels as if he’ll burst, and drives in deep. Every thrust is an expression of that desire, of how much he _wants_ Rei, how much he wants him in every way—to fuck him, to love him, to eat him—and that just makes him more eager, more urgent, making him take Rei _harder_.

 

Only with Rei has Wataru ever fed like _this_ , fucking into someone’s body, feeling them grab at him and cling, feeling his body rousing as well as his spirit. It drives him to new, dizzying heights, and he lurches up, seizing Eichi’s mouth in the first kiss they’ve ever shared.

 

Rei’s mouth, as hot and slick as it is, is forgotten for the moment that Wataru’s lips and teeth and tongue connect with his own, and Eichi grabs at him by a handful of hair, wrenching him forward to kiss him so hard that he forgets to breathe.

 

Long, black nails almost disappear into that opalescent hair, holding Wataru fast as Eichi kisses him, panting when he finally pulls back, saliva still connecting their tongues. “That’s actually…almost too much, isn’t it?” he breathes, his other hand stroking languidly through Rei’s hair, not yanking him quite so hard onto his cock when he’s distracted by Wataru’s mouth, too. “When I’m feeding on you _and_ touching you…it’s different, than feeding on Rei and doing that.”

 

Wataru nods, his skin rippling, prickling all over as he grabs at Rei and Eichi both. Either of them would be more than enough. Together, they’re too much, and he’s never been this full, never taken so much without leaving a corpse behind. “It’s so much,” he murmurs, eyes flickering wildly. No, he’s never taken this much, not even when he’d killed. This is full to another level, full inside and out, power seeping into him like it hasn’t ever in this body. “It’s—Rei—Eichi—“

 

Rei sucks in a ragged breath through his nose before Eichi lets him up for air, gasping, trembling as he sinks down, floppy and pliant, dazed when Eichi grabs him by the arm to push him forward, up and into Wataru’s lap. He drapes his arms over Wataru’s shoulders as he grinds down instinctively, that pulsing, vibrant pull of energy spurring him on even when he can’t think except to move on Wataru’s cock. “It’s fine,” he breathes, mouthing at Wataru’s throat, his eyes lidded, glowing red. “Take as much as you need, it’s…it’s good like this, for all of us.”

 

“ _So_ good,” Eichi purrs as he slithers up behind Rei, cock sliding up against that already stretched hole, savoring how Rei hisses and arches just from that much. “So…mmn, let’s make sure we’re all well-fed, shall we?”

 

Shoving his cock inside next to Wataru’s takes work, but grabbing a fist full of Rei’s hair, holding him still, _making_ him take it—that does wonders, especially when Rei’s body is willing and eager in spite of his cursing and panting and groaning into Wataru’s neck where he slumps there, shivering and with his cock steadily dripping. Eichi’s nails rake at Rei’s sides, the heat around his cock almost unbearable, the friction where he rubs against Wataru making his vision swim, and the ability to _feed_ , unrestrained, constantly, as much as he _wants_ , making him rough and uncaring.

 

This is more than Wataru has ever touched Eichi, and that makes the feeding _so_ much more intense. The spirit flows out of him into Eichi, and watching Eichi come alive, become _himself_ again, is more of a reward than anything.

 

But the spirit he’s stealing from Rei helps, too.

 

Wataru drinks deeply, taking all the energy he can handle and breathing in more, until he’s ready to burst, until he’s ready to do _anything_. His body, his energy, rouse Rei more than a human ever could, sparking enough growth to feed an army of demons…or two ravenously hungry creatures of the Dark Depths.

 

The energy drives him to ecstasy, but the _feel_ of it, Eichi’s thick cock sliding past his own inside of Rei, is startling, grounding Wataru, never letting him fade into his spirit self, keeping him grounded, pulling both of them close with every thrust. “Mine,” he hears himself saying. “Mine, _mine_.”

 

The last time Eichi can remember being _so_ full—no, never mind. He _can’t_ remember.

 

Rei’s body is a perfect channel, that constant, regenerating energy sweet and syrupy when he sinks his teeth into it, ripping out veritable mouthfuls to swallow down, leaving ragged edges and not caring, not when that taste is so delicious, so _satisfying_ , especially when it’s a perfect mix of the Fae—because this is Wataru, so _much_ of Wataru, but so much of that delicious, deep-rooted Greenbred that flows in Rei’s veins, making this so _easy_ for all of them.

 

And fucking him is a bonus, of course.

 

Feeling Wataru’s cock rubbing against his own inside of Rei is mind-numbing. Eichi rocks back, panting out each breath, grabbing and pawing at Rei’s hips to pull him down onto them when his legs tremble and wobble. “Try again,” Eichi rasps, his eyes lidded, glowing inhumanly deep blue before he leans forward, over Rei’s shoulder, taking a snap towards Wataru’s throat. “You’re _mine_. Both of you.”

 

Wataru has never been so satisfied, enough that he starts to gasp, to groan with the sizzle of it under his skin, enough that he writhes and bucks up into Rei, spilling deep inside him, making his cock slip past Eichi’s, slick and hard when he finishes. His chin thunks down onto Rei’s shoulder, and he shudders hard, eyes squeezed closed, trying as hard as he can to stay conscious, to stay _himself_ when the powers moving through him are so little of his own. “Too much,” he whispers, grabbing Eichi’s arm. “Take, take more, you can take more, I want you powerful enough to do _anything_ —“

 

Eichi snarls, the sound low and rasping in Rei’s ear as he surges forward, thrusting in hard, the slap of skin against skin falling on deaf ears. He reaches forward, grabbing a handful of Wataru’s hair to pull him close, keeping Rei sandwiched so tightly between them that it’s easy to lurch forward and sink his teeth into Wataru’s throat, drawing blood swiftly to the surface and swallowing it down almost in time to the thud of his own pulse sounding in his ears.

 

That last bite tips him over the edge. Physically, it’s enough to make him come, spilling inside slick and sticky and making Rei arch with that sudden, overfullness. _Magically_ , however— _he_ feels overfull, something he hasn’t felt in centuries, and Eichi releases Wataru’s throat, panting as he drops his chin to Rei’s sweaty shoulder, trembling as he shuts his eyes to get a grip on that magic, reining it in, forcing it to settle and fit within him instead of spilling over.

 

Rei wilts into Wataru’s chest, a shaking, overstimulated pile of limbs when the swift, relentless overflow of his _own_ magic refuses to listen, and he can feel the result of that directly underneath them. He exhales a sound that’s mostly a gurgle, nosing at Wataru’s throat, rubbing back against Eichi like a cat, and decides to ignore the fact that the inside of Wataru’s tent is _going_ to become overtaken by grass.

 

Wataru, to his embarrassment, is the last one to be able to contain himself, brimming with power the likes of which he’s never held at one time before. He hiccups softly, squeezing his eyes shut, reciting ancient poetry backwards to get himself to focus, with only mild success. Finally, he sucks in another breath, and when his eyes open again, they’re blue, and look as human as he ever manages. “I feel,” he says dreamily, “like I could assemble a mountain out of spare parts.”

 

“Oh, likewise,” Eichi breathes, mouthing at the back of Rei’s neck as he moves his hair out of the way, nipping lightly when he feels Rei shiver.

 

“Stoooop, I can’t…I can’t stop until you do,” Rei whines, hands shaking as he clutches at Wataru’s shoulders, as if that’ll offer some kind of solace. “P…petting is fine, but that’s more than petting, ah, I can’t…even see straight, gods…”

 

“Mmm, that’s not discouraging.” Even still, Eichi pauses, hooking his chin back atop Rei’s shoulder as he looks at Wataru, a slow, sated smile pulling at his lips. “Don’t _you_ look pleased with yourself.”

 

Wataru lifts Rei off of both of their cocks, gathering him close for the kind of petting Wataru has always favored, nails carding gently against his scalp. “I suppose this feels a bit like cheating on one’s diet with nine whole pies,” he muses, a bit wickedly. “Ah…no wonder we never did that before. We would have been quite too much for the world to deal with.”

 

Rei sags like his strings have been cut, so heavily sated that he flops back into Wataru’s arms with a low, rumbling purring sound. Cheeks flushed, eyes glazed, he buries his face into Wataru’s shoulder and bites, though it’s not to feed, just to hold onto him at some animalistic, base level.

 

“I feel…like I could do anything,” Eichi giddily sighs, crawling forward to slump into Wataru’sside, breathing in his scent. “Which is the point, I suppose? Ah, I can breathe, that’s so good, I forgot what it felt like to _breathe_.”

 

“I can see music again,” Wataru says wistfully. “I’d forgotten how that feels. Rei, what does it feel like to you?”

 

A huffy little breath escapes against Wataru’s throat before Rei lifts his head. “Like a hundred fluffy dogs are walking all over my skin.”

 

“Is that…ideal?” Eichi manages.

 

“Gods. _Yes._ ”

 

“Mm, you never got your twelve little ones and one big one, did you, my friend?”

 

“I got the big one,” Rei mumbles forlornly. “Big and fluffy, rideable, very good. But the twelve little ones, no. Shu’s allergic to dogs.”

 

Wataru laughs, the sound a a merry tinkling of bells. “Of course he is.”

 

“I’m truly suffering, don’t laugh at me,” Rei whines, slowly starting to slide down Wataru’s side to the ground. “Ah, my bones are gone, I think…”

 

“There he goes,” Eichi remarks, nestling further up into Wataru’s side and winding his arms about his waist. “The only thing that ever keeps you upright is a prick in you.”

 

Rei waves a hand slowly from where he lays. “Correct.”

 

“You two,” Wataru breathes, staring at both of them, stroking both of them with long, cool fingers. “Do you have any idea what you _look_ like, to my Sight? Wrapped up in your bonds, but…” Tears well in his eyes. “They’re _beautiful_.”

 

“Go ahead and cast a net over that prophet and join our very exclusive club,” Eichi teases, leaning his head into Wataru’s shoulder and relishing the ability to exist without constantly fighting not to cough and wheeze. Overactive, wriggly shoots of grass keep bothering his bare thighs, but that’s just going to happen when Rei is like this. “I know you want to.”

 

“Bonds don’t work like that, idiot,” comes Rei’s muffled response as he rolls onto his stomach with a wincing sigh. He kicks a foot weakly, obviously still satisfied, but definitely _feeling_ it. “I swear, two of you is like having a thousand men.”

 

“Only a thousand? Each, surely,” Wataru says with a laugh, feeling delightfully sated. “Ah, I fear that he and I will be the only Nightcloaks without them for eternity. Unfair, perhaps, but I’ve always relished being an oddity among oddities. My ancestral winds, has it always felt this _good_ to be full, or have I just misremembered?”

 

“You’ve misremembered, it’s always good to be full,” Rei sighs, plopping his head down onto folded arms, stretching out completely. “You’re making a judgement too early. Eichi met Leo when Leo was a child; they didn’t actually form a bond until much, much later.”

 

“Mm, until they tried to create a little Prince-Emperor hybrid baby, I remember,” Wataru assures Rei. “I assure you, I’ve already attempted such things. Really, it’s fine, I wouldn’t wish him to be bound to me. I can’t think of a worse fate.”

 

“Wrong, there could be nothing better,” Eichi laments, draping himself into Wataru’s side and directly stuffing his face into his hair. “You’re so _beautiful_ , and strong, and talented, and—“

 

“I think it was better when you two were afraid to hold hands,” Rei grouses, flicking a bit of dirt onto them.

 

Wataru turns his head and neatly catches the dirt in his mouth, swallowing it as if Rei had tossed a grape. “Don’t start fighting, you two. I’m basking.”

 

“We’re always fighting,” is the response that follows in near-unison, albeit with Rei sounding far more exasperated, and Eichi’s voice muffled into Wataru’s hair.

 

“The only good thing about him is his prick,” Rei grumpily says.

 

“And the only good thing about _him_ is how he fucks,” Eichi says with a shrug of a shoulder, starting to pet and braid Wataru’s hair. “But I can accept that. Don’t eat dirt, darling, there’s no nutritional value, I assure you.”

 

“Mm? Oh, I don’t know. All life comes from the dirt, doesn’t it?” Wataru’s lashes flutter at Eichi, even as his hand twines into Rei’s hair. “You both…are so dear to me. Being able to do this for both of you fills my heart, my loves.”

 

“Why couldn’t it have been like this all along?” Eichi whines. “It still could be, don’t you think? This is good, isn’t it? We’d always be well-fed, and happy, and so, _so_ powerful…”

 

“You know very well why it can’t be like this,” Rei sighs, propping his chin into one hand to push himself up into Wataru’s touch. “It’s all your fault.”

 

“That’s not fair. I never understood what we were having a lover’s spat about in the first place.”

 

“Which is the problem. You don’t understand humans at all.” Rei’s eyes lid. “Lest you two forget, _I_ actually have human blood in me.”

 

“Which really just makes you weaker in this realm,” Wataru drawls, “if we felt like pressing the issue. When we’re well-fed, at any rate. Ah, Rei, I so _envy_ you, being able to feed from those you love without ending their precious lives. That must be so deliciously intimate, do you find it satisfies you more when it’s from someone beloved?”

 

“I wasn’t talking about how powerful or not it made me, but all right,” Rei wearily says, deciding not to point out that their missing of the point _is_ the point. Ah, well.

 

“It _does_ make you tastier, though. Bloodbreds are sort of…meh, but humans? And Fae? A perfect combination.”

 

Rei tries not to roll his eyes. “Thank you, Eichi, I know. But, yes, I do think it’s more satisfying to feed from my favorites.” He tips his head back to press a quick kiss to the inside of Wataru’s wrist. “It’s always been like that.”

 

Wataru cups Rei’s face gently, thumb stroking the line of his jaw. “No wonder I feel so full after having the both of you, then,” he says softly. “There are so few people in the world I love so much as you two.”

 

Rei heaves a soft sigh, and slowly, painstakingly pushes himself up into a sitting position, raking a hand back through his hair. “Ask him to behave,” he quietly says, talking to Wataru as if Eichi isn’t right there next to him, “and all of this will be much easier in the future. This isn’t just about Shu, though that is a big part of it. You know he’s terrible about Natsume, too, and that’s inexcusable.”

 

“You’re being too hard on me,” Eichi sniffs, unmoving from his draped position against Wataru’s side. “I can’t help it.”

 

“But you can. You won’t listen to me, though, because you feel the need to compete with me.”

 

“You fucked my _mate_.”

 

“And you did worse to mine. Wataru,” Rei exasperatedly tries again, “please. I’m willing to just drop _all_ of this if he stops, going forward.”

 

The second they start to fight, the power starts to sour in Wataru’s spirit, as if he’d eaten music that had just turned discordant. He stands, settling both of them on the floor of his tent, and dusts off his hands, shaking out his hair. “Perhaps this can only be once, after all, if you won’t stop needling each other. Goodbye then, my dear friends.”

 

“No,” Rei abruptly says, grabbing him by the hair and yanking him back down. “Stop that. I’m asking you to help. I’m trying not to needle, I want it over with. But you get to help, _you’re_ the one in love with him.”

 

Eichi’s mouth purses, but he sits back, folding his hands up in his lap. “Maybe I’ve been…unnecessarily combative,” he begrudgingly allows. “But I was hungry. Now I’m not. I’m much more pleasant when I’m well-fed.”

 

Wataru settles, but he’s sharply on-edge, wary of any of their snapping. “There’s no reason for you to hate each other in the future, just based on what’s happened in the past,” he says, stroking each of their hands, trying to spin soothing words, easing them both, letting his skills wash over both of them. “If Rei can stop bringing up all the things you’ve done, and Eichi can stop making advances on Shu, would everyone be pleased? And perhaps, this may not need to be one time only, which would be _delightful_ for the entire world? Perhaps? And we can all be full?”

 

“…I will drop it and never mention it again,” Rei slowly agrees, allowing the tension in his shoulders to slowly dissipate. “But he _has_ to leave Shu alone.”

 

Eichi heaves a long-suffering sigh. “If I must,” he grumbles. “But I just—“

 

“No. Not even one excuse. Just—leave him alone. He’s not me, he won’t fight back, he’ll just be upset.”

 

Eichi sighs again. “I still want to _talk_ to him, though.”

 

“Rei, if you’re going to be talking to the King,” Wataru says, feeling like a mediator, or perhaps a counselor, “you’ve got to allow him to talk to Shu. Now,” he adds, holding up a finger, “not allow him to bully or needle. Eichi, you _mustn’t_ , if you ever want this to happen again, and if you want to keep the king safe.”

 

“So we’re acknowledging that you’re using Leo as leverage over me!”

 

Rei stares back at him, incredulous. “I wouldn’t have to if you’d just be _polite_. I’m not stupid, it’s the only thing I _can_ do when you won’t listen to reason.”

 

Eichi huffs, grumbles, then flops back, flat onto his back in the dirt of Wataru’s tent. “Fine. _Fine._ I’ll be nice. And if I’m not, you can kick my ass. I just really, really, _really_ —“

 

“I know. Want to eat him.”

 

“Not even that. He just has the best reactions when he’s bothered.” Eichi exhales a slow breath through his nose. “The _best_.”

 

Rei stares back at Wataru, near tears. “I don’t talk about his mate like that. You _know_ I don’t.”

 

Wataru holds up both his hands. “All right,” he calls loudly. “The problem is, you’re trying to both use both Shadowlands rules _and_ the laws of the realm. If we’re playing by the rules of the realm, talking is free, bothering is legal, and you _did_ take his mate to bed, whatever your reasons were. If we are using Shadowlands rules, things change. Make your choices, I’ll be Chosen Arbiter, and we can settle this once and for all, because I _cannot_ handle hearing any more about this.”

 

Rei and Eichi stare at one another for a moment before Rei finally, begrudgingly says, “We’re in this realm. So this realm’s rules are the rules.”

 

“By that logic, if you go into the Shadowlands, then those are the rules we’re following.”

 

“Fine.”

 

“Fine.” Eichi leans back with a little huff of breath. “So by that logic, neither of us have much recourse.”

 

“Unless we want to go to the Shadowlands and have a Contest,” Wataru says pleasantly, “or unless either of you would like to challenge to a rather quaint duel—with _swords_ —for the honor of your mates. If not, you’ll settle this like the humans we’re all pretending to be, yes? Full humans, sorry to Rei for any unintentional racism.”

 

“No offense taken,” Rei wearily says, his eyebrows raising. “Do you want to come to the Shadowlands with me right now?”

 

“Mmmm, dunno, do you want to have a proper duel instead? No, you can’t call that paladin as your champion.”

 

Rei sighs, mussing his own hair with both hands. “I will literally never, _ever_ even consider putting hands on Leo again if you can just think twice about what you say around Shu. That’s all I’m asking, I swear.”

 

“…Swear you won’t touch him again.”

 

“Swear you’ll play nice with Shu, then.”

 

There’s a pause, and Rei shifts irritably before throwing up a hand. “Fine. I’ll offer up my neck first. I swear I won’t sleep with Leo again. I have no interest, anyway,it was just to protect him.”

 

The air around Wataru flutters eagerly, as if even his breath is made of microscopic winged things, rustling at the sounds of anything like _bonds_ and _deals_ and _bargains_. He’s more tense than either Eichi or Rei, eyes alight, waiting on tenterhooks for Eichi’s response.

 

“…Then I swear I’ll be civil with and about Shu, and not deliberately harass him.” It _pains_ him to promise that, but needs must, if it means Rei’s hands won’t be on Leo again. Eichi exhales slowly, and extends his hand. “Happy?”

 

Rei eyes him warily, but eventually nods, slowly reaching out to take Eichi’s hand. “Happy enough. Thank you.”

 

Little fireworks burst above Wataru’s head, and he blushes, waving a hand through them, shoving them back into dust. “Sorry, sorry. I just get so excited about bargains. Hold still, I’m binding you both.” Before they can object, he reaches out a hand, closing it over both of their clasped ones, and lets his magic flash through them. “There! Now whoever breaks it first forfeits all of their spirit to my hunger. Sounds fair to me!”

 

“Oh, don’t encourage me, I’m definitely going to break it first if that’s the case,” Eichi cheerfully says, plastering himself to Wataru with an enthusiastic swing of his arms around his shoulders. “Pleeease eat my spirit.”

 

Rei rolls his eyes, but doesn’t look perturbed beyond that. “That sounds fair to me, too,” he softly says, his shoulders slumping a bit in relief. “Thank you.”

 

Wataru beams. “So! We’ve solved the problem and saved the world, and the only casualty was one poor jester’s honor. That seems acceptable, even to me.”

 

“Your honor? No, shh, shh, no casualties, you’re well fed and happy, aren’t you?” Eichi coos, stroking Wataru’s hair. “I know I am. Ahh, we should do that again, just imagine—“

 

“Don’t even talk about it, I’ll get horny,” Rei grouses, collapsing back into the dirt. “I’ll start overflowing, this place will turn into a jungle…no one here can properly seal me if I get too full off of creatures like you.”

 

“I can’t hold anything else,” Wataru agrees. “Ahh, why couldn’t we have done this fifty years ago, before my Kitten was born?”

 

“Because Eichi was being a little shit,” Rei sniffs.

 

“I wasn’t even being bad back then! Is this still about that blowjob centuries ago?”

 

“Yes! No means no, you bastard.”

 

Wataru blinks. “I wasn’t around for that, was I? I feel like I would have remembered. Which way was it? I do agree with Rei, consent is an important bargain.”

 

“You weren’t around,” Rei says, flopping over onto his side and stretching out as far as possible with a hiss of breath. “It was after we first came to the human realm together, and then parted ways. I bloomed, then got bored of the Academy for a few years, then came back at Eichi’s insistence, and we were…” He flutters a hand. “Involved.”

 

“This was before the paladin,” Eichi dryly quips. “Back when Rei was young and sweet.”

 

“Yes, now I’m old and bitter, I know. Anyway, that’s when. Before you two even knew of one another beyond a passing glance.” Rei starts visibly sulking. “We already were fighting constantly, so I took every mission I could away from the Academy. That’s when I met Kaoru. When I _did_ come back to the Academy because of the Sorrow’s Gates opening, you were so _awful_ and pushy—“

 

“I was hungry!”

 

“That’s always your excuse. I don’t care. I’m hungry all the time, and I don’t try to stuff my dick down the throat of people that don’t want it.”

 

“Some people like that kind of game.”

 

“I’m not one of them. My magic doesn’t _work_ like that.” Rei sniffs. “Anyway. That’s when.”

 

Wataru sighs. “Must we hash out every disagreement we’ve ever had, between any of us? I can mediate if I have to, but I must confess I feel there are better uses of our time and power at the moment. The Sorrow’s Gates spring to mind.”

 

“That’s not every disagreement, trust me,”Eichi lightly says. “He’s giving you the abridged version. Goodness, do you ever remember he’s a moody teenager?”

 

“I am _not_.” Rei growls, but doesn’t do anything beyond that. “And you _asked_ , Wataru. But yes, obviously, I’d prefer the Sorrow’s Gates to be taken care of. Properly, this time.”

 

“I’m going out in the morning,” Eichi says with a shrug. “There’s no rush. It’s stable right now, no increased output…and if that changes, I’ll wake up and deal with it. Seeee, everything’s lovely when I’m fed and capable.”

 

That soothes Wataru’s nerves a bit, and he relaxes, leaning on Eichi’s shoulder, letting his hair brush over all that soft skin. “We’re all fed,” he points out. “Have you two any assignment for me? Surely I can manage nearly anything. Do you need an ocean drained? A mountain evaporated? A baby born?”

 

“I could have a baby,” Rei lightly says, wavering a moment longer before giving in, and tossing himself across both of their laps. “Or you could acquire me several small dogs. But a child would be better, I’m suffering watching that half-blood drake.”

 

Wataru blinks. He considers it, rolling the idea over in his mind, and murmurs, “Right now…ah, spirits of air and darkness, I could do it. It would take an enormous amount of energy, but you’re fertile enough as a person….I could do it. Do you have the seed with you?”

 

Rei pauses at that, staring up at Wataru, head slowly tilting against his thigh. “Could you? Really?”

 

“If he believes he can, he can,” Eichi says with a little shrug, looping his arms around one of Wataru’s as he nestles into his side.

 

“I know that, but it still seems so…” Rei trails off, now starting to overthink it. “Implausible. I’ve been studying Sena for _months_ , it just shouldn’t be possible with wizards…”

 

“I’m not just a wizard, Rei,” Wataru says mildly, nestling into Eichi. “But if you want me to do it, it’ll have to be quite soon, or we’ll have to do the whole ritual again. And you’ve already grown seedling through the floor of my only tent. And my bed.”

 

“…What the hell, why not,” Rei mutters, pushing himself upright to drag himself over to his bags.

 

“Do you…do you really carry Shu’s seed along with you?”

 

“Yes? I’m a sex wizard, he’s my mate, sometimes I need it.”

 

Eichi opens his mouth, then shuts it, then opens it again, unable to help himself: “How do you…collect it? I mean, he’s definitely not…depositing it anywhere.”

 

Rei rolls his eyes as he rifles through his pack. “You’re honestly the most vulgar creature.”

 

Wataru feels the power pulse under his skin, excited to try something he never has, even the tips of his hair starting to rise, as if freed from the constraints of gravity. “Amazing, amazing! I’ve never quite been invited to do such a thing before, but right now, yes, yes, I can do it! Amazing!”

 

“No, I’m serious. Do you just—not swallow? Spit it out, and then—“

 

“Shh,” Rei firmly shushes as he turns around, dangling a cobalt bottle on a suede cord. “Do I need it _in me?_ Am I growing a uterus? Do I need to shapeshift for this? Being a woman is a hassle, and that piping doesn’t work, either, I assure you.”

 

Some of the eagerness in Wataru’s face starts to die away, and he frowns. “Mm, I did think you’d be a woman, yes. But I suppose you don’t need to. I do need a body to grow the child in, though.” He hesitates, then reaches out for Rei’s hand, squeezing gently. “It’s Shu’s child you want? You’re certain?”

 

“What about a horrific demon-paladin hybrid baby?” Eichi eagerly presses, leaning in. “Do you carry around Kaoru’s, too? Ooh, I wanna see what that would look like. What would its _magic_ do…”

 

“Don’t make me overthink this more than I already am!” Rei huffily says, flipping the bottle back into his palm. “I don’t know, I don’t want to be a woman for months on end,” he laments. “Shu won’t touch me and I can’t handle that.”

 

“Overthinking is the enemy of my magic, everyone knows this,” Wataru sing-songs, holding his hand out for the vial. “It’s fine if you stay like this, but I think someone will have to cut the child out when it’s ready, so that’s up to you.”

 

“You should really have Kaoru’s instead. It would be _very_ tasty, I bet.”

 

“Why do you only ever think about food?” Rei whines, wavering a moment longer before hesitantly handing the vial over. “I suppose I’ve done more horrifying magical things in the past, and I’m on good terms with a very talented healer…”

 

Wataru gives Rei one more look. “I do hope I’m not disrupting the sacred bond between husband and wife, my friend. Last chance!”

 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Rei hurriedly says after a weighted pause, snatching the bottle away hastily. “Fine, you’re right, just, ugh, hold on, hold on.”

 

“This is fascinating,” Eichi remarks, watching Rei dive back into his bags. “I’ve never particularly understood the urge for children, but luckily, my bonded already has one on the way. _Far_ less hassle.” He pauses, and thinks. “Okay, but—how would its magic work? Would it just cancel out? Or would it directly oppose one another in a true mess inside…”

 

“Here,” Rei interrupts, shoving a different vial into Wataru’s hand. “Now stop making me think about it and do it before I change my mind again.” He hesitates, one last time. “If this works—doing it again shouldn’t be too difficult…right?”

 

Wataru beams. “I have no idea! Ah, you’re so prepared, that’s good. But you know the way my magic works, my friend. If it works now, I’ll always be able to do it, as long as I’m this well fed. If it doesn’t, it probably never will! Lie down and don’t move, please!”

 

“The last time I did a ritual this weird, I accidentally summoned a dragon,” Rei bemoans, flopping back and throwing an arm over his face. “Fuck it. I’m ready, let’s do it.”

 

Wataru thinks fondly that Natsume would plot the whole thing out and chart outcomes, making notes about possibilities and chemical reactions. Wataru doesn’t work that way, hasn’t _ever_ worked that way, and the vial is warm in his palm before it suddenly vanishes. Wataru’s eyes blaze, and his hand shoots out to splay on Rei’s flat stomach. He just has enough time to warn breathlessly, “This…is going to be weird…”

 

And then Rei’s belly starts to grow.

 

Rei yelps, making a valiant attempt not to move even when he can absolutely _feel_ organs rearranging themselves to make room for what should _not_ be there. It’s much stranger than shapeshifting, though he _supposes_ it’s along the same vein, if he worriedly tries to reason with it. “Um—just so we’re clear, it doesn’t need to actually be born _now_ , that would actually be _so_ inconvenient—“

 

“Ahh, that sure is something, isn’t it?” Eichi excitedly says, leaning over to watch. “Hmm, is it going to be able to nurse from you if you stay in a man’s body?”

 

“I’m not thinking that far ahead! Wataru, how sure—is this really all right?” Rei hastily reels his own magic in when its hackles raise defensively on its own.

 

Wataru laughs helplessly, falling back against Eichi, head thrown back. “I didn’t intend that! Whoops! Ah, better call your healer!”

 

“I am absolutely _not_ calling Sena here right now! Why do I agree to _anything_ with either of you, you’re always the worst at planning,” Rei hisses, giving Wataru a swift kick in the side as he rolls, gingerly, to sit up, running his fingers down his stomach. “There’s no _way_ it’s _that_ close to full term—right?”

 

“Dunno, I don’t like kids,” Eichi cheerfully says, petting Wataru’s hair. “But maybe you should take it easy until you’re sure. Oh, don’t go to the Shadowlands yet, that will definitely speed it up…”

 

“I’m aware of what the Shadowlands does,” Rei wearily says, gaze cast down, sort of fascinated by the swell of his belly. “I sort of rule over it. Hmm. Well, we’re just going to let this happen, aren’t we,” he sighs, grabbing up his cloak to swing it around his shoulders before flopping back to the ground in a swaddle of it.

 

“Oooh, that’s going to make a few paladins sooo maaad—“

 

“I did it, I did it!” Wataru is delighted with himself, kicking his legs in the air, looking a bit wild. “Ah, that took so much effort, but it felt so good! Give me another challenge! I’ll give you one of Shu’s next!”

 

As he says it, he watches Rei’s stomach shift, as if something inside is attempting to get comfortable. “Oh, my. I think this might be happening.”

 

“You will _wait_ to give me one of Shu’s,” Rei hisses, curling up into a neat little ball. “That feels _so_ strange. Shit—I should probably give Kaoru a little bit of a warning…”

 

“You’re a terrible wife,” Eichi remarks, avoiding Wataru’s flailing arms only just barely.

 

“I don’t need to hear any remarks from you. Oh, thank goodness I was planning on skipping out on the North, it’s just far too cold up there anyway,” Rei sighs, shutting his eyes. “If you want something to do, Wataru, give me a bird that can flutter back to High Harbor in a day or so with a proper message. Otherwise, I _desperately_ want to nap.”

 

“Amazing!”

 

A bird flutters through the tent flap, a white finch that perches gently on Rei’s stomach, head cocked as if listening. “Tell him anything,” Wataru says, wiping a tear of mirth away from his eyes. “I’ll see to it that your boy in white receives the note.”

 

“You two need to stop acting like this is so very funny! When I breed an army of successors to my throne, you’ll see.”

 

“Ahh, there it is. At least his children will be beautiful, if not unholy abominations.”

 

Rei bares his fangs at Eichi before snatching the bird up in his hands and rolling away, cradling it to his chest for what one can only assumed is whispered nothings.

 

“This is going to be delightful to watch,” Eichi lightly says, leaning back into Wataru’s side. “Mm, Wataru~ if you could do anything for me, what would it be? Put your own little winged babies inside me? Oh, please don’t, actually, I truly hate the idea.”

 

“Nonsense,” Wataru says airily, basking in being the center of attention, and of admiration. “I’d braid an extra life for you into my hair, and keep it there safely, just in case anyone ever got lucky with a knife again.”

 

“Unlikely, that,” Eichi lightly says, though the thought makes him immediately tense. He hesitates, then leans in, nosing gently at Wataru’s shoulder. “I never wanted to leave,” he quietly says. “Especially you. You know that, don’t you?”

 

Wataru’s energy ebbs, and he encircles an arm around Eichi’s shoulders, pulling him close. “I never wanted to be stolen away from you, my beautiful wings ripped out of my back,” he says softly. “I never wanted to fail you. Those were not…ideal days.”

 

“You should’ve been my mate.” The words ache, and Eichi sucks in a sharp breath as he presses closer, winding his arms around Wataru to keep himself close. “Ah, sorry. Not to ruin the mood, I just think about it a lot these days. Coming back, finding out that you were still here, too…”

 

Wataru’s mouth twists wryly. “It all went a bit wrong, didn’t it?” he asks, brushing a hair back from Eichi’s face. “I thought it would be you and I, outlasting time itself. Instead, it’s you and I and our bossy little redheaded humans. Fate certainly has a sense of humor, doesn’t she?”

 

Eichi’s nose wrinkles, and he turns his head to press a kiss to Wataru’s palm. “Honestly—how did we _both_ end up with the same sort of brat? All of us, with dreadful little humans. Even that vicious Wavebred—“

 

“He has some good taste, that one,” Rei offers up, not bothering to roll to face them.

 

“Indeed.” Eichi sighs, looking up at Wataru. “I didn’t want you to think I left _you_ behind, either,” he finally says. “I didn’t. Before, I mean. I didn’t _want_ to. Taking my eyes from you…something like that is something I only did under great duress.”

 

Wataru’s smile is a little sad. “Of course, my Lord. But the contract was broken, nonetheless.” He shrugs, and flicks his fingers, and the bird shoots out of the tent, hell-bent on its mission as Wataru watches after it. “You looked away from me, yes, under duress, but…ah, you still looked away from me. The bargain, you know. it must be observed.”

 

“I’m not arguing that. Just…disappointed. In myself, mostly, but still, disappointed.” Eichi sighs, his own smile weary. “And sad. I miss you.”

 

“There! Did it!”

 

Rei shoots up into a sitting position, looking extremely pleased with himself—and with a much flatter stomach, to boot. At least, at first glance, that’s what it appears to be. “I can’t wander around looking pregnant, obviously. Ahh, thank goodness I’ve been toying around with illusions all the more these past few years…”

 

“That’s convincing, that one,” Eichi agrees, draping himself into Wataru’s chest. “If you don’t want it to eat its way out of you, though, you should really stay in contact with that pretty healer.”

 

“He’s already following us,” Rei says with a heaving sigh. “I’ve smelled him for days. Ah, don’t tell Leo, he’ll flip.”

 

“Oh, good,” Wataru says, looking a little relieved. “I was worried I’d have to cut you open myself, and I just washed my hands last week. A joke, a joke! But really, Rei, that’s the best illusion I’ve seen. I think you won’t need it for long, though.”

 

“Don’t say that, this was an impulsive decision and I am not prepared for the consequences,” Rei hisses, climbing to his feet with the full weight of added bulk still bothering his lanky frame. “I’m just relieved you’re both well-fed now. Now I can relax somewhat, and slink off into the Shadowlands sooner if I need to.”

 

“I hope you actually _summoned_ your pretty paladin,” Eichi idly says. “I want to see his face when this all comes to fruition, actually.”

 

“It’s none of your business what I said to him.” Wataru’s bed is now his, and Rei collapses down into it, relieved to have something softer to press his bones into. “The one who takes the most dick gets the bed, that’s always the rule.”

 

“That _is_ the rule,” Wataru agrees, then stands, stretching out as if he’s a human who needs to un-kink his muscles. “Well, I’m off to find my favorite brat and deliberately not tell him any of this. That’s his rule, so please don’t break it for me.”

 

“Of course, of course,” Rei sighs, stretching out with a pleased noise. “You should tell him that I love him dearly, though.”

 

“Leo can enjoy a night without me. I imagine he needs the rest, anyway,” Eichi says with a little shrug, then slowly inches his way towards the bed. “Share, I’m old and pathetic and I’ll catch a cold on the ground.”

 

Rei growls, but shifts moodily, grumbling as he slithers over to make room for Eichi. “Fine. But no more sex, I’m not taking the chance of carrying _your_ brat.”

 

Seeing the two of them together again, after so many years, makes Wataru’s chest ache pleasantly, and he leaves the tent before they can start bickering again.

 

He bathes in a cool stream, letting the imprints of Eichi and Rei wash away, leaving him as spiritually clean as he can be after the night they’d had, and certainly physically free of any trace elements they’d left on him. He robes himself with strands of the wind he’s braided together, swirling them around himself until they coalesce into cloth, white robes settling around his shoulders.

 

Then he scales the side of the Inn, and raps gently on Natsume’s window.

 

It’s scarcely half a minute before the window creaks open, and Natsume slowly pokes his head out, bleary-eyed from attempted sleep and faded drunkenness. “You’re back?” he asks, brow furrowing. In nothing but his underclothes—a dressing shirt and loose linen shorts, hair down and falling pin-straight to his hips, blood-red and white-streaked—he looks far more boyish than he normally would, and certainly younger, minus the usual corsetry and frills. “I thought you would’ve stayed the night.”

 

“Did I not?” Wataru should feel more surprised, he thinks, over the way his chest tightens and flutters at the sight of _his boy_ , looking like nothing but himself, heart-meltingly enticing. All the archdemons in all the world, apparently cannot compare to a small, angry young man with strange dreams. “Time passed quite strangely. Sorry to wake you, Kitten, go back to sleep. I’ll sing you a soothing song.”

 

“You were gone only _half_ the night, you strange bird,” Natsume mutters, his eyes lidding as he looks Wataru up and down. There’s a strange feeling to him, almost as if Wataru is full to the brim, but it’s held so tightly in that even Natsume can’t properly judge it. “Just come in and to bed. Properly, this time,” he adds, stepping back from the window. “I don’t sleep as well without my pillow.”

 

Wataru locks (and seals) the window behind himself, letting the clothes he’d created shift into a simple nightshirt, nothing that would get in the way of holding Natsume close. _It felt like a week,_ he wants to say, but that’s talking about it, so instead he pulls back the rumpled covers and gets into a human bed without shadows flickering over it or green shoots sprouting through the bottom, and pulls Natsume close, smelling cloth and ale and sweat. It’s all very human, and as full as he is of alien magic, Wataru lets his eyes close, nuzzling into Natsume’s hair. “Sleep all you can, Kitten. Tomorrow will have less Sorrow for us all.”

 

 _So it worked, then?_ Natsume almost asks, but that’s breaking his own rule. No, he _doesn’t_ want to know. He really doesn’t, but it’s still something of a relief to know, instinctively, that it _did_ work—and better yet, Wataru doesn’t smell of the archdemon that Natsume finds so distasteful. Instead—“You smell good,” he murmurs, burying his face into Wataru’s neck, breathing in deep as he curls his fingers into handfuls of Wataru’s hair. “You’re staying the night for sure? You don’t have to go help?”

 

“I,” Wataru says delicately, “have paid any dues I may have owed the world. I was always explicitly clear that my place is here with you. Don’t try to get rid of me just yet, I’m exhausted.” He isn’t, but humans sleep, and he’s so eager to try to be one of them again.

 

“Not getting rid of you,” Natsume grumbles, throwing a leg over Wataru’s hip to wallow against him. “Making you stay. Wasn’t gonna let you go. You smell like trees.”

 

“Good, I love trees. I bathed in the river, and let a river nymph strip away some of my skin as payment, so that was amazing. I replaced it, of course.”

 

“No more skin stripping,” Natsume mumbles, stifling a yawn into Wataru’s throat. He nudges and nuzzles at his skin, burying himself into the solid _warmth_ of Wataru, none of that terrifying iciness that Wataru had shown him before. “Nnf. You’re mine. Can’t give it away if it’s mine.”

 

“Can I not? Well! I do suppose you’re right, Kitten. I’d better lie still and be supportive, hadn’t I?” Wataru smiles, and tightens his arms around Natsume, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I could never bear to infringe upon your property.”

 


	27. Chapter 27

 

The sun begins to rise, and Eichi slowly rises with it, peeling himself from the bed with a stretch and a long sigh.

 

Rei, for his part, doesn’t stir. If anything, he just sleeps more deeply, sprawled out over the little bed and taking up most of the room. Eichi dresses quietly, shrugging his cloak on and fastening it neatly, a lean barrier against the cold.

 

It doesn’t even _feel_ cold to him, which speaks volumes. Normally, Eichi always feels cold, but flushed with power, barely able to contain it, he’s too _warm_ , and breathing in the cold air makes him feel like he’ll just end up breathing out fire instead.

 

If he still feels like that after closing this gate, maybe he _will_.

 

The gate isn’t close. In fact, it’s a solid hour’s ride away. By the time he reaches it, a teaming mass of darkness, seeping into the ground, destroying everything around it in as a slow, creeping sludge—

 

Ah, he almost feels at home.

 

It whispers to him. Reaches for him, calls his name in distinct Shadowtongue, the name demons know him to have, not the name humans call him. It would almost be a shame to close the gate, to stop the outpouring of Inglings, to cut off another way for more of his kind to come out into this realm—

 

But no, not here, not in the West. He can reconsider those options in the North, after speaking to some of his own.

 

Eichi breathes in, plucks and pulls at all corners of the gate, and lets it drink him in, draw on his power, and lull itself into false, calm security, not needing to feel as if it must _feed_ on every single thing around it.

 

Then, he shuts it—without a bang, without fireworks, without any loss of life…except maybe the disgusting little Inglings pawing their way out even as he cinches it shut.

 

Neat, tidy control, that’s the way this whole _world_ should be run. Not that anyone else will listen to him, but oh well. He’s done his promised job…well, part one of it. He can still feel the slow drain of his power as the gate sinks back into oblivion, and the tightness in his chest starts to return as he starts to feel _empty_ again, though at least it isn’t so unpleasant this time around.

 

The ride back towards the encampment feels longer. By the time he returns, it takes effort not to simply tip off the side of his horse, and eventually, he actually does, sliding right off the side with a wobble as his legs lose the ability to grip a damned thing. He dangles from his horse’s neck for a moment, breathing in shallowly, seeing white around the edges of his vision and shivering at the cold that he can now clearly feel. Never mind. It _is_ so unpleasant this time around. This, Eichi dimly remembers, is why feeding _constantly_ is such a necessity. Reserves, he needs _reserves_.

 

“You did it, didn’t you?”

 

The King’s voice is soft, a little hoarse from the rough night he’s had, and brimming with a fierce, quiet pride. Leo sits by the campfire in a hooded cloak, poking the embers with a stick, hunched against the cold, but his eyes are bright as they focus on Eichi. “I can tell. You’re better than any of them, aren’t you?”

 

Eichi’s eyes refocus from where they want to roll into the back of his head. Being unconscious sounds lovely at the moment, but there’s Leo, so alas, he’s here, awake and pretending to be functional. “When I’m here,” he simply says, “in the human realm.”

 

And then his legs give out, bringing him to slide straight down the side of his horse and to the ground in a heap. “Whoops,” he lightly says, flushed and sweating in spite of the cold. “Ah. Actually, maybe I’m no good at all.”

 

Leo is at his side in a heartbeat, warm hands touching him all over, checking him for injury. His emotions are high, yearning and wanting and _loving_ all at once, all of it focused on Eichi, resonating hard along their bond. “You can’t die, all right?” he whispers. “What do you need?”

 

“I won’t _die_ , I’ll just sort of waste away into a gross little husk,” Eichi dazedly says, reaching up to grab one of Leo’s hands and bring it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to it with lips that definitely feel too chilled. “Who cares, right? I did what you asked. Well,” he amends, “ _here_. North next, but I need…another meal.”

 

Leo worries at his bottom lip. “Is that…will they let you do it again?” Natsume’s warning last night is pretty much the last thing he can remember, and he’d awakened frightened, certain when he’d found the campsite empty that Eichi had died and the bond just hadn’t killed him yet. “Eichi. You know I…you know I like you as a person, right?”

 

Eichi laughs at that, the sound a little unhinged in all of its breathiness. “Do you?” he teases, his eyes lidded as he peers up at Leo from where he sits in the dirt. “Because I’m not a very good one. Person, I mean, I’m really not a good person. I think I’m a better dog.”

 

“I’d be sad if you died,” Leo says quietly, ignoring Eichi being stupid. “Not just because…I mean, even if it didn’t kill me or effect me. I had a bad night, don’t make fun of me.”

 

Eichi breathes in slowly, his eyes slitted, glowing that strange, blue glow as he cocks his head in a way that’s far more reptilian than anything an actual human would do. “…You mean that,” he says, sounding almost in awe. “Even after all that I’ve put you through, you mean it.”

 

Leo’s lower lip trembles, and he leans in close, just enough that his shoulder nudges against Eichi’s, hesitant to engage more contact, knowing his body’s reaction whenever he does. He feels raw all over, shaky and empty, like he’s been rubbed with rough salt all night. The idea of losing Eichi again, of having that empty space at his side where a tall, shining angel should be, has haunted his dreams all night, leaving him running and screaming after a vanishing figure. “You’re…so much better than you think you are,” he whispers, not meeting Eichi’s eyes. “You don’t have to be the most powerful man in the kingdom to be worth something, you know. You can just be you. _You’re_ what I’m scared to lose.”

 

Eichi’s grasp on Leo’s hand tightens, and he yanks him down, directly into his chest, crushing him against him. He’s certain he feels too cold to be pleasant to be held by, and his limbs are shaking, trembling out of his control as he buries his face into Leo’s hair, inhaling slow and deep. “You’re a little stupid, you know,” he whispers. “I’m expensive to keep and feed.”

 

“I have money,” Leo says, with a little sniff against Eichi’s cloak, his face pressed against Eichi’s shoulder as he trembles, hands fisting in the soft cloth falling all around him. “I’m the king. I can get soft beds and strong wine and good food. And m-me.”

 

“I want to eat _you,_ is the problem.” Eichi’s arms tighten, his nails biting in too harshly for a moment before he reels himself in, reminding himself this isn’t Wataru, this isn’t Rei, he can’t just bite and claw at his leisure. He sucks in a shaky breath, loosening his grasp. “Ahh, but I’ll be good. You’re so warm, that can’t be right, you _look_ cold, how long have you been waiting out here?”

 

Leo shrugs, feeling every bit the little bird with delicate bones and a warbling song. “Dunno. Before sunrise. I drank too much last night and had bad dreams. I’d rather you eat me than leave me.”

 

Eichi’s head slowly tips to the side, expression quizzical. “Why do you think I’m going to leave you?”

 

“I can’t feed you.” Leo’s voice wavers a little, and he refuses to look up into Eichi’s face. “And you won’t get along with the people who will feed you. So you’re either going to go find someone who can, or you’re going to die and leave me again.”

 

“Oh. You’re so cute.” Eichi lifts his hands to gently place them to either side of Leo’s face, lifting up his head. “First of all, you’re my mate. Whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me,” he cheerfully says. “You’re mine. Second of all…mmnn, some pacts were made last night. Rei and I have worked out our disagreements, or at least decided to drop it for now. It’ll be fine. I can eat, within reason.”

 

Leo’s eyes fill with tears of relief, and he sags, so pleased that he nearly faints. “Really? _Really?_ You two aren’t going to be…doing _that_ anymore?”

 

“Awww, you didn’t like it when I got all demon-y? I thought you said it was sexy.”

 

Leo huffs, cheeks flushing. “I didn’t like it when you were fighting him all the time, and you were hurting each other. I like it when you get protective and defensive and demon-y. Different.”

 

“Well,” Eichi says, shrugging, “like with all of the problems Rei and I have always had, it begins and ends with sex, which is the only way we can properly communicate, so that happened, and that’s done. I know, I know, he said he wasn’t going to, but in the heat of the moment, things happen—which was why I was able to close that gate so _quietly._ I’m very, very hungry again, though. More food before we go North, please.”

 

“Does that mean…more Rei?” Leo asks, without any judgment. “Or did feeding like that mean you found a way to feed off of me?”

 

“If I feed from you, I’ll kill you,” Eichi bluntly says, giving Leo’s waist a surprisingly gentle squeeze. “So…Rei, or Wataru…something along those lines, if I’m supposed to close the Northern gate just like this one. It’s bigger, too, so it’ll be more difficult. And Hiyori’s mate is up there,” he says, rolling his eyes. “So if I have to convince him and his drude pet to leave…ugh. A mess. Needless to say, I need to _really_ eat.”

 

“So eat.” Leo leans forward, and plans a kiss on the tip of Eichi’s nose. “You know I don’t care if you spread that prick around, right? If anyone’s got enough to share, it’s you. I _want_ you to eat, it’s good for the world to have you in it.”

 

“It’s really good that you don’t care what I do with my prick, because I really don’t understand the concept of monogamy,” Eichi brightly admits. “You’re stroking my ego too much, lovely.”

 

“Well, I had a bad night,” Leo mutters, looking down. “So take me somewhere and spoil me a little, Rei won’t be awake to feed you for hours.”

 

“Ahh, he’s in quite a state, anyway,” Eichi says with a snort of amusement, slowly forcing himself up to his feet and hoisting Leo up with him before he wobbles and slithers right back down. “You actually get to help _me_ , thanks. Anyway, back to making fun of Rei.”

 

Leo laughs, and stands, hefting Eichi’s arm around his shoulder. “Come on, you big scary demon. Let your poor, weak human mate carry you around. Man, no one else has this issue with their eldritch horror mate…”

 

“I toooold you, I’m expensive to keep and feed,” Eichi bemoans, his legs threatening to give out again even when he’s braced against Leo. It’s awkward, being that much taller than Leo, but needs must. “Both Wataru and Rei don’t eat like I do. Wataru stores up energy for centuries, and Rei can _also_ eat like a human and actually put _that_ energy to use. And this body is fully assembled by that energy, too, so it’s different!”

 

“Centuries?” Leo asks, intrigued. “How come I don’t know anything about Wataru showing up in history over and over? If I look hard enough in the histories, and sort through fake names, I can find lots and lots of mentions of you and Rei and even Kaoru. But I’ve never heard anything about someone who looks and sounds like him, and I feel like he’s bad at living a quiet life. Nnh, this sucks, I’m just going to carry you.”

 

“Mm, really? My knight in shining armor. I’m too tall, apologies in advance.” Eichi’s lips twitch, amused. “Wataru changes his shape quite often _because_ he’s so terrible at living a quiet life. This current form, though—he keeps coming back to it. Apparently, he looked the same when he was Rei’s pet ages ago.”

 

“I wish I could change my shape,” Leo says wistfully. “Then I could be enormous and toss you over my shoulder. It isn’t good at all that most people can toss the king over their shoulder.”

 

“But that’s extremely adorable, I think,” Eichi sighs, leaning his weight heavily into Leo’s side. “Wataru’s tent is just over there,” he says, gesturing a broad hand. “We can go there. Rei’s there, but he’s out like a light and he’ll stay that way for most of the day.”

 

Leo hesitates. “If Natsume is there, I’d rather…not.”

 

“Mm? Oh, the prophet, no, he’s not back yet. Neither of them are.” Eichi’s eyebrows raise. “Did he give you a hard time, kitty?”

 

A huff comes from Leo’s mouth, and he hauls Eichi more strongly, dumping him onto the ground nearby Rei. It still feels crazy to him, that Eichi and Rei can be around each other without trying to kill each other, but if that’s what Eichi says is going on, he’ll go along for the ride. “He saw me…not at my best. Also, he’s kind of a bitch. He was real mean to me!”

 

“Ah, how terrible,” Eichi wheezes, collapsing into the ground immediately as his legs decide right then and there to dissolve. Rei doesn’t stir, still stretched out as long as possible in Wataru’s bed, blanket pulled almost entirely over his head. “What did he say? I believe you, by the way, I think he’s a little wretch.”

 

“He…doesn’t like you very much,” Leo says faintly, flopping down next to Eichi. “He basically thinks anyone who supports you should die, because you never paid for what you did to Tsumugi. They were in love, I guess.”

 

Ooh. Hmm. That’s not where Eichi wants the conversation to go. “Sounds like Natsume’s a moody child, but all right,” he says with a dismissive shrug. “Tsumugi was incapable of feeling that kind of emotion, so I doubt they were ever ‘in love.’ He just wants a reason to be angry with me. I really don’t care.”

 

Leo shifts, a little uncomfortable. “I wish you hadn’t said that. You killed his lover. Not in a war or anything, but out of spite. I spent all night upset about this, you know.”

 

“…Being upset about what? Tsumugi dying? Or Natsume being…the way he is?”

 

“About not knowing how to defend you against those allegations,” Leo says softly. “It was…awful.”

 

“I don’t need you to defend me,” Eichi says, flopping entirely onto his back with a long sigh, shutting his eyes. “And I don’t want to talk about Tsumugi. Ever. If Natsume wants to hate me because of him, fine. He’ll grow up and get over it eventually.”

 

Leo’s frown is unhappy, and he draws back into himself, eyes unfocusing. “Okay.”

 

Humans, Eichi grumpily concludes, are always _so_ difficult. This is why it’s best to stick to true, pureblooded _creatures_ , and why even Rei is terribly obnoxious to him on most days. “What?” he finally settles upon, grabbing for Leo’s arm to drag him down on top of him. “What is it? Explain it to me, I don’t know why you’re so upset.”

 

Leo wants to lash out, wants to growl and snarl at Eichi for not automatically _understanding_ —but he’s trying, isn’t he? Isn’t that good enough? His mouth twists, and he’s still tense, but he relaxes as much as he can, not trying to escape. “It’s upsetting,” he says, trying to put it into words, “because the person I think you are—the person you are in my mind—would care. And if you don’t, then it…it kind of means you’re not that person. And that makes me upset.”

 

“…Let me be very clear,” Eichi slowly says, releasing Leo’s arm to stroke a hand down his back instead. “I specifically do not want to talk about Tsumugi. I specifically do _not_ care about what Natsume has to say, on several different levels. That doesn’t mean I don’t care about other people or things, though I’m notoriously bad about it. I just—don’t care about that situation. I’m not really going to budge on it, either.”

 

Leo’s lips press together, and he turns his face away. “But you cared about him. I know you did.”

 

“Cared. Past tense. I told you, I don’t want to talk about him.”

 

“That time with you was the worst time of my life,” Leo says flatly. “And it was because of you.”

 

Eichi’s mouth purses. “He was the first person I tried to have a bond with,” he shortly says. “And he betrayed me, and left me, and joined Rei’s rebellion against me years before it became big enough to do anything. I don’t want to talk about him.”

 

“When most people are mad at someone, they don’t just _kill_ them, though,” Leo presses. “If someone isn’t trying to kill you, you shouldn’t kill them, unless it’s a matter of honor! That’s just, that’s just morals!”

 

“He _was_ trying to kill me. He knew how, for good.”

 

Leo sighs, and looks away, out the tent flap. “Forget it. You asked why I was upset, I told you, your explanation doesn’t change anything.”

 

“I’d love to drop it, but you being so irritated with me gives me a headache,” Eichi grouses, rolling over in short order to shove Leo flat down into the ground. “I’m hungry, I don’t feel good, and I just did something _very_ amazing. Stop being upset with me. Please?”

 

Eichi’s body is strong and long, and he smells better than anything. And Tsumugi _was_ trying to kill him, Leo supposes…

 

He swallows hard, hands splayed on Eichi’s chest. “If I drop it, can we pretend I won the fight? I’ll be real cute if I ever bring it up.”

 

“…I assumed you won because you were still ticked off with me,” Eichi admits, blinking. “But I suppose we can make it official.”

 

Leo beams, and brushes a kiss across Eichi’s jaw. “Okay. Then I’m good. You had a good night, I had a bad one, but you’re having a bad day, so I’ll pamper you. What would make you feel better? Wait, hold on, I want to try something.”

 

He takes Eichi’s head in his hands, concentrates on the way he feels, all the good things about Eichi, all the delight, all the pride, all the love he feels in this man. “Can you feel that?”

 

Eichi exhales a slow breath, his eyes fluttering shut as he slumps down, head thunking down into Leo’s shoulder. “Mmnnn. Yeah. Tell me again that I’m better than everyone else.”

 

“You’re better than everyone else,” Leo says seriously, letting the emotions roil inside of him, feeding into Eichi. “You’re what me and this country need. You make me better.”

 

“High praise, from someone who likes to remind me how I ruined his life,” Eichi sighs, though he melts underneath the praise. It goes far deeper than just words, and takes off some of the chill he feels from the outdoors and the lack of his own energy. “I think you’re getting better at that,” he mumbles. “The whole…emotional transference thing. It’s good.”

 

Leo’s face is tense in concentration, letting his emotions wash through the bond. “Natsume told me you were dying. I’m trying to force us to become telepathic.”

 

“…He said I was dying?” Eichi sounds vaguely amused at that. “Fascinating. I mean, I am, right now. And I was, before. I usually am, when I can’t eat.”

 

“He said your part of the bond was all black.” Leo lets go of the emotions, feeling drained. “That it withered away whenever you weren’t breathing right. I don’t want you to live miserable.”

 

“Ahhh. Interesting.” Eichi’s mouth twitches at the corners, and he presses an affectionate kiss to Leo’s neck. “He’s probably not wrong. Whenever I don’t feed, whenever I’m sick…nothing feels quite right. Feeding regularly, that’s the best plan of action.”

 

Despite the heavy conversation, Leo feels himself start to melt at that first kiss, letting his head tilt back. “Nn…you want me to wake Rei up?”

 

“He’ll bite you. He’s in demon mode, the sun rising is no good for him.” Eichi nuzzles up underneath Leo’s chin. “Wataru got bored and knocked him up.”

 

“Hot. Do that to me. I tell you that all the time.”

 

“Ummm…it’s nice in theory only. Besides, you have a kid on the way already? And you’re the king, I don’t think that would go over well for you to suddenly be pregnant.”

 

Leo’s eyes widen suddenly. “Wait. What? You weren’t joking?”

 

“Oh, no, not at all. Wataru can do anything when he’s been fed, if he believes in it. And we’re stupid when we’re all fed, that’s what magic is all about, I think. Just _doing_ things because you can.”

 

Leo shakes his head slowly, squinting at Rei’s covered form. “So you closed the Gate, Wataru made a baby…what stupid thing did Rei do?”

 

“I mean…he absolutely created an abomination. Wataru didn’t sire the thing.”

 

“Well, how should I know? You said you were doing a bunch of stupid things.”

 

“Fair enough. Anyway, Rei made a tasty dessert for me, as far as I’m concerned. That thing’s going to be half-paladin, mixed all up with fae with just a touch of that bitter Bloodbred aftertaste. It doesn’t get better than that.”

 

“Ah…” Leo makes a face. “You sound like you want to eat his baby. You might want to rephrase that.”

 

“But I definitely want to eat it.”

 

“See, that, that’s the kind of behavior that humans don’t do!”

 

“And I wouldn’t tell _other_ humans that I want to do that. Do you want me to bite my tongue around you, too?” Eichi mildly asks. “I thought you wanted me to be honest.”

 

Leo squints at Eichi, trying to see if he’s joking or not. “Do you mean drink its blood?” he asks finally. “Or like, snap off a finger?”

 

“With paladins, I usually want to eat them whole.”

 

“How big does your mouth go?”

 

“Some?”

 

“Huh. I’m trying to figure out if that’s sexy or horrifying.”

 

“It can be both, I think.” Eichi beams down at him. “Anyway. It’s really hard for me not to eat it right out of him. If I get weird about it, you can hit me.”

 

“I don’t want to be your guardian,” Leo grumbles. “Not when I’m running on a serious kiss deficit. I’m pretty cute, but have been receiving a disturbingly low amount of kisses today.”

 

“Fine, you get a few. But you have to roll me back over and deliver them, because it’s hard for me to do all the work right now.”

 

Leo starts to roll them, then has to gather his strength and get a little more leverage. “Oof, why are you so _heavy!_ ”

 

Nonetheless, he gets Eichi onto his back, following him over to rub his nose against Eichi’s. “I’m cutting off your legs, you’ll be easier to carry.”

 

“But they’re long and shapely,” Eichi complains, flopping his arms around Leo before he leans up to steal a kiss directly from his mouth. “You’d miss them, I think. Ahh, you’re warm. That’s nice.”

 

“I’d miss the way you move when you’re inside me,” Leo allows, stealing a kiss in return, a little slower this time. “Mmnh. Let me know when you really start feeling bad, I honestly will wake Rei and Wataru and drag them over. You saved a lot of lives today, they should reward that.”

 

“…I think you underestimate how hungry I really am all the time,” Eichi says, sort of amused, and he strokes his fingers slowly down Leo’s spine. “I must be good at hiding it. Don’t wake them. Rei will be upset and Wataru will feel obligated, and that’s never going to put food in my mouth. I’ll wait another day. Then maybe that pretty paladin will be here, and I can nibble on him again…”

 

“I wish I had endless energy, or whatever it is you eat,” Leo says softly. “I wish I could be the one to feed you. I know, it’s dumb, but…I do. I feel useless when you’re suffering.”

 

“You’re not useless.” Eichi leans up, pressing a kiss to Leo’s nose. “You’re my mate. That alone is important, you know. I don’t want to slurp you down until there’s nothing left, so just…mm, exist for now. That’s good.”

 

“…Just let me know if there’s something else I can do,” Leo says finally. “When you figure it out. I know you must be thinking of it.”

 

“I wouldn’t _mind_ being kept in opulence for the rest of my life,” Eichi cheerfully says. “Oh, and I’ll eventually drag you down to the dark depths with me when you try to get old and die, but that’ll be awhile.”

 

“Not for a while,” Leo agrees. “I’m supposed to be king first. And I’ve got a baby coming, I think. But yeah, I totally want to see the Dark Depths before I die, no one ever has!”

 

“…You’re sort of adorably optimistic sometimes,” Eichi settles upon, a smile tugging on his lips. “Good. Stay like that.”

 

“I’m not optimistic,” Leo says firmly. “I’m jaded and old and very bitter. Just ask the council, they’re pretty sure I’m the worst.”

 

“Ummm…no. You’re cute. People like Rei are moody and bitter, you’re much more desirable.”

 

Leo smirks. “You seemed to like Rei well enough last night, huh? From the way he’s passed out, I’d say you liked him a _few_ times.”

 

“He’s digesting. And pregnant. But he’s fun enough, I won’t lie about that. I don’t have to worry about pulling myself back, when it’s another demon, and sometimes, I really just want to tear something apart, sooo…”

 

Leo blinks, but finally shrugs. “All right, if that’s how you want to be. Then I’m glad he has you around, and you have him. Nnh, can I wake him up yet? I want you to feed, I want to go _North_ , I want to finish all of this and go home, I want to meet my son and show him off to the whole country. I want to live my life between you and Izumi, running my country right.”

 

Eichi’s eyes slide over to Rei, and he shrugs, petting a hand down Leo’s back. “You can try. Just watch your hands, he might bite.”

 

“Eh? I don’t want to get bitten by a vampire! He’s horny when you wake him up, I don’t want you two to fight again.”

 

“We aren’t going to fight…about that, at least. We made a pact. See, I’m behaving, I’m good.”

 

Leo arches a brow. “So you don’t mind if I wake him up, and he rolls over on me and kisses me?”

 

“He won’t.” Eichi looks smug. “If he does that, Wataru will eat him.”

 

“I mean? That definitely sounds like something he’d like? You, too.”

 

“No, no, not the good kind of eating. The entire spirit kind. He’ll die.”

 

“Oh.” Leo shrugs. “All right, then.”

 

He crawls over to the blanket over Rei, and pokes it with a finger. “Hey, Demon King. Rei. There’s a tiny fluffy dog and it’s sad because no one is squishing its feet.”

 

The blanket stirs, shifts, and one of Rei’s hands slide out from underneath it, pale and black-nailed. “You,” he says, voice muffled as he doesn’t lift his head or uncover it, “are a liar.”

 

“See? Not even a single kiss attempt.”

 

“I want Kaoru,” Rei grumbles, sounding very much like a petulant child as he slowly uncovers his head, flops over onto his stomach, and lies right back down, arms splayed forward. “Has he arrived yet? I—“

 

He pauses, pupils suddenly slitting as his gaze swivels to Eichi. “It’s closed.”

 

“So quietly you didn’t even wake up,” Eichi says sweetly, wiggling his fingers. “You’re welcome. And no, Kaoru hasn’t arrived.”

 

“Isn’t Eichi good when he wants to be?” Leo asks, beaming, tugging on Eichi’s hand. “He’s good. I know. Hey, I heard you’re _pregnant_ , what’s that like?”

 

“Uncomfortable.” The sun starting to pour in through the flaps of the tent makes Rei wince, and he slowly slumps back down, burying his face into the pillow. “Wake me up when Kaoru is here, please.”

 

“But I’m _hungry_ ,” Eichi complains, starting to sulk. “Reiiii, I’ll die—“

 

“No. Not right now. You wait. I want to talk to Kaoru first.”

 

Eichi grumbles, shifting unhappily. “I can’t stay here when there’s food dangling right underneath my nose,” he mutters, starting to pick himself up.

 

“I’ll come,” Leo says quickly, not wanting to be around Rei when he’s so prickly. “Nn, while we’re in the West, take me to try some of the roasted game, I heard they spread sauce all over it before cooking.”

 

“Yes, yes, I’ll feed you. At least one of us should enjoy a good meal, huh?”

 

Eichi slings an arm around Leo’s shoulders, pulling him forward and towards the tent flap, sparing a last, longing glance at the energy that flutters around Rei to only his sight. Oh, well. Later, perhaps, Rei won’t be so disagreeable.

 

It’s another hour at least before swift hoofbeats sound, then frantic bootsteps, then Kaoru is throwing open the tent flap, eyes wide as he stares wildly around, sword in hand. “Where? What’s the danger? Are you all right? Get behind me!”

 

Rei slowly blinks awake, grimacing at the sunlight that now _pours_ in, and he slowly pulls the blanket further over his head. “Be a good boy and shut out the sun,” he whines. “You rode so fast and I appreciate it, but I’m feeling _very_ sensitive right now. No one’s trying to kill me, not yet.”

 

Kaoru lets out a huge breath, letting the tent flap fall closed behind him, then diligently cinching it, stuffing his sword back into his sheath. “You sounded like the world was ending in your message. Of course I rode fast.”

 

“It’s not ending, but it is important for you to be here,” Rei says, flopping an arm over the side of the bed, reaching out for him. “Kaoru. I’m having your child.”

 

Kaoru sighs, sitting slowly down next to the overgrown bed, stretching out his legs with a grimace. “Yeah? Good, good. Just give me a few minutes, my balls are bruised from riding that hard. I can’t say I’m that surprised you called me for that.”

 

“I’m not certain you heard me correctly. I’m not asking for sex—not yet, anyway. I’m literally having your child.”

 

Kaoru frowns, turning to face Rei. “Can you like, actually explain instead of trying to make me guess? I’m tired, love.”

 

Rei pauses, then decides that his own words are fairly shitty, and he dissolves his neatly made illusion as he rolls onto his side, and grabs Kaoru’s hand, dragging it to his swollen belly. “Like I said,” he patiently says. “We, ah. We had too much magic floating around. Rituals and spells and things happened. You know, like they do, with wizards and old creatures. It seemed like a good idea.”

 

Kaoru’s eyes go as wide as saucers, and if he weren’t sitting already, he’d have fallen down. As it is, he just looks sort of stunned, as if none of the words he knows are appropriate for the situation. “You…but…I wasn’t here?”

 

“Yeeees…but I have a collection.”

 

“Ohhh, right, the seed vials, I forgot about those.” Kaoru still looks flummoxed, but he has been married to Rei for quite a while, and it’s not absolutely the weirdest or scariest thing that has happened to them. “Huh. I really…had given up. It’s—you’re happy, right?”

 

“Thrilled. Terrified?” Rei adds with a nervous little laugh, reaching down to grab at Kaoru’s hand. “But thrilled. The timing is terrible, I know. Thank you for not scolding me. I…did not think this through, but having you here makes it make more sense.”

 

Kaoru squeezes Rei’s hand, and leans in, kissing him softly. “I’m not really that sure how to feel,” he admits. “I mean…I’m happy, of course? But we’ve talked about it for two hundred years, I never thought it’d really happen.”

 

“It seems fake,” Rei agrees with a wry smile, flopping his head back down wearily and letting the illusion settle back down, hiding the obvious for the time being. It’s safer, if nothing else. “Come up into bed with me,” he urges, scooting over to make room. “I called you up here for this, but—there are other things. We need to talk.”

 

“Do I have to avoid the bump?” Kaoru asks, edging carefully into the bed, ignoring the seedlings. That part, he’s used to. “Talk. I’ll listen until you want opinions.”

 

“The illusion hides it, pretend it’s not even there,” Rei says, plastering himself into Kaoru to prove the point of its ‘absence.’ He drapes his arms around Kaoru’s shoulders, briefly stuffing his face into Kaoru’s shoulder to breathe in his scent, tinged with sweat and horse, and relaxes—at least, somewhat. A vine slithers over, flopping over into Kaoru’s hair, and when Rei exhales, a slow, shimmering veil falls over the tent, silencing their words to the outside. “He closed the Sorrow’s Gate this morning. I didn’t even wake up.”

 

Kaoru lets out a low whistle. “He…I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but he hasn’t had that kind of power in…a long time.”

 

Rei winces at that. “Correct. It wasn’t just Wataru he fed on. I…well, I didn’t intend for it to happen, but he’s charming in that awful way of his, you know?”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s horrible, isn’t it?” Kaoru rakes a hand back through his hair. “I mean, it’s not like I’m sad that the Gate is closed. I can’t deal with those things being alive.”

 

“I’m glad it’s closed, but…that’s not what I’m concerned about. It’s the fact that it was _so_ easy for him.” Rei hesitates, then curls his fingers into the back of Kaoru’s shirt. “Going up North with him, with another archdemon, with a _third_ archdemon and his drude waiting…that’s terrifying, even for me. He can talk to the gates, Kaoru. Feeding him again and expecting him not to turn on us up North—can I really count on that? I don’t like the odds.”

 

“So don’t feed him?” Kaoru suggests. “I know, you said that feels terrible, but if it’s that or sabotaging us…well, hold on, why would he turn on us? Isn’t he working with us on his own recognizance? I mean, isn’t he doing it because he wants to?”

 

“He’s doing it because _Leo_ wants him to,” Rei says with a sigh. “The archdemons that opened up these gates in the first place did so to help him come back up here. They’re his friends, at the very least.”

 

“Do we have any idea what they want?”

 

“…This. To be here. To eat. The same thing all archdemons want.”

 

Kaoru nods slowly, letting that sink in. “I mean, yeah, that’s about as bad as it gets. Ideas? Chances that we can get Eichi on our side against them?”

 

“I’ve lost the king as a proper hostage,” Rei unhappily says. “So that leverage is gone. I knew I never should’ve dropped that thrall on him.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, the mean paladin was so cruel to you that you were forced to be an absolute idiot and do something good,” Kaoru says tiredly, waving a hand. “It can be my fault, I’m not going to apologize for hating the thrall.”

 

“No, I mean…” Rei exhales, and buries his face into Kaoru’s neck. “I made a pact last night. Even if I wanted to thrall Leo again, I can’t. I can’t get any magic worked up on him, if I want it to be truly effective; Eichi made me swear to never sleep with him again.”

 

Kaoru snorts. “Why’d you swear to something like that? It doesn’t sound like something you’d do.”

 

“…I made him swear to not harass Shu deliberately anymore. It seemed worth it at the time!” Rei insists. “I didn’t realize how much he’d fed—how strong he really _was_. He hasn’t fed like that since…since…I don’t know.”

 

“I mean…” Kaoru shrugs. “It’s not like Leo can’t still be leverage. Sorry to be like that, I like the kid, but he’s just a breakable human, right? You don’t have to fuck him to hold him against Eichi. Even Eichi just knowing that you’d take it out on him if you lived should be enough to give him second thoughts about going after you.”

 

“I know. And I’ve thought about that,” Rei admits, glancing up to catch Kaoru’s gaze. “But—well, here’s the issue that has me concerned. We’re here in the West now. The gate here is closed. Great. That being said, it drained him entirely to close it so neatly. He already came in here this morning, asking to feed again. I turned him away for now, but…if we head North without him fed…that’s an issue. If we head North with him fully fed and ready to close it, that’s also an issue. It makes me nervous, knowing how strong he is when he’s eaten his fill.”

 

“I mean, those are kind of the only options, right?” Kaoru asks, frowning. “Feed him, or don’t. Shit, this is bad, you say there are two more archdemons up there? And we don’t know anything about them? Uuugh, don’t tell me I have to call my family…”

 

“An archdemon and his pet drude,” Rei wearily says. “The other one is here still, Hiyori, and he’s currently controllable, but…he’s starving. The archdemon up North, I have no idea about, other than he decided it was prudent to slaughter the North. I know those are the only two options, but…ugh. Help me think this through. I _don’t_ want your family involved.”

 

“Me neither,” Kaoru says heartily. “Okay. Okay. Options. Three for Eichi. He’s either working for us, working against us, or working for himself and just waiting to see what everyone else does before he declares he’s been doing what the winners want him to the whole time.”

 

“…Likely the last one,” Rei hedges. “He’s usually an opportunist. Ultimately, I think all he cares about right now is Leo. He wouldn’t close gates that brought him back to this world if Leo didn’t want him to.”

 

“So he’s doing it because Leo wants him to. How far does that go? Would he fight his own people for Leo?”

 

“Archdemons _do_ seem to be fiercely protective of their mates. He did cut his own bond so Leo could live—so, I’ll say yes, most likely. But that’s going to cause problems if he is betraying his own people, especially if they’ve worked hard to bring him back here. Which…sounds fine, in theory. Let them all fight to the death, whatever. Except if Eichi loses because he’s too weak from not being fed properly, then we have different, _other_ archdemons that we don’t know about…and if he wins, and turns on us because that was his plan all along—what then, if he’s well-fed?”

 

“Then you still have Leo,” Kaoru says softly. “I know that’s not where you want this to go, but…you do.”

 

“I do,” Rei agrees, looking decidedly unhappy. “But…I really don’t like that. And I don’t know how cooperative Leo will be, if Eichi _does_ turn on us. Will he side with Eichi? Us? He’s so attached, Kaoru. More than he was before.”

 

“You don’t know that Eichi is going to turn on us,” Kaoru reminds him. “You don’t. You can’t. Because we might get up there, and the archdemon will turn on Eichi, and he’ll be on our side, and it’s not worth worrying about.”

 

“I wasn’t worried until I saw how strong he was—Kaoru, closing that gate nearly killed Shu, and it was _smaller_ in High Harbor. Eichi did this much larger one without even waking me. I don’t think he knew how strong he’d be, either.” Rei huffs out a stressed breath. “And the more I think about it…he’s just being too agreeable. After going out of his way to harass Shu, to harass Natsume, to antagonize me, it’s unlikely he’s just…on our side with no strings attached.”

 

“So, we go with him,” Kaoru says, trying to ignore the way the idea of multiple archdemons arrayed against them makes his teeth chatter a little. “So the king will have some backup. He’ll have you, me, Sena, Wataru…heh, who else is coming? It sounds like a circus. If Shu and Kanata were here, I’d think we were re-enacting The King Takes the Land.”

 

Rei pauses at that. “Wait. That’s an old paladin nursery rhyme. Or am I mistaken?”

 

Kaoru laughs. “Yeah, did they never tell it to little Cambions in Cambion Nursery School?”

 

“Contrary to popular belief,” Rei drawls, gently tugging at the laces of Kaoru’s shirt, “the world does not revolve around paladins.”

 

Kaoru rolls his eyes, but it’s hard to really be annoyed when Rei is so cute. “I don’t remember the whole rhyme, it’s just how we learn the story about the king and the Land-Taking ceremony. You know. Or—no, I guess you wouldn’t.” He frowns. “Come to think of it, I haven’t heard anyone talk about it in a long time. Maybe the paladins finally wiped it out like they kept saying they were going to.”

 

“More explanation needed. If this is a paladin ritual, I know nothing. I’ve deliberately kept myself uneducated about your kind to seem less threatening because they’re so mean to me.”

 

“It’s not mean! it’s just…diametrically opposed?” Kaoru shrugs. “Six of one. Anyway, the Land-Taking is when the different races all swear fealty to the king and sacrifice to him, it’s supposed to keep a good king alive and safe. In the stories, they’d do it whenever there was a rebellion or a civil war, because kings kept dying so fast.”

 

“‘Keep him alive and safe’…to what degree, exactly? Wrap him in a shielding magic safe? Lock him in a box safe? Bloodpact bound to protect safe?” Rei pauses. “They’re definitely mean, by the way. They’re nice to Eichi and mean to me, it’s racism. Just because I look like a demon—“

 

“Safe like invincible,” Kaoru interrupts, before Rei can keep going about how cruel his family is, because he agrees in any case and honestly does not care. “Safe like no physical or mental attack can affect him. Safe like—well, that’s the sacrifice. Skin like an ogre, eternal youth of a nymph, can’t be drowned like a Wavebred, can’t be spelled like an Airbred, immune to fire or purification like a Skybred, you get it. It hasn’t happened since, oh, the Century of Cavalry, at least. The paladins tried to get rid of it, because, well. They were making that play to bend the kings to their causes, and it was harder when they didn’t need protection. Plus, you know, Airbred and Skybred basically disappeared, Wavebred went back to the ocean, Greenbred vanished like they do, etcetera. There probably haven’t been so many races together in one place until now, I guess.”

 

Rei sucks in a slow, measured breath, even though he starts being able to _hear_ his pulse. “Mm. So. Last night, Eichi fed on me. Physically, not just magically.”

 

Kaoru frowns. “Yeah. So?”

 

“So I’m guessing, like most rituals, this one requires some kind of blood sacrifice.” 

 

“Yeaaahhh…but…” Kaoru scratches his head, thinking. “I mean, it takes willing blood from all the races. Even if he had yours—and mine, he bit me in High Harbor—he’d still need a lot more, and not all of them are here.”

 

Rei starts making a tally on Kaoru’s chest with each stroke of a finger. “Greenbred,” he starts with. “Me. He bit me last night, done. The paladin to start it all, you, done. Wavebred…” He pauses, thinking. “Kanata. He threw himself on the Sorrow’s Gate in High Harbor to try and close it, when it opened. Done. So that leaves Skybred, Shadowbred, Icebred, Airbred…”

 

Kaoru growls quietly, the idea of someone using Kanata’s brave, selfless act against him making him furious. “He can’t have Airbred, though. Shu would never. And I haven’t seen any others around in decades.”

 

“Other than Wataru, but—they can’t be purebreds, I’m guessing. Paladins never like purebreds.” Rei worries at his lower lip. “Before he came back fully, Eichi possessed the Master of Coin and went after Shu. I don’t know how Shu banished him from that body. It could’ve been with a blood seal, and if it was…”

 

“Well…shit,” Kaoru mutters, feeling himself start to sweat a little. “No, no, we’re overthinking this, there’s no way he can have them all. Shadowbred—how many people do you know that are citizens of this country and from the Shadows? That little necromancer, but I doubt he’d bleed for Eichi. And it can’t be you, if you’re the Greenbred.”

 

“No, Mika would never bleed willingly for him, and he can’t cast correct magic that requires blood casting, so it wouldn’t be anything like that,” Rei says, though that doesn’t alleviate his fretting. “The previous Captain of the Kingsguard…Kuro. He’s half-Ogre. And he and Eichi are on good terms. Even if they weren’t, he and the Master of Coin are involved.”

 

“Fuck.” Kaoru looks down at the tally, and his stomach turns over. “Skybred. They’re safe, at least. They’re in the Isles, they’re not even citizens.”

 

“Natsume. He’s islander, straight from Redwater.”

 

“Rei! What the fuck! Why did you bring him here?” Kaoru rubs a hand over his face. “Fuck. Fuck. And he’s always doing those blood rituals, Eichi could have stolen a bit. Fuck, is that everyone? No, Icebred.”

 

“Natsume was already in the West working, and I didn’t know about any of this!” Rei protests, slinking back. “Icebred is easy,” he miserably adds. “Izumi. But even if it isn’t Izumi—anyone up North. One of his archdemon friends could’ve collected the blood from a Northerner that threw themselves onto their blades.”

 

Kaoru stares at Rei, utterly beyond words. “He’s already done it, then,” he says tonelessly. “He has to have. There’s no other reason for some of his behavior.”

 

“We’re going to die, aren’t we.” Rei groans, flopping over onto his back and throwing an arm over his face. “Fuck. I’m so stupid. Why else would he _specifically_ not want me to fuck Leo? No casting, no magic, no sensing anything is _strange._ He’s not overprotective of his mate, he’s just making sure Leo isn’t a weakness.”

 

“Leo would know, though,” Kaoru says, a little desperately. “He’d have to eat the earth mixed with all the blood. No way that happens without him noticing.”

 

“Just picture it,” Rei helplessly says. “‘Here, Leo, eat this. Huh, what is it? Tastes like dirt! That’s because it is, haha. Forget it, let’s make out.’”

 

Kaoru stares at him for a long minute, then slumps over. “We’re all going to die, aren’t we?”

 

~


	28. Chapter 28

 

Izumi is fairly certain that they were passed by someone that looked suspiciously like a blond paladin on the road, but that’s more unnerving than reassuring. Kaoru, of all people, to be in a hurry is…unusual, to say the least.

 

It’s why when they do reach the West encampment, it’s startling to see how _calm_ it all is. Specifically, the neighboring town seems to be full of more off-duty soldiers than actual townspeople, and it’s a cluster enough on the streets that he and Arashi have to leave their horses at a nearby inn in their attempts to make their way through town.

 

Staying behind was never an option, not when _Leo_ is concerned, and when _Leo_ is heading anywhere near those gates. So, here he is, stressed and tired and uneasy, for one reason or another.

 

Being pregnant does _not_ make it easier.

 

“You’re taller,” he wearily reminds Arashi, lingering just a step behind him and holding onto the back of his cloak. “Tell me if you see a stupid redhead. Why is the West always either empty or _so_ crowded?”

 

“Um, because a few hundred Northerners are here to eat me out of house and home?” Arashi suggests pleasantly, turning back to bat his eyelashes. “Honestly, make sure you go and see your men while you’re here. They’d do anything for you, but from what I hear, they miss their homes and wives. Ugh, honestly, my manners after so long away are starting to…here, stay close.”

 

Arashi adjusts his stance, any hint of femininity disappearing from his bearing, and squares his jaw, eyes narrowed. The next time someone tries to shove him aside, he simply growls, “Watch it, jackass.”

 

Unlike with the last twenty people that bumped into him, this one scoots nervously to the side, lowering his eyes and mumbling an apology.

 

“How often should I tell you that I sort of like when you act like that if I want you to do it more often?” Izumi asks, latching more tightly to Arashi before his gaze flicks sideways, catching sight of the scurrying human’s face and hair underneath his cloak. “Ah—“

 

Briefly seeing Leo in High Harbor hadn’t been enough. Seeing him here now makes Izumi’s heart thud fast in his chest, and he immediately swings out an arm, grabbing Leo’s wrist before he can get lost in the crowds again. “Oi, you idiot, where do you think you’re going?”

 

Leo’s face tenses, then lights up, and he throws his arms around Izumi’s neck, holding him desperately close. “Izumi! Aaahhh!! Oh, you’re so big, you’re so pretty, you smell so good, I missed you so much, hold me, all right?”

 

“Not right here!” Izumi protests, still keeping a firm hold onto Arashi with one hand even as his other tries to circle around Leo to keep him close. “What do you mean, _big?_ Are you seriously calling me fat?”

 

“Is someone bothering you, Leo?”

 

It’s a casual question, but when backed by a very easy, pleasant baritone, it’s difficult for it not to be perceived as threatening. Izumi’s grip falters somewhat as he looks up, _up_ , and comes eye to eye with the previous Emperor himself, tall and pale and unfortunately, terribly handsome.

 

“Ah,” Eichi says, with some pause. “I see. By the way, Leo, eat this,” he adds, putting a bowl underneath Leo’s nose without taking his eyes off of Izumi. “It’s a Western delicacy, or something.”

 

Leo does as he’s told almost automatically, picking up the wet mass in the bowl and putting it in his mouth, then makes a face, as if he’s about to spit. “Bleh. It tastes like dirt, and blood!”

 

“Hmmm. Probably because it is,” Eichi cheerfully says, slinging an arm about Leo’s shoulders. “Weird, right? Don’t spit it out, that would be disrespectful to their culture. Oh, my descendant is here, too. Hello.” Even when greeting Arashi, his eyes remain trained on Izumi, and it takes effort for him not to lick his lips.

 

Arashi’s teeth flash in greeting. “Hi. If you’re going to rip half my skull off this time, I won’t be nice. What are you feeding him? We don’t eat mud in the West.”

 

“You know,” Leo says thoughtfully, chewing and swallowing, “it’s really not that bad. Other cultures are so wise.”

 

“I’m just repeating what a little old lady told me,” Eichi brightly says, his fingers squeezing Leo’s shoulder. “She was handing out samples near that prophet friend of yours—I didn’t realize he told fortunes. Wouldn’t tell mine, of course, but that’s to be expected. Anyway, I won’t rip half of your skull off. I’m more interested in your pet snake there.”

 

“I’m not a pet snake,” Izumi says uneasily, not entirely certain how to feel about the way Eichi is looking at him like he wants to actually, _physically_ consume him.

 

“Of course you aren’t.” Eichi’s stare is officially fixated, unmoving and sharp. “But we should all convene elsewhere, somewhere…less crowded, I think?”

 

“Oooi.” Leo’s elbow is sharp into Eichi’s ribs. “Watch the fangs. Don’t eat my wife.”

 

“Wife,” Arashi repeats, sighing a little at the romance of it. “Do you have quarters here? If not, I can get us a room anywhere. Technically, this is still all mine.”

 

“Just a borrowed tent,” Eichi says, not even swaying with the nudge to his side. “I won’t say no to a room.”

 

Instinctively, Izumi inches a bit more behind Arashi.

 

Arashi stares at Eichi for a hard moment, then turns and stalks off, hand firm on Izumi’s arm. “I don’t want you to be alone with him,” he hisses, not caring whether Eichi can hear him or not. “Maybe he’s got the king’s ear, but I don’t trust him. Maybe I’m biased because of the skull-ripping thing.”

 

“I don’t want to be alone with him,” Izumi hisses back, latching himself firmly to Arashi’s arm as he spares a worried glance back towards Leo. “He looks like he wants to eat me! And Leo smells _weird_ , something’s not right.”

 

“Ah, not so fast,” Eichi whines, and turns, tugging on Leo’s arm. “Le~o, I’m hungry, please? She smells s~o good, like a big dessert, and I was so good, wasn’t I so good?”

 

“You have food waiting for you,” Leo growls possessively, trotting to keep up with everyone whose legs are longer than his, which sometimes feels like is the whole world. “Rei and Wataru, remember? Izumi is mine, and he’s a he, no matter what shape he’s wearing. Don’t forget it!”

 

“But I’m hungry _now_ ,” Eichi complains. “And Rei’s paladin is around, I can smell him, so who knows if I’ll get to eat again soon? Just a nibble. That’s all.”

 

Leo’s eyes flash. “I said, no,” he growls, his words edged. “My child is in there. Your future king is in there. No asking permission, you’re too pretty and he likes men too much.”

 

Eichi’s lips purse unhappily, and he’s still unable to stop staring at Izumi’s back, the swiftly growing, _aching_ hunger making him run his tongue over his teeth. “That sounds _fun_ , though. It’s not like I’d hurt your child.”

 

“My Izumi. Mine.” Leo feels himself about to start hissing, and deliberately walks ahead of Eichi. “Don’t make me send you back to the tent, Dog of the King.”

 

Eichi growls low in his throat, and it’s harder than he would like to bite his tongue. “Maybe you should send me back,” he crossly mutters. “Instead of dangling food underneath my nose like this. You don’t understand, you can’t. You said before I could talk to him, didn’t you? Maybe he’d _want_ me to.”

 

“I’m not dangling anything!” Leo snaps. “I was just talking to him, you’re the one who showed up. I’ll only send you back if I think you can’t control yourself. You’re just being a brat, because you don’t want to.”

 

“I didn’t just _show up_. Do you really think I let you wander around without keeping an eye on you? In a place like _this?_ ”

 

Eichi finally manages to rip his eyes from Izumi, though it takes considerable effort, and his hands start to shake again before he curls them into loose fists. “You have _no idea_ how good he smells.”

 

Maybe it’s the way Eichi’s voice wavers, or maybe it’s the fact that Leo can feel that desire radiating along their bond, sort of, but he takes a deep breath, trying not to just keep reacting. “He’s so, so important to me,” he says softly, and takes one of Eichi’s fists in his two hands, squeezing. “He’s more important to me than my own life. I’d do anything for him. I love him. You get that, right?”

 

“I’m not going to hurt him,” Eichi mutters, hands starting to tremble again. “I told you I wouldn’t. He’s yours, I’m hearing you. Just a bite, that’s all, why can’t I even ask him?”

 

Leo exhales very slowly, then nods. “Okay. You can ask him. I know you wouldn’t ask if you were feeling good. Or at least, you’d be less…you know. Stupid about it.”

 

“That’s mean. You’re being so mean to me. I did really cool things and you’re _abusing_ me.”

 

“Hey.” Leo folds his arms. “Quit blaming me for you being hungry. I’m proud of you, but that doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want. You’re still my dog, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m so hungry,” Eichi complains, trying not to whine, and only succeeding…sort of. “You couldn’t possibly understand. And it’s not like I’m going to be mean, I know he’s yours, I _know_ , you’ve told me…”

 

Leo squeezes Eichi’s hand, and tugs him after Arashi and Izumi, to the lodging-house they’re being led to. “I know. You’re good. And I wouldn’t try to get between you and Wataru, and the weird shit you have going on there. I’m happy for you! Even if it makes my ears ring when you screw. So like I said, you can talk to him, but it’s up to him.”

 

“…Did your ears really ring when we did it? What did it sound like? Could you hear us doing it?” He might be a little too curious because it sounds suspiciously like telepathy.

 

Izumi spares a glance back to them again, still wary, but still unable to completely turn away from the idea of being…well, tolerant, at least. Eichi makes him nervous, but more nervewracking is the idea of losing Leo in any way, shape, or form. “Can you take Eichi up to the room by yourself, just for a moment?” he lowly asks Arashi, tugging on his arm. “I want a chance to speak to Leo, alone.”

 

The look Arashi shoots at Izumi is almost panicked, but only for a heartbeat. Then he sucks in a low breath, and nods. “Hey, Eichi,” he says, hoping he sounds as casual as he doesn’t feel. “Come up with me, we’ll get settled.”

 

“Go,” Leo urges, and turns immediately to Izumi, trying not to just physically meld himself to that familiar (if currently sweetly rounded) body.

 

There’s a weighted pause where Eichi considers this, clearly not wanting to pull himself away from Leo more than necessary, but then he relents, albeit begrudgingly. “Please tell me there’s a very _comfortable_ bed,” he sighs, letting himself be led away. “I’m exhausted, and Rei is terrible to sleep with unless it’s a bed fit for _two_ kings…”

 

Izumi waits, watching to see that Eichi is truly behaving himself and acting docile before relaxing enough to look towards Leo. “You feel strange,” he lowly says, reaching out to take one of Leo’s hands. “Did he do anything to you? Magically? I don’t see anything, but I don’t know…”

 

Leo flushes, but doesn’t look away, squeezing Izumi’s hands. “I think we did a lot of things to each other,” he says frankly, “but nothing that hurts. You look so beautiful, it makes me want to build a statue to you in the middle of the palace and only accept petitions from people who worship it first.”

 

“Five minutes ago, you told me I was huge,” Izumi huffs, his own cheeks coloring in spite of himself. “And I _feel_ huge. I hate every bit of this, just so you know. I’m hideous and I’m stressed out about _you_. You’re sure you’re fine? And when he says he ‘wants to eat me’, what exactly…”

 

“I don’t really understand how he feeds,” Leo admits, hands automatically going to Izumi’s waist, holding him gently, marveling at the sweet curve of him, “but he said you have a kind of energy that’s really gorgeous to him, and he says it feels like you’ll replenish it as fast as he drains it. But he also promised it wouldn’t hurt the baby—and I made him promise that if you said no, he’d listen.”

 

“…is this a sex wizard thing?” Izumi warily asks, brow furrowing. The strangest thing about Leo having his hands on him is no one even looks twice, even in the West, and he has to remind himself _you’re in a female body, that’s why._ “Or rather, is this just…a sex thing, in general?”

 

“I don’t think so?” Leo shrugs, shifting to the side as if to protect Izumi even from being looked at by anyone he doesn’t approve of. “He said he used to feed off of Wataru before they even held hands, for decades.”

 

“Not to be like this, but he doesn’t look at me like he wants to hold my hand.”

 

“Eh, you see the way he looks at Wataru, I thought they were in love.”

 

“…I’m pretty sure they are?” Izumi exhales, briefly shutting his eyes. “I guess what I’m asking is should I be, uh, worried? If he tries to fuck me? Will he? I don’t know him that well, you know.”

 

Leo frowns. “I mean…no? Honestly?” He shrugs, looking a little anxious, fiddling with the end of his ponytail. “You don’t have to have sex with him, you know. But if you want to, I don’t mind. I’d totally want to be part of it, but only if you want me to. He’s good at it, if that’s what you’re worried about—ahhh, this is weird! I’m not trying to set you two up, I swear, it just sounds like it!”

 

Izumi hesitates for a moment longer, then just heaves a sigh, raking his hands back through his hair and throughly mussing it in the process. “If he’s going to be here, and going to be a part of your life, I figured being closer to him is the best way to go about it, and—well—shit, Leo. He’s so _tall._ ”

 

Leo looks around, but no one is looking at him, so he just tugs gently at Izumi’s hand, not trying to lead him anywhere, just to express his intention. “Izumi. You’d…I mean…it’s so big.”

 

“So—“ Izumi pauses, mulling that over, and he leans in, stare intent. “So like…proportional? Because he’s so tall. And with the shoulders. You know? I mean, obviously you know, but—it’s different. Like Rei is really tall, but he’s like a willow tree, Eichi looks like…” He flutters a hand, words escaping him.

 

“It’s as big as Rei’s,” Leo assures him seriously. “Oh, wait, you’ve never slept with Rei, have you? Uh, it’s as big as…um…I don’t know. It’s real big. Thick and long. And he’ll give it to you, he’s real generous about it. And I’m real generous, because I’ll share. With you. Because I love you.”

 

“Now I’m horny,” Izumi hisses underneath his breath, giving Leo a little shake by his arms. “How am I supposed to walk in there and be normal and calm? I’m so horny all the time when I’m like this, and _you_ haven’t been around—there are not that many people I know that want to fuck women, turns out.”

 

Leo leans in, nuzzling into Izumi’s neck. “I’m here to take care of you now,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to Izumi’s neck. “And it might not be a sex thing, but I bet you’ll want it to be one, when you talk to him. I bet you’ll like him. I know he’s done a lot of bad things, but he’s not all bad, or I wouldn’t want to be with him, you know? Bond or no bond.”

 

That answers several questions that lingered on Izumi’s tongue, but he doesn’t say that. Instead, he just leans forward, letting his head thunk down onto Leo’s shoulder. “I trust your judgement,” he finally, quietly says. “But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t make me nervous. If I think he’s doing something really weird, just…listen to me, okay? And hear me out. I can sense the magic things you can’t, even if you think he’s being a good dog or whatever.”

 

Leo nods immediately. “I trust you more than I trust him,” he says, without reservation or hesitation. “And I always will. I’m in love with you, I’ve loved you since we weren’t old enough to be shaved. If you think he’s working an angle, tell me.”

 

“I will.” Izumi heaves another sigh, and rocks back, shaking himself off visibly. “But I guess I better get to know him so I can really judge him, huh? And, uh, you’re sure he likes women?”

 

“Uh, yeah,” Leo says, unable to repress a grin. “I thought he was going to start chewing off his own hand when you walked by.”

 

“Not gonna lie, that sounds really, really good right now,” Izumi grouses. “I mean, Kaoru is good and all, but expected, and…well, that’s about it. Arashi sucks, and Mika’s weird.” No one gets to know about Chiaki, still.

 

Leo laughs, and starts tugging him up the stairs. “I always imagine that Izumi’s having sex with everyone,” he says cheerfully. “But you’re barely having more than me. Kaoru’s good, isn’t he?”

 

“I’m starved, positively starved,” Izumi complains, letting Leo pull him along, following contently at Leo’s heels. “Kaoru…is very good. He’s relaxing, somehow. After living in Rei’s estate in the Shadowlands, then Kaoru’s in High Harbor…I can see why they’re married.”

 

“And he’s really good with his tongue,” Leo says seriously. “He’s had a lot of practice, definitely. How long were you there, anyway?”

 

“In the Shadowlands? Ah…” Izumi hesitates, thinking and trying to calculate the difference in time. “I think…it was at least five months? In Shadowland time.”

 

Leo’s face falls, and he frowns, instinctively drawing closer. “But I didn’t know I was supposed to miss you.”

 

Izumi blinks, then flushes, looking away and up the stairs. “You’re being dumb,” he mutters self-consciously. “It was barely any time for you. So it’s fine, I promise.”

 

“Eh? It’s fine? So Izumi didn’t miss me at all? Wow.”

 

“I didn’t say that! I’m just saying—you didn’t have the time to miss _me!”_

 

“That’s so stupid! I miss you even when I close my eyes! You’re the worst!”

 

“ _You’re_ the worst! It’s not my fault I have to run around doing this kind of stuff, you’re the king, you have to stay put and just be there when I get back!”

 

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, Izumi sucks in a slow breath, suddenly and abruptly able to _feel_ Eichi’s magic seeping underneath the nearby doorway. “See, that,” he mutters distractedly. “That right there. He’s really pushy, even just by existing. Can you feel that, with your bond?”

 

“Um…not sure,” Leo admits. “What does it feel like? I mean, with my bond, I can tell you where he is, if we’re this close. He’s in there.” He points to the correct door, but the pointing finger wavers slightly, as if uncertain.

 

“I mean…yeah, he’s there, but his magic is so…” Izumi chews on his lower lip. “Even though he’s supposedly weak right now, it’s…a lot.”

 

“Uh, you know I don’t know anything about magic, right?” Leo grimaces. “Don’t forget I’m just a pure human, I’m squishy and weak and can’t blow anything up from a long way away.”

 

“…Are you squishy now?” Izumi leans over, idly pinching Leo’s hip. “Huh. You kind of are.”

 

Leo squeaks, and slaps at Izumi’s hand. “Wow! Super rude! I can’t believe the Shadowlands made you rude…”

 

“You’re the one that got squishy. Do I have to serve a weak, squishy king now?”

 

The bedroom door swings open without a single touch, and beyond it, Eichi leans forward to catch Leo’s eye. “You two should stop taking your time and leaving me all alone with this brute,” he complains. “He doesn’t even use a proper sword, did you know?”

 

“I do use a proper sword!” Arashi protests, looking rather harried, expression tightly controlled. “It’s fashionable to use a short, slender sword! I could absolutely swing one of those big ones—with as much precision as you can, by the way!”

 

Eichi looks skeptical. “Is it fashionable, or are you just concerned with the way you look?” he mildly asks, unfazed by Arashi’s blustering. “Because a proper sword is much more efficient than one of…you know. Those.”

 

“You encourage this sort of behavior, don’t you,” Izumi wearily asks Leo, folding his arms across his chest.

 

“I’m wondering…” Arashi muses speculatively, “if you only hold a big sword to make your big fat hands look pretty and slender.”

 

Leo scrambles up onto the bed, feeling an odd thrumming in his chest when he sees Eichi so much as talking to someone else, reaching a hand out to tug on his sleeve. “Closer,” he says softly, feeling his cheeks flush.

 

Eichi’s quip dies on his tongue, and he slides an arm around immediately around Leo’s waist, dragging him closer in one fell swoop. That seems to take care of that immediate, incessant need for contact, which feels far more like relief than it should. “…Anyway,” he says, then huffs, looking vaguely annoyed. “Whatever, I lost my train of thought. Leo, why am I being forced to be around tasty things that I can’t eat?”

 

“Do you really only think about food?” Izumi can’t help but ask, briefly glancing Arashi over just to make sure Eichi didn’t do anything strange to him in his absence. It’s better to do that than analyze the way that Eichi’s fingers curl into Leo’s hip.

 

“Eh. More or less. My great-great-or-something-another-grandson here also smells nice.” Eichi’s eyes lid, and his fingers drum slowly against Leo’s side, eyes slitted as he watches Arashi move. “Maybe you should let me take a bite. I’ll be nicer this time.”

 

“Nicer than the time you ripped half of my skull off?” Arashi asks mildly, leaning back against the wall, hands twitching towards his belt, as if he’s about to draw that apparently undersized sword of his. “Do you hit on all your grandchildren?”

 

“I didn’t say,” Leo says slowly, eyes lidded as they flick up to meet Eichi’s, “that you couldn’t eat anything here.”

 

“If I eat you right now, you’re going to be hurt,” Eichi mutters, giving Leo’s waist another squeeze. The hold is tighter, as if he’s actively resisting just _doing it already_ , no matter how much he reiterates that it’s a bad idea. “And to answer your question—demon heritage isn’t like human heritage. You have my blood, but you’re not exactly…the same.”

 

As quick as a snake, he reaches out, grabbing Izumi’s wrist and dragging him close. “I want to eat you,” Eichi casually says. “You should let me.”

 

Izumi falters, flustered and unable to hide it when Eichi is suddenly so close, and touching him, on top of that. “I—um—“

 

Leo’s breath quickens, and his eyes dilate almost at the exact same split-second as Eichi’s, as if he too is grabbing at Izumi, even if he’s only experiencing it through the bond. “Izumi,” he breathes, reaching up a hand, running a finger down the back of Izumi’s cool one. “You smell so good. You always do, you know that? It’s just…more, lately.”

 

Unbidden, Izumi’s tongue flicks out to wet his lower lip, his mouth parting as he struggles for a proper response. It’s one thing to discuss this privately with Leo; it’s another thing when Eichi is right there, looming over him even when seated, and his grip is so _tight_ around his wrist, obviously uninterested in letting him go. “When you say it like that,” he begins, his voice nervous, breathless, and more than a little aroused, “it’s—it’s like you’ve been planning this, you know.”

 

“What, you think we haven’t talked about you?” Eichi says with a laugh, his eyes lidded as he looks over Izumi’s shoulder to Arashi, raising an eyebrow as if to say _you can be part of this, too._ “The current state you’re in…mmm. You’re really perfect, aren’t you? Isn’t he, Leo?”

 

“He’s perfect.” Leo’s voice comes out a little wobbly, but his eyes are shining, clearing as they meet Izumi’s. “He’s always perfect. And if I were a demon, I wouldn’t want to eat anything else.”

 

“Izumi,” Arashi says, brows slightly furrowed, even as his cheekbones flush slightly pink, “do you…want me to go?”

 

Hearing Arashi’s voice jerks Izumi out of the veritable thrall Eichi has him under—is that a thing? can he be thralled that easily? is that how it works? suddenly, Izumi wishes he’d paid more attention when learning about things that were not supposed to be done at the Academy—and he hesitates, looking back to Arashi, his eyes pleading. “If you stay, that would be…good,” he manages. “I know you don’t like this body very much, but even if you’re just here…”

 

Arashi immediately shifts closer, reaching out to squeeze Izumi’s shoulder. “I don’t have to want to fuck you to want to be your support, you ass,” he says, feeling the hair prickle up the sides of his arms and neck, warning that there’s danger all around, and it’s smiling at him from the trees.

 

“Mm, Eichi,” Leo says, a little dreamily, “you can’t get him double pregnant, can you? That would be…inconvenient…”

 

“I certainly want to try,” Eichi cheerfully says, his eyes bright under the heavy fall of his lashes as he reaches up to automatically grab a handful each of Izumi’s breasts, giving them a squeeze that makes Izumi squeak and flutter. “Ah, cute.”

 

“D-d-don’t just grab someone like that, they’re sensitive, you know!” Izumi snaps, though the way his face is flushed red says something entirely different. He scoots back all the same, huddled back up into Arashi’s side, glowering at them. “You grab too hard,” he complains to Eichi. “Maybe Leo likes that, but I don’t.”

 

“Yeah, he does,” Leo murmurs, stepping around to slide his hands forward around Izumi’s waist, hands splaying on his rounded belly. He bends his head, brushing his lips across Izumi’s neck, breathing against the shell of one ear. “Don’t forget that you’re touching a man. He only looks like a pretty lady. But be gentle to my lady and my baby anyway, yeah?”

 

Izumi’s breath hiccups, and he slowly, visibly relaxes, melting into Leo’s familiar touch. “I’ve been working _really_ hard,” he complains, reaching up to push his hair aside, exposing more of his neck to encourage Leo’s mouth to do more of the same. “I deserve to have someone be nice to me. And being pregnant is _hard_.”

 

“Yes, yes, so you say,” Eichi sighs, his eyes still hyper-focused when he reaches for Izumi again, grabbing for one of his hands this time. “I do think I’m quite good at touching ladies as well, or so I’ve been told.”

 

It’s difficult not to believe that when Eichi looks like he does, smells nice, has soft, careful hands when he actually tries to. Izumi wavers, but only for a moment more, sparing a last, wary look back to Arashi before he lets Eichi pull him closer again.

 

Which lasts for a moment, but only that long.

 

The bedroom door slams open, presenting a very harried Natsume, only partially laced into his usually polished getup, and with his hair, normally properly perfectly pinned, in a thorough state of half-braided disarray. “Sena,” he snaps, “I need you. Right now. It’s—“

 

The second Izumi’s attention turns to Natsume instead, Eichi snarls, teeth bared, grip vice-tight around Izumi’s wrist as he yanks him close. Natsume hesitates for a moment at best before the bright, sharp snap of his magic criss-crosses in the air, more or less slaps Eichi across the face, and knocks him directly to the floor, pinning him there as he snarls and hisses like something decidedly inhuman. “Train your dog, if you’re going to keep him,” he growls to Leo, chest heaving as his hand remains outstretched, fingertips glowing green.

 

Leo’s eyes are as wide as coins, darting between Eichi and Natsume. “What did you do to him?” he snarls, leaping up and grabbing Natsume by the bodice of his dress. “Who do you think you are to be laying hands on what’s _mine?_ I’m your king, you little shit!”

 

“It’s just a binding spell, it won’t hurt him unless he tries to break free!” Natsume snaps right back, shoving Leo back with a huff of effort. “He would’ve taken a bite out of me and Sena if I hadn’t stopped him!”

 

“It’s fine, it’s _fine_ ,” Izumi swiftly interrupts, thankful that the wrist Eichi’s suddenly present talons had torn into already has decided to heal. “He’s not going to do anything—“

 

“You’re just saying that because you want to feed, too,” Natsume snarls, whirling on Izumi. “Now’s not the time. I _need_ you, you’re the only healer around and I’m _not_ working on Lord Rei without you.”

 

Eichi sputters out a laugh from where he lies on the floor, which quickly turns to a wheezing cough in spite of his continued giggling. “Fuck—of all the things, of course that’s it. Fuck it, let him die, I’m _hungry_.”

 

“See?” Natsume growls, glaring at Leo. “That’s the kind of person he is.”

 

Leo’s eyes flash, and he lurches forward, only to find himself suddenly blocked by the broad shoulders of Arashi, the only one in the room who looks calm and even-tempered. He catches Natsume’s wrist, his sword appearing in his hand as if spirited there. “Hi,” he says, with little of his usual cheer. “I don’t really care what you want to do to the demon, but if you ever lay a hand on the king again, as Captain of the Kingsguard, I _will_ remove it from your wrist, Nightcloak or no Nightcloak.”

 

Visibly ruffled, Leo sidles up to Izumi, hair askew. “How come you never made sexy little speeches like that when you were Captain?” he asks, a little huffily.

 

“Because no one ever threatened you when I was around,” Izumi mutters, sighing a heavy, longing sigh as he stares at Arashi’s back. “But…you know, damn.”

 

“I’m not a _demon_ ,” Eichi whines, slumping back down when it becomes apparent he’s too weak to break a shitty binding spell, _apparently_. It glows bright green whenever he tries, the five-pointed star bearing down over him burning his flesh and making him hiss. “This thing is _mean_. Shitty islanders, stop fucking lizards.”

 

Natsume’s teeth bare no matter how he feels himself shake a bit in his boots, highly disliking the task of staring down a large, strong man with a sword. “Don’t touch _me_ either,” he mutters, wrenching his arm away. “I don’t know why Mika likes you so much. Bad taste. Anyway, Sena, come with me, you’re all making this stupid and hard.”

 

“What am I doing, exactly?” Izumi flatly asks, trying to ignore how jittery _he_ feels. Being interrupted isn’t fun; even if he doesn’t have the kind of reaction Eichi does, it’s still almost impossible to banish the thought of what could have been. Telling his mind to calm down is one thing, but telling his body is another thing entirely.

 

“What does it matter?” Natsume exasperatedly says. “Just come with me.”

 

“Rei’s pregnant,” Eichi cheerfully offers up. “Terrible timing, really.”

 

Izumi stops dead, stares, and looks around at everyone as if expecting to be let in the joke. “Wait. Really?”

 

“It’s a bit weird for you to be judging about this, isn’t it?” Arashi asks with a quirk of his lips, though his eyes don’t leave Natsume, tracing his every move, his hand not relaxing in the slightest on the hilt of his sword. The pin of the Kingsguard glitters on his breast, and his stance is wary, signaling that no part of his threat should be taken as anything other than the law of the land. “I mean, given your current condition. No offense.”

 

“Everyone is having babies in the middle of a crisis, doesn’t this seem like a bad time?” Leo complains. “Take this spell off of Eichi immediately. Izumi, go with him. Arashi, stay with me and slice this kid’s hand off if he touches me again, that was a good threat.”

 

“I think my judgement is _really_ fair, considering what I know about Rei, and—wait, are you shitting me, is he seriously going to have a kid _before me?_ That’s not fair.”

 

“Petty, right?” Eichi wheezes, a trickle of sweat running down from his hairline. Dragonblooded magic _burns,_ ow, _ow._

 

“It’s not pettiness if it’s _your_ fault,” Natsume growls, and he turns back for the door in a huff. “It’ll fade once I’m gone. Don’t forget, _Milord_ , I don’t take orders from you. Come on, Sena.”

 

The second the door closes, Leo frowns, turning down to face Eichi on the floor. “What’s the deal with our treaty with the Isles? I don’t like it. If he won’t take orders from me, I’m going to make them pay higher taxes, that seems fair.”

 

As Natsume steps further away, the binding spell does fade, and Eichi slowly relaxes with a long, heaving sigh, shutting his eyes. “He doesn’t answer to you twice over,” he breathes. “Shitty kid from the Isles, _and_ a wizard directly under Rei’s thumb. You’re fucked, just kill him. Prophets are creepy, anyway. Ah, wow, my descendant is hot, huh.”

 

“He’s still in the room,” Leo points out, fluttering a hand over at Arashi, who still stands facing the door, though now his cheeks have gone pink.

 

“I knooow, that’s why I’m commenting on it,” Eichi sighs, slowly twisting onto his side when the spell fades enough to let him shift. His pupils are nothing but slits as he stares. “I’ve been rudely interrupted from my meal, what a terrible thing. You must know a thing or two about having something of a _very_ hungry bedmate, hmm?”

 

“A thing or two,” Arashi agrees, not turning around, though a prickle of apprehension and no little intrigue ripples up his spine. Maybe it’s just the way Eichi talks, as if he’s rolling the words around in his mouth, tasting their sweetness. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s been a while and he’s been surrounded by Izumi, smelling right and looking _wrong_. “But he doesn’t take, he just…makes, I think. From what I understand.”

 

“I’ve never felt scared with Izumi,” Leo agrees. “No danger sense.”

 

“You never have a danger sense, love,” Eichi says with a roll of his eyes, propping his chin into one hand as he keeps watching, his fingers slowly drumming against his cheek. “What does it matter if we feed differently? You’ll be fine, that blood of yours guarantees it. Turn arooound, I want to confirm you inherited your handsomeness from me.”

 

Arashi twirls his sword for a moment, more of a nervous habit than anything, then sheathes it suddenly, unable to resist a bit of a twirl. “How far back are you, anyway? It’s on my father’s side, right?”

 

“Mmmhm. Ah, some,” Eichi says, heaving himself up half-way before flopping back down with a huff. “That binding spell _hurt_. Let’s see, how far back, hmm, it should only be four or five generations. That woman was fairly clean-lineaged, as far as humans go; very tasty.”

 

“Like my great…” Arashi tries to count back, then shakes his head, frowning. “Four? Does that count my dad? Grandfather, great-grandfather…wait…which one of them was a woman?”

 

“He’s kind of bad at math,” Leo says charitably, with a sigh. “Just so you know. Very good at swords, though.”

 

“Same, actually! Except the kind of math that runs armies. I like that kind.” Eichi’s eyes glitter. “You’ve still obviously got _some_ sense. You’ve never threatened me like that little whore of a prophet, even though my hands are all over the king at all times.”

 

Arashi firms his chin, and folds his arms over his chest. “I’m sure I’ve threatened you before,” he says evenly. “Before you died.”

 

“Also,” Leo says cheerfully, “it’s really good for your career to keep the king happy, if you work for him. And he swore a blood pact to protect me, too. Isn’t that nice? He barely knew me, what a good boy.”

 

“Your friends threatened me—you barely got a chance to look at me,” Eichi says, openly amused.

 

“I’m really not,” Arashi says, more amused now than apprehensive. When it comes down to it, Leo has never actually led him wrong when it comes to being a judge of character. Every time he’s trusted the king, it’s wound up being either the right choice, or…at least right-choice-adjacent. And Leo likes this man, despite, well, everything. “If you’re expecting someone to start drooling at the size of it, stick to my king, and his husband.”

 

 

“You don’t have to want something big to want to be told you’re a good boy. At least, that’s my experience. Ahh, don’t bring up that ice drake right now, I’m sooo annoyed about that and I’m so hungry,” Eichi whines, forcing himself to finally sit up completely. “Let me have a bite, just a little one. I saved the West, you know!” 

 

 

Arashi hesitates. “Will it leave a mark?” he asks. “I don’t want it to be ugly.”

 

 

Eichi snorts in amusement. “You’re fucking that drake, and you’re worried about marks. Cute. Leo, have I ever left a scar on you?” 

 

 

“I don’t think so?” Leo immediately starts trying to see his own back, with limited success. “Unless I can’t see it!”

 

Arashi sighs, and strides over to the bed. “How do you do it, then? Bite to the neck? I’ve never let anything feed on me but Ritsu.”

 

 

“Like hell you haven’t.” Eichi reaches up, snatching a handful of Arashi’s shirt to drag him down closer. “You’ve had a number of things feed from you, whether you know it or not,” he breathes. “I _can_  bite you, but that’s no fun.” 

 

 

Arashi’s eyes flash, and he instinctively leans in, hand braced on Eichi’s chest to shove him back, one knee coming up to press him down. “Oh no? What’s the fun way, then?”

 

 

Eichi’s breath hitches as he flops back, tongue flicking out to run over his lower lip. “I _might_  be a little conditioned courtesy of a shitty demon I know,” he cheerfully says, fingers hooking idly into the laces of Arashi’s shirt. “It’s so… _simple_ , but I have to admit it’s easier to make magic flow through intimacy.” 

 

 

“I feel like you’re making this up,” Arashi says, but there’s a little smile playing on his face. He looks to the side, and ducks his head a little. “If it’s…that is…I don’t know the etiquette, but by your leave, my king?”

 

Leo blinks. “Oh? Oh! Yeah. Go ahead, there’s plenty of him to go around.” He shifts forward, then asks, “Can I be here, though? It makes me feel…good. When he feels good.”

 

 

“You’re not allowed out of my sight, so obviously you’re staying here,” Eichi says, though his eyes drag over Arashi, contemplative. “You really do have a blood pact, don’t you. Ah, it’s still nice and strong, I do love loyal boys. I bet that’ll make you tastier.” 

 

 

“Ritsu said it doesn’t really hold, since he and Izumi are only half-human,” Arashi says, amused as he kneels over Eichi on the bed, feeling his heart start to flutter in anticipation. Leo watching him is more exciting than intimidating, even if it’s been a long time since he’s “performed” for his king. “But I just figured…I was living as if I was bound, anyway. That’s what an oath is, isn’t it?”

 

 

“Oh, it’s still there. Maybe not with Ritsu and Izumi, but with Leo, for sure. You’re both human enough.” Eichi shifts, letting his legs splay as he unhooks the fastenings of his own cloak, leaving it to drape off of his shoulders and down onto the bed. His tongue runs over his lower lip, eyes lidded as he watches Arashi, the slope of his broad shoulders, the way his hair drips down onto it, and he heaves a sigh, boldly reaching down to grab at the laces of Arashi’s trousers. “Well, good. At least I’m about to be fucked by a man loyal to _my_  king.” 

 

 

“He’s lived like I’ve owned him for over a decade,” Leo breathes, watching with slitted eyes as Arashi moves, each curve and flat and angle of their bodies seeming to work together. They’re both athletes and warriors, he knows, if in different ways, and they’re gorgeous moving against each other. “You should take the oath off him, he doesn’t need it.”

 

“No,” Arashi says sharply, even if his eyes don’t leave Eichi’s. After all, he’s known from early childhood never to turn his back on a predator. “Leave it on. You’re my king, to death.”

 

 

“See, he likes it,” Eichi says, tugging on those laces until they part, and the leather cording hooks into his fingers for him to pull. His breath flutters in his chest, leaving him lightheaded and perhaps too over-eager—something that _has_  to be amplified by how Leo is watching them. “Come up here,” he breathes. 

 

 

One strong hand reaches out and shoves Eichi’s chest hard, pinning him down against the bed. Arashi looms down, the golden tail of his braided hair brushing over where his hand touches. His other hand starts to yank at Eichi’s laces, hand shoving his shirt up to let his fingertips drag over his abdomen. “You’re so _tall_ ,” he murmurs, eyes lidded. “I mean. Not so much when you’re on your back, though, heh.”

 

 

“I flatten out nicely, don’t I,” Eichi breathlessly sighs, content to be pinned, though not content to be idle, not when he can sink his hands into Arashi’s back with a bit of effort. He minds the long nails, making sure they’re far more human than demon in this scenario, but that doesn’t stop him from grabbing at Arashi to pull him down, taking a snap at his shoulder and letting his teeth catch a mouthful of fabric to bite and tug. “I can bend. Mmn, you’ve got stamina, don’t you? I bet you could fuck me until I pass out.”

 

 

“Er…sure,” Arashi bluffs, yanking off his shirt and tossing it behind himself, hearing it flop to the floor. 

 

“Ehh, really? Because Izumi says that you’re surprisingly one-and-done!”

 

Arashi scowls. “Thanks for that, Your Majesty. I hope he mentions that that one is usually enough for anyone!”

 

“I mean—“

 

“I don’t need you to say stuff right now, actually!” Arashi huffs, and tweaks one of Eichi’s nipples under his shirt.

 

 

“One and done is _great_  so long as it’s thorough,” Eichi cheerfully says, then squeaks as Arashi pinches him, leaving him to growl and hiss once the initial surprise passes. “So make it thorough,” he mutters, surging up to claim Arashi’s mouth.

 

When Arashi was a child, he’d never thought there was a difference between a good kisser and a bad kisser—lips are lips, after all. When he was a young adult, he’d thought kissing was an innate skill, something you were born with, or not.

 

Eichi kisses in a way that makes him think skill is underrated.

 

From what he’s heard, Eichi’s had a lifetime, an age of practice, and he feels it, radiating through him. There’s still a strange hesitancy about this—he’s never straddled someone who’d ripped his face off before—and that tingles through him, urging him to give as good as he gets, his teeth rasping against Eichi’s lips.

 

The sound that rumbles from Eichi’s chest is low and hungry, and he grabs for handfuls of Arashi’s hair, pulling him down, closer, harder, as he arches off the bed. His breath catches up in his chest for a moment, leaving him panting from more than just kissing, but being short of breath isn’t the worst thing when he’s pressed down underneath the weight of a man. His magic reaches out reflexively, grasping at Arashi warily as if expecting to be stung, but finding that blood pact simmering just beneath the surface leaves him to be far more of an open channel than Eichi expected.

 

It’s _so_ hard not to bite just yet.

 

He shivers with the urge, the _need_ to, and his nails sink into Arashi’s back.

 

“Everyone talks about you like you’re so terrifying,” Arashi breathes, trying not to show that he’s absolutely one of those people. “But you like being on your back just fine, mm?”

 

He drags a knee up between Eichi’s thighs, feeling the long, lean heat of him, drinking in the _scent_ of his skin. He nips at Eichi’s neck, his heart thudding hard with each liberty he takes, still certain with every second that he’ll see the monster from his memory, the one who’d nearly killed him and thrown him into the sea.

 

“I don’t hate it,” Eichi rasps, his voice hoarse when his lungs don’t entirely want to fill, but that doesn’t stop him from letting his head loll back, neck arched underneath the sharpness of Arashi’s teeth. He almost shoves a hand down between them, wanting a handful of Arashi’s cock sooner rather than later, but—something makes him hesitate. Arashi _probably_ would rather him behave himself, all things considered, and he does _not_ want to be turned down for another meal right now. So, instead, he wriggles down, sighing out a hiccuping breath when he arches against the pressure of Arashi’s thigh between his legs, and swings out a grabbing hand towards Leo instead.

 

Leo moves suddenly, like a small animal startled into movement. He grabs Eichi’s hand, nuzzles at it with cheek and chin, and presses a little kiss to his palm. “I give you permission,” he whispers, not really sure what’s driving him to say it. “It’s a pact for my sake, isn’t it? I want you to have him.”

 

Arashi feels a ripple wash through him, and he shivers, though his cock doesn’t get any less hard. Being a meal is new to him, no matter what Eichi hints about some of his past lovers. “Take some,” he agrees, even if it sounds stupid, if he can’t even understand why he’s doing this, except that Eichi is gorgeous and _hungry_ for him. “And I’ll have what I want from you.”

 

Eichi’s eyes lid, his fingers curling against Leo’s cheek, thumbing over his lower lip as he watches Arashi for a moment, eyes sharp, hungry, as slitted as any predator tracking its prey. “I’ll try to be nice,” he breathes after a moment, “but you don’t have to return that favor.”

 

He releases Leo as he lurches up, his teeth abruptly sinking into Arashi’s throat, his fangs sharp and precise as they sink into his skin. Tasting him through blood alone makes Eichi groan, his eyes fluttering shut as he feeds—not on blood, though that taste drives him to bite harder, but on the energy that seeps through it, flooding him with sudden warmth and fullness.

 

Eichi’s eyes are cold and hot at the same time, his teeth sharp as the mountains of Arashi’s homeland, and somehow, that drives Arashi into a frenzy. He lets out a growl, and the next yank to Eichi’s clothes rips them in half, tossing shreds of it back over his shoulder.

 

“Ooh,” Leo says softly. “He’s always so gentle with me. Arashi, how strong are you really?”

 

“Strong enough,” Arashi says roughly, and looks down at Eichi’s trousers. “You attached to those?”

 

Eichi collapses back as he releases Arashi’s throat, lips rouged with the coppery-red of blood that his tongue runs over slowly. “Nope,” he breathes, voice languid and at least temporarily sated. Flushed cheeks and glazed eyes only add to the picture, leaving him to look almost drunk. “Ahh, you’re tastier than I thought you’d be…you can do whatever you want to me, it’s only fair.”

 

“I can’t feel you taking anything at all,” Arashi muses, intrigued. “Are you actually good at this? Or do I have a lot of whatever you’re eating?”

 

“I’ve been feeding off of unsuspecting humans for centuries, but you’re special. Anyway, give me your dick,” Eichi flatly demands, giving into the urge to just grab for it this time, his fingers closing around the hardline of it through Arashi’s breeches. “Put it in me, I don’t care where. Leo wants to watch.”

 

Arashi groans. The hand on his cock grounds him, centers him. He doesn’t know a thing about how to deal with an archdemon snacking on him, but he _knows_ what to do when a pretty man grabs him. The trousers become the next victim of his hands, and he yanks up one of Eichi’s legs, spreading them wide. “Can you do the spell Izumi can? With the oil?”

 

Eichi exhales a breathless laugh at that, digging his heel into Arashi’s back when his leg is draped over that broad shoulder. “I was the Emperor, I can do _anything_ ,” he says, reaching down to drag his fingers over Arashi’s cock, leaving it slick beneath his touch.

 

Arashi’s breath hitches, and he ruts forward eagerly, spreading Eichi’s thighs wide as he lets his cock drag over Eichi’s hole. He swallows hard, then pulls back, a quick twist of his hands flipping Eichi onto his hands and knees. “All the better for you to grab the sheets, my lord,” he murmurs, and slides in, feeling the head of his cock spread Eichi wide. At the same time, he’s startled to hear Leo’s sharp intake of breath, his eyes fluttering closed as if he’s the one taking a thick cock.

 

Eichi groans, low and throaty and _pleased_ as he slides down to his elbows, his hands clenching into the sheets as his back arches, legs wobbling when that cock sinks into him. He pants open-mouthed, a droplet of sweat running down his spine as his knees spread further apart. “I’m really…not your lord,” he rasps, eyes slitted as they lock on Leo from underneath the sweaty fall of his bangs. _I’m_ your _dog._

 

Leo’s breathing is heavy, and he leans in, so close he can feel the heat of Eichi’s breath on his face. “You look so good,” he pants, grasping for Eichi’s hand, mouthing over one of his fingers, sloppy and eager. “I’ve never seen you like this, it’s good, it’s so good, I can feel how good it is…”

 

Despite Eichi and Leo being weird as hell, Eichi is tight and hot and eager. Arashi focuses on that, not letting himself get distracted, get confused. It’s easy to get lost in the madness, but he mouths over Eichi’s neck, biting in turn, and that feels good and hot, and makes him drive in deeper. “Pay attention,” he breathes. “Don’t forget who’s fucking you right now.”

 

Arashi’s dick deep inside of him, that hot mouth on his neck, sword-calloused hands on his skin—all of it makes Eichi pant and shudder, his arms failing to support him and leaving him to sag nearly facedown, overwhelmed when Arashi thrusts into him and Leo, _Leo_ in his head, seems just as overwhelmed as him. Or maybe it’s Leo’s fault that he feels like this, shaky and trembly all over, rocking back against Arashi’s cock with ragged, panting groans. “I’m—not forgetting,” he groans, pawing sloppily at Leo’s face to shove a pair of fingers into his mouth, twisting them against his tongue.

 

“Has he ever seen you like this?” Arashi asks, watching the odd, intense emotions flit between his king and the man he’s fucking, as if they’re connected at the eyes through the intensity of their gaze. “Has he ever seen you begging for more cock, rocking back like this? You seem so proud, but you like this a _lot_ , don’t you?”

 

Eichi _does_ seem like he likes it a lot, like it’s enough to make him pant and squirm around on Arashi’s dick. He’s fun to fuck, despite all the weirdness circling around, and Arashi grips his hips, slamming in harder, deeper with every thrust.

 

Eichi shakes his head mindlessly as he feels the last string holding himself together give out, and he slumps entirely down, knowing he’s drooling into a his pillow and not giving a single fuck. It’s a damned good thing Arashi has him by the hips, or he’d be little more than a puddle on the bed, good for exactly _one_ thing, and that’s this. “Never…like this, with him,” he breathes, voice hiccuping. “Not that I h-haven’t offered, but—ahh— _fuuuck_.”

 

A long, shuddery tremor rakes down his spine, leaving Eichi to clench and squirm and come on Arashi’s cock, his eyes rolling back into his head at the way his orgasm _lingers_ , making his toes curl and hands clench into the sheets.

 

Eichi is lovely, Arashi has to admit, and he _likes_ having a tall, well-muscled man panting and begging and writhing. He fetches a slap to Eichi’s ass, his face flushed and eager. “You’re better at that than I expected. Up for a little more, or do you want me to finish?”

 

The response Eichi offers at first is little more than a gurgle, and he shivers again with the slap of Arashi’s hand, wriggling back. “You,” he groans, “can do whatever you want to me. But maybe ask your king first, I’m on loan.”

 

Leo lets out a strangled little noise, and drags Eichi’s hand to his own thighs, letting him feel the sticky damp spot spreading quickly over his trousers. “I’m fine,” he breathes, eyes glazing over. “Lord Arashi…I want to see your seed on his skin.”

 

Arashi licks his lips, pulling out to start stroking himself swiftly. “Anywhere?”

 

“Everywhere. No, no, on his face.”

 

“Ahh, a king with taste,” Eichi sighs, languidly rolling himself over and splaying out on his back, raking his bangs out of his face one-handedly as his eyes lock on Arashi’s hand moving on his cock. “I’ll even lick you clean after, if you want,” he murmurs.

 

With that last lazy comment, Arashi barely makes it up to straddle Eichi’s chest, before spilling messily over Eichi’s chin, his cheeks, his fluttering eyelids. He groans, milking out every last drop, painting Eichi’s face and at the same time, marveling at his own audacity. “You look good like this,” he murmurs, and nudges Eichi’s lips with the tip of his cock.

 

Leo lunges forward, tongue flicking out to lick at Eichi’s face, his breath coming fast, hand sliding down to rub over Eichi’s chest, touch-hungry.

 

Eichi’s eyes flutter, lashes sticky with come—which only makes his cheeks flush hotter, spurred on further by the cock at his lips that he can’t help but taste with an eager swipe of his tongue, mouth parting further to suck on the tip. Leo’s tongue is slick and hot and makes him shiver with the sudden shock of it, and he swings a hand out, grabbing at the front of his shirt, stuffing a hand underneath it to almost reflexively pinch one of his nipples.

 

Leo gasps, whines, then crawls on top of Eichi’s chest, nearly shoving Arashi back, grabbing at Eichi’s softening cock. “Give,” he half-demands, half-begs. “Hard, now, in me, nnh, please, I need—“

 

Arashi hasn’t survived as many threesomes as he has by not knowing when to beat a hasty retreat, and he shifts quickly to the side, sated and satisfied, letting his eyes flick over the lovely tableau still twisting on the bed.

 

“Be sweet, I’m _sticky_ ,” Eichi whines, but he moves like he doesn’t give a damn, barely pausing to wipe a hand across the back of his eyes before he’s shoving Leo onto his back with one hand and prowling over him like the predator he is. His fingers unravel the laces of Leo’s trousers, yanking them down as his mouth fastens to the side of his neck, pressing a wet, sucking kiss to his skin. “You liked watching me get fucked that much, did you?” he murmurs, eyes flicking up to briefly catch Arashi’s. “Should I give it to you as good as he did to me, kitty?”

 

Leo growls, grabbing Eichi by the hair and forcing his head down, compelling him to meet his eyes. “Harder than he did you,” he protests, wrapping his legs around Eichi’s waist, shamelessly arching up against the thick swell of Eichi’s cock. “Harder than—mnnh, don’t care, just want you in me.”

 

Arashi flops back on the bed, hands laced behind his head, eyes lidded as he watches Eichi. He’s a different creature like this, predatory and careful, rather than wild and abandoned. It’s fascinating, and if he weren’t so delightfully sated, he’d probably try to get in on some of that again.

 

Eichi lunges against the hold on his hair, his teeth snapping against the line of Leo’s jaw. “Hard enough that you regret it?” he asks, amused, his eyes glittering as he shifts, drawing his knees up closer, the head of his cock rubbing against the back of Leo’s thigh. “I think,” he breathes, reaching a hand down to guide his cock, already slick from the seamless, careless application of magically procured oil, “that can be arranged. Mnn, here, kitty, hold on tight.”

 

A teasing press of his cock to Leo’s hole is the last warning he gets before Eichi sinks in, knowing exactly how fast he can go, how hard, how _deep_ before it’s too much in the worst way, and staying just shy of that as he buries himself in one long thrust, a breathless grunt muffled into Leo’s hair as Eichi’s hands grab him up by the waist, pulling him down when he ruts in.

 

Leo suddenly goes still, his face slack, but eyes wide and startled. He swallows, hands clenched, blinking rapidly. “It…doesn’t hurt,” he says softly, a little confused. He looks down, as if to determine that Eichi is, in fact, inside him. “I mean—it feels good, but…”

 

Eichi pauses, long enough to blow a sweaty strand of hair out of his face and try not to look so _incredibly_ smug. “I can try to make it hurt, if that’s what you want?” he sweetly offers, rocking back and dragging Leo up into his lap. “Maybe our bond won’t let it hurt now. Makes sense, think how Rei gets when he needs to eat Shu alive.”

 

Leo shivers hard, a tingle running up his spine as he arches, rocking down onto Eichi’s cock. “Ah…I don’t hate this,” he admits. “I’m just, surprised? Nnh, I knew it was growing back…cool, fuck me as hard as you can.”

 

“Anything for His Majesty.”

 

Eichi’s hands splay around Leo’s hips, dragging him down as he thrusts up, burying his cock in as deeply as he can as his mouth fastens to Leo’s neck, sucking and biting. “If it doesn’t hurt,” he lowly rumbles, tongue snaking up to trace the curve of Leo’s ear, “that just means I get to fuck you _more_.”

 

Arashi’s eyes sharpen from the shadows, and he watches the bites to Leo’s neck appear red and angry, then vanish in the blink of an eye. He watches finger-shaped bruises on Leo’s hips do the same, and even he, pathetically mundane by magical standards, feels the thick current of power threading through the room. _At least this seems to be in the king’s best interests,_ he thinks finally, though he can’t exactly shrug away his unease.

 

“S-still feels good,” Leo moans, mouth gone slack, eyes rolling back in his head when the steady fullness takes him over, dominating his thoughts, making him quiver in pleasure. He misses the pain, a little, but Eichi is so _big_ that it’s hard to protest anything, leaving him just twisting down, drooling and pleading.

 

“Just _good?_ ” Eichi neatly shoves Leo onto his back again, an arm hooked underneath one of those lean legs to push it back as he covers Leo with his body, thrusting in deeply enough that the slap of their skin together sounds through the room. “Looks better than just _good_ ,” he murmurs, a droplet of sweat dripping down from his hairline to splatter over Leo’s skin when he grinds in and stays there, barely pulling out for a moment just to feel Leo clench and squirm. He pinches and pulls on a nipple, following the arch of Leo’s back underneath him. “Maybe…it doesn’t hurt because you’re the kind of whore that _needs_ this now.”

 

Despite having already spilled, Leo can’t help himself when Eichi feels like he’s inside Leo so deeply he’s crowding out his lungs, can’t even breathe. Every part of his skin prickles and tingles, and he cries out, nails raking deeply into Eichi’s back, his muscles tensing and quivering as he releases against Eichi’s stomach. “You’re so big,” he whispers, face pressed against Eichi’s shoulder. “So big, so good, don’t ever stop fucking me.”

 

Eichi’s inhales sharply, the drag of Leo’s nails down his spine, the little whiny, hiccuping cry against his skin, those breathy whispers by his ear—all of it is too much, all of it makes him tense and overwhelmed and consumed by the sudden, sharp _need_ to sink his teeth straight through Leo and into his soul.

 

Ah, no, not _yet_.

 

Instead, he just holds Leo down, pulls him into the eager thrust of his hips two, three times more before he spills, muffling his groan into Leo’s hair, filling him slick and hot inside. “I never want to pull out, you know,” he murmurs, his breath hot against Leo, even as his eyes flick up, holding Arashi’s gaze. His pupils slit for a brief moment before refocusing to look appropriately human, which he _does_ think should be warning enough. _This is mine, keep your distance._

 

Arashi looks hurriedly away, not wanting to intrude, and also not wanting to be eaten. The sex is good, obviously, but the idea of this being worth it on a long-term basis is a little chilling.

 

Leo mouths a sloppy kiss to Eichi’s neck, snuggling in. “You never do. Doesn’t matter what—you’re always in me, you know?”

 

“Mm, that’s the idea,” Eichi cheerfully says, pressing a kiss to Leo’s hair before he slowly sits back, pulling Leo with him to make good on his promise to not pull out just yet. “Don’t worry,” he says, peering over his shoulder to Arashi, a smile on his face. “I’m not going to eat you. I already had a taste, and that was enough. Also, I like your cock, so you’ll survive to the end.”

 

“To the end,” Arashi echoes, trying to think of a way that isn’t ominous as hell. “Ah, well, fine. That was nice, Majesty. Do you mind if I sort of…”

 

“Go,” Leo murmurs, eyes lidded. “We get weird after, I know.”

 

“I’ll be over to check on Rei later, you can let him know,” Eichi lightly says, flopping backwards and draping his arms around Leo to keep him firmly pressed to his chest. “And send Sena back when he’s done. I want a taste of that, too.”

 

Arashi stands, taking his cue and tugging his clothes back on. “I’m not an errand boy, I’m the Captain of the Kingsguard,” he says mildly. “I’ll be outside the door, doing my duty.”

 

Eichi shrugs, unconcerned as he rolls to better crush Leo underneath his weight, deciding that’s much more necessary right now. “Whatever, be sweet to me all the same. I saved your silly little dominance.”

 

“You also ripped my face off, we’re even.”

 

“Nope, because you were working against me so that was fair,” Eichi sing-songs, nuzzling his face into Leo’s neck. “Nhhh, Leoooo, make him be nice to me, I’m cute, right?”

 

“Stop focusing on him, _I’m_ the one who thinks you’re cute,” Leo growls, and he pulls a blanket over both of them, plunging them into darkness.

 

Arashi sighs, then leaves the room. There’s just no reasoning with some people.

 

“I’m only focusing on him because he was giving me that suspicious look that guards like to give people,” Eichi complains, burrowing down into their self-contained darkness. “Like he thought I was going to eat you once and for all, or something like that…even though I’ve been _good_.”

 

“Is it really back?” Leo asks softly, resting his head against Eichi’s chest. “It feels like it, but…I can’t see it. I can’t. I don’t know how to.”

 

“I think it must be.” Eichi’s eyes lid, glowing bright blue in the dim light as he drags his fingers down through Leo’s hair, dislodging his already thoroughly mussed ponytail. “Heh. Not that I can really see it, either. That’s not one of my many talents, no matter how I’ve tried to make it be.”

 

“Liar. Bullshit. You can do anything.”

 

“Not true! I really can’t see it,” Eichi protests, twirling a strand of Leo’s hair around one finger. “Which is stressful. I want to be able to protect it properly, bonds are really delicate.”

 

“Delicate?” Leo flops back onto his back, then props himself up on his elbows. “I thought nothing could break them. Except like, someone as powerful as you.”

 

“They can’t be broken, but they can be influenced, or even just _touched_ , and by someone magical, that could be very bad. Or even just feel gross, which neither of us want,” Eichi sniffs, rolling to the side and pulling the blanket off of his head to better shake out his hair. “And you’re human. You’re always going to need a little bit of extra protection, at least.”

 

“At least we know it’s working now,” Leo points out, reaching up to tug a strand of Eichi’s hair. “Because it doesn’t hurt me. And your prick hasn’t gotten any smaller.”

 

Eichi beams, plopping back down and dropping his chin into his hands. “It certainly hasn’t. I’m glad it doesn’t hurt, but at the same time, I like the faces you make when it does. Hmm, when do you think Sena’s going to have that baby of yours?”

 

“I hope soon. I hope today,” Leo says cheerfully. “I want to see if I can announce it to the world already. Mm, what should I name it, if it’s a real male heir?”

 

“Do you only want it if it’s male?” Eichi asks, amused. “Mm, actually, that might be safer. If it’s a girl, I’ll just want to nibble on it, especially if it’s as cute as your sister—“

 

“I don’t only want it if it’s male!” Leo snaps. “And you don’t get to eat it either way! If it’s a cute little girl, I’ll put another baby in Izumi while I send him back up to the North to wait for the big reveal, especially if it’s a red-haired girl.”

 

“So virile of you, Majesty. Don’t keep sending him away, though, I’ll get cranky. I really do want to take a bite out of him.”

 

“Don’t say it like that or I get weird! Say you want to lick him!”

 

“But I thought you wanted me to be honest, so I am.”

 

“You always use that as an excuse to be gross,” Leo accuses.

 

“You like it when I’m gross.”

 

“Well! Yeah! But that doesn’t mean you can be gross _all_ the time, you have to deal it out in little chunks.”

 

“I mostly just do it in private!” Eichi protests, his lower lip jutting into a pout. “With _you_. You’re privy to this side of me, you should be happy.”

 

“There’s a reason privy should be private. It sounds like a toilet.”

 

“Wow. I see how it is, you don’t love the real me.”

 

Leo laughs, and crawls on top of Eichi, biting at his nose. “Careful. I might get offended. And I’m the king.”

 

“I wish you’d be offended and punish me,” Eichi brightly says, flopping his arms around Leo’s waist. “Or kill me. You’re the only one allowed to.” He pauses, running a thumb over the jut of one of Leo’s hips. “Which reminds me—I suppose we’re going North next. You’re the king, and I’m your dog, but…if I tell you to do something up there, take my word for it and do it. Please.”

 

Leo sobers immediately, and shakes his head. “I can’t make you that promise. I’m the king, there are things that are more important than my safety. That’s not going to change. If you just wanted delicate chattel, you should have left me behind.”

 

“That’s fine when it comes to humans, and I trust you to take care of yourself among them, even on a battlefield. But these aren’t humans, and they don’t think like humans, and if you won’t promise to listen to me, then I _will_ leave you behind.”

 

“You’re not bringing me,” Leo reminds him mildly. “I’m bringing you. I will promise that I’m not going to seek out a battlefield, my weapon of choice is long-range, and it’s not like I want to die before I meet my heir.”

 

Eichi pauses, lips pursing. “You’re not listening to me,” he points out, obviously annoyed even though his tone is still light. “Which is funny, because that’s exactly how the other archdemons up in the North are going to act around you. You know they don’t care that you’re the king, right? They care that you’re my mate. They’ll want to eat you.”

 

“Good thing I have you to keep me safe, right?” Leo asks brightly, lips drawn tight. “And Rei? And Izumi? And Kaoru? And Wataru? And Natsume?”

 

“Useless. All of them. All you have is me, and only if you _swear_ you’ll listen to me.” Eichi leans forward, stare intent. “You have absolutely no sway with them. You have no _say_ in what happens with them. You’re lunch. Worse, you’re my mate and you’re lunch. So if I grab you by the neck and pin you down to prove a point, what should you do?”

 

Leo stares at him. “You mean in front of demons? Er…lay there? Give you a thumbs up?”

 

“Yes, I mean in front of demons. Laying there is a start, so long as you actually mean it. The more submissive you act, the better.” Eichi heaves a sigh, leaning back. “I’m not telling you this because I _want_ you to be like this. I’m telling you because you _need_ to act like this, if you’re going to come with me to talk to these idiots.”

 

“You know who they are?” Leo asks, one eyebrow raising. “I thought you weren’t sure what we were dealing with, and now all of a sudden you know everything?”

 

“Wellll…I never said I didn’t know _who_ we’re dealing with. I said I didn’t know how strong they might be, or what they’re capable of at the moment, exactly…”

 

Leo blinks slowly. “Tell me,” he says quietly, without any of his usual manic cheer. “Right now. Tell me everything you know.”

 

Eichi hesitates visibly, his eyes sliding sideways. “Ahh…hmm. Well. The thing is, I don’t really want to. It’s better if you don’t know, much safer.”

 

“Okay, that’s rejected,” Leo says firmly. “These people are attacking my country. Tell me now. I’m not a liability in this world, Eichi.”

 

“You’re a liability to me, and I’m what is keeping this world intact right now. Rebuttal?”

 

“Yeah, you’re wrong.” Leo sticks out his chin stubbornly. “So far you’re just closed one Gate. Shu has too. I’m the only, the only king the entire country will accept, and the public sentiment holds that you’re a monster. Only at my side do you have a chance of social rehabilitation. Agree or disagree?”

 

“Agree, but irrelevant to the current situation. These demons don’t care about you or your country or your social hierarchies and taxes. They want to eat. Shu can’t stop them from doing that, he’s in the same position _you_ are.”

 

“I can’t make a single decision about the way to handle any of them,” Leo says flatly, “because you have all the information and I have none. Fuck this, we aren’t going up there. I’m turning this whole caravan around, we’ll try it again when you’re being more cooperative.”

 

“No—damn it, Leo, you’re really the worst, you know that?” Eichi exasperatedly says, huffing as he leans back, folding his arms. “One of them is Hiyori’s mate,” he finally settles upon. “He loaned Hiyori to me, to help me get back up here in the first place. I’m not sure what he wants in return.”

 

Leo laces his hands together, running his tongue around his teeth. “So you’re in their debt?”

 

“Not…precisely. It was a gesture more or less required of him, if he wanted to maintain any kind of standing. But if I don’t extend something in return, it’s likely he’ll pitch a fit. He’s young, and…more than that, currently influenced by a Drude, so he’s not in his right mind.”

 

“Tell me about him. I want to know a few things.” Leo ticks them off on his fingers. “I want to know what he’s like, emotionally. I want to know what he might want from you. I want to know what a Drude is really like. I want to know what you think about him, your personal opinion.”

 

“If I tell you any of that, you can’t repeat it. Most importantly, you can’t to Rei.”

 

Leo’s eyes glitter dangerously. “You have a lot of rules you’re putting on me, dog.”

 

Eichi spreads his hands disarmingly. “Your dog is just trying to protect you. I can only protect one king, and the Demon King isn’t the one I’ve chosen.”

 

Slightly mollified, Leo relaxes back. “Tell me, then. He’s not my king, either.”

 

Eichi hesitates again, but a quickly crafted spell silences the room, seeping underneath the crack of the door, against the window panes, effectively shutting Arashi’s lurking guardian presence out as well. Loyal to Leo he may be, but he’s still in Izumi’s bed, who is in Ritsu’s, so by proxy, he’s in Rei’s—and Eichi refuses to trust that. “His name is Nagisa. My personal opinion is that he’s my grandson, so he’s a very handsome idiot.”

 

“Wait, is it your personal opinion that he’s handsome since he’s your grandson, or that your opinion is that he’s your grandson? Confusing.”

 

“You’re being a little shit again. He’s a handsome idiot that has far too much power at a young age. He respects me, but sort of in the way that…mmn, two male dogs fighting over the same bitch would. A healthy amount of wariness, but still fairly certain he could take me down if he really wanted to. He can’t, if I’m fed. But if I’m not, he absolutely can. Also, he may or may not be displeased with my treatment of Hiyori, we’ll find out.”

 

Leo spends a few very nice seconds imagining a younger, more intense Eichi fighting over him, then shakes his head, trying to clear the image. “Uh. Oh. Um…and what…does he want?”

 

Eichi stares at him for a moment, then snorts, amused. “You’d die, don’t even think about it,” he says. “As for what he wants—well, the same thing all archdemons want. To be here.”

 

“All archdemons?” Leo asks, confused. “I thought you were like, the only one here. If they’re all so powerful and they want to be here…why aren’t there more of them?”

 

“Most aren’t powerful enough to drag themselves from the depths. The great majority are as powerful as say…a high-leveled, well-trained Nooncloak. That still isn’t enough to haul themselves to the human realm, and it’s because even archdemons have diluted blood these days. We’ve interbred with humans and other things for too long. Neither Nagisa or Hiyori are purebred, you see.”

 

“Madara says it’s because the dragons always ate them. But there aren’t any dragons left except for him, right?” Leo muses, tapping his chin. “So why are you so strong if the rest of your guys are shitty?”

 

Eichi’s mouth twitches. “Don’t get me started on dragons. I’m strong because I’m old. There’s not an ounce of human or bloodbred or anything else strange in me.”

 

“There was a minute ago,” Leo says with a grin. “I saw a lot of ounces of human in you.”

 

“Uh huh. That could be you, you know. I’m not opposed.”

 

Leo’s very sated cock gives a twitch, and spots of color appear on his cheeks. “I could be the human in you,” he agrees, licking his upper lip. “I’m usually tired by now, but honestly, I feel _great_.”

 

“You’re really getting used to me, then,” Eichi says, amused as he grabs for Leo, pulling him close again. “I suppose I must’ve answered enough questions for my king if you’re thinking about this instead.” _Good, I don’t want to talk about Drude or anything else._

 

Leo huffs. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten all the questions I want you to answer,” he warns, though he doubts his voice holds much authority when he climbs on top of Eichi, tweaking one of his nipples. “I haven’t forgotten them. I just can’t remember them when I want to fuck you so bad.”

 

Eichi’s breath hiccups, and he shifts underneath Leo, hands dragging down his back to grab handfuls of his ass and squeeze. “If you remember later, you can ask me then,” he airily says. “Until then, who cares.”

 

“Just as long…as you know…”

 

Leo fumbles for words, settling himself between Eichi’s thighs, heart starting to race. “That I’m not just going to…let you do whatever you want…” Gods, it’s so hard to concentrate, what were they talking about? Eichi’s skin is hot, Leo feels like his blood is boiling every time they touch.

 

“Mmmhm. So I’ve been told.” Eichi’s thighs close around Leo, squeezing as he drags his fingers back up through Leo’s hair. “You’re the king, I’m the dog,” he purrs, reaching down to curl a hand around Leo’s already achingly hard cock, easing it to his hole.

 

Leo grabs Eichi’s hand, pinning it above his head with a lopsided little grin. “I can do this much, at least. For my dog.”

 

With that, he seizes Eichi in a kiss, sucking in his tongue as he slides deep inside, hips nestled up against Eichi’s as he lets out a sigh of eager bliss.

 

Eichi’s back arches with a pleased, throaty sound muffled into Leo’s mouth. His fingers curl and clench into his palm as he reflexively wriggles down, his thighs pressed against Leo’s waist as he rocks down onto his cock. “This is…nhh…a reward for saving the world, right?” he breathes, his head lolling back as his other hand drags down Leo’s spine, nails flexing in. “You fit so perfectly, don’t you…”

 

Leo’s hands wind around Eichi’s neck, and his next kiss is nearly bruising, his hips snapping in when there’s no sign of resistance, of hesitation. “This isn’t a reward,” he pants, fingers curling against the back of Eichi’s neck, pricking against his skin. “This is…nn, this is just because…I want it, you know? Want…want you…”

 

Eichi’s toes curl hard, the insistence of Leo’s words combined with the hard snap of his hips briefly taking his breath away. A low, hungry groan rasps from his throat, tongue running over his own, kiss-bruised lips. A king that has him like this just because he _wants_ to, just for _his_ pleasure—yes, Eichi _does_ like that. “Then,” he breathes, tipping his head back a bit more in pleased submission, “I’m at His Majesty’s service.”

 

Leo whimpers, and lets out a frustrated little growl, nipping at Eichi’s shoulder as he lurches in. “N-no, not my service, you _love_ this, right?”

 

His voice is a panting rasp in Eichi’s ear, each movement of his body getting rougher, more certain, more confident. “You love this. I know it. You _love_ this, I can _feel_ it, you know that? Fuck, I…I love it, you’re so…”

 

 _Bonds don’t lie, do they?_ Eichi wildly thinks as his hands claw at Leo’s back, breathless, eager grunts escaping his throat when Leo ruts in hard enough to make him arch and wince and squirm. Sweat beads at his hairline, his cock twitching hard between his legs where it’s trapped between them. “’s not…mutually exclusive,” he groans, head twisting to catch Leo’s mouth, sloppy and eager. “Fuck me, you can do this whenever you _want_.”

 

“Don’t get too used to it,” Leo breathes, teasing as he snakes a hand around, pinching and tugging at a nipple, bracing himself against the bed for more leverage, helping him to slam in harder, faster with each thrust. “Nnh—good thing both of us love it both ways, huh? Fuck, I’m going to make you really full, you know?”

 

Each breath Eichi sucks in is ragged, and he snakes a hand down to grab a handful of Leo’s ass, dragging him into each thrust when his legs start to shake and shiver far too much to stay clamped to his waist. “Good,” he rasps, eyes fluttering as his chest heaves. “H-honestly—if one of us is gonna get knocked up—“

 

He gasps and twitches, fingers digging in hard, every muscle a shivering, trembling mess when he spills hot and slick between them.

 

The feel of Eichi writhing on his cock is enough to drag Leo over the edge, the fact that _he_ is the one inside Eichi, lost in bliss at the squeeze of Eichi’s body around him too much. He cries out, heedless of the thinness of the walls. He sinks his teeth into Eichi’s shoulder, then thunks his forehead down against his chest, collapsing bonelessly on top of him. “Ndnnduuugh,” he groans, eyes squeezed tightly shut. “You…took my soul out. Pretty sure.”

 

Eichi exhales a long, shaky breath, splaying out uselessly. “I wish,” he wistfully says, out of breath and really quite enjoying it. “I bet it would taste…so…so good. Ahh, I’m so sticky.”

 

“When I can move,” Leo says firmly, plastered to Eichi, “I’ll lick it off you.”

 

“Sounds good, but I also definitely want a bath now,” Eichi groans, burying his face into the sheets. “I’m not you, I don’t like to travel when I’m still a sticky mess.”

 

“Don’t say sexy things like that. I’ll wanna go again. And I’m dead for sure.”

 

“Nope, absolutely not, not right now,” Eichi bemoans, stretching out and effectively bucking Leo off with a gentle shove. “I haven’t had a dick in me for years, this is two in one day, I’m done.”

 

Leo flops, then melts to the bed. “If you want me bathed,” he warns, “you’ll have to do it yourself. I can be carried. I’m a carryable king.”

 

Eichi grumbles at that, sprawling out facedown. “ _I_ want to be carried and bathed like a king. Who’s gonna spoil me, huh?”

 

“If you want to be bathed, it’ll have to be like a dog,” Leo says around a yawn. “In the horse trough.”

 

“Noooo. That sounds cold and terrible. Why are you so mean when I’m _so_ cute and _so_ nice to you.”

 

Leo blinks slowly. “Because you have to remember to be my dog. Otherwise you might forget and try to take over the world again. And you’re so much cuter this way.”

 

“It’s a metaphor, I don’t want to be treated like an _actual_ dog,” Eichi whines, kicking his feet slowly. “Fine, if you won’t take care of me, I’ll just call Wataru.”

 

Leo pouts, and rolls over, nuzzling into Eichi’s neck, licking a trail of his sweat. “You’re cute. Love on me.”

 

Eichi huffs, sulking for a moment more before he slowly rolls, draping his limbs over Leo and stuffing his face into his hair. “I want to eat you. Whole.”

 

Leo starts to answer flippantly, then goes quiet, just breathing in Eichi’s scent for a moment. “I want you to,” he says softly. “I know it doesn’t make any sense.”

 

Eichi snorts out a laugh at that, the sound muffled into Leo’s hair. “Even just a little bite sounds good,” he says wistfully, his fingers running slowly down Leo’s spine. “But I’m so afraid I won’t stop…ahh…I’ll just keep dreaming about it, I suppose.”

 

“Is there…anything that could make it safe?” Leo asks, lips pressed against Eichi’s neck. “I feel like it would be good for you.”

 

“…Mmnn, maybe, but I’m not willing to take that risk just yet,” Eichi exhales, his eyes lidded as he toys with the ends of Leo’s hair. “Let me finish saving your kingdom first, hmm? Then a little bite will be my reward.”

 

Leo looks up at him, green eyes clear, trusting. “I don’t think you need anyone to stop you,” he says quietly. “I trust you. I don’t think you’d hurt me, no matter how hungry you get.”

 

“You think so highly of me,” Eichi softly says, sounding a mix amused and fascinated. “You’re an odd king, you know that?”

 

“If I live another hundred years and get better every day,” Leo says with a laugh, “I might even become a good king.”

 

“Mmm…you don’t need a hundred years for that. You are a good king, or I wouldn’t waste my time. I’d just do what I wanted with you.”

 

“Then what makes me so odd?” Leo asks, though the praise makes him glow. “Everyone said my great-grandfather was a good king, you know? But I don’t know what he did to earn it, he was just king when the harvests were good and no one was making war.”

 

“You’re odd because you’re keeping me around,” Eichi says, amused. “In spite of everything. Also, because you’re odd. In a cute way, but still odd. Your great-grandfather was a decent king, but what makes a good king is knowing how to make those good harvests even better, and how to make your people not realize that they have a bad harvest on their hands.”

 

Leo’s energy dims slightly, and he stares at Eichi, hardly comprehending. “I know I’m not…normal. But how could I not keep you around? The bond, you know?”

 

Eichi’s eyebrows raise as he leans back, fingers slowly drumming against his cheek. “You could’ve just locked me up,” he mildly says. “And forgotten about me. Sane kings that are already married happily would.”

 

“Don’t be stupid,” Leo says, more cheerfully than the words would convey. “I’ll believe you if you tell me I’m a good king, I guess. But not if you say I’m sane.”

 

“Oh, I know you’re not.” Eichi’s eyes lid, slitted underneath the fall of his lashes. “I don’t hate that.”

 

“I don’t mean in a cute, zany way,” Leo protests. “I mean it. I mean, I’m less crazy now than I was before you came back, but…mmnmhm.”

 

“Leo. I _know_ how you are.”

 

Leo flushes up to the tips of his ears. “That’s kind of scary, though. Because I hardly know anything about you.”

 

“Eh? But don’t you? Fine, ask then. I’ll be forthright. Ah, but you can’t tell anyone else. I only serve one king and everyone else around here seems to serve two, or the wrong one.”

 

Leo pushes Eichi gently onto his back, and he shifts, climbing onto his lap. “Yeah? So tell me. I want to hear. I want to know…way more about you. Everything. Doesn’t it sound fun to talk to someone that isn’t going to pull away? I mean, I basically can’t, right? I know I’m just a weak, squishy human, but…I’m a person. A whole one, I think.”

 

“A tasty one,” Eichi grouses, flopping back obediently into the pillows, his hands only lifting to absently stroke over Leo’s hips. “Not so squishy. Only your insides are squishy. But I digress. Where do you want me to start? I’m _old_ , you know.”

 

“I don’t even know how old you are,” Leo confesses, hands dropping down to stroke slowly over Eichi’s hands. “So, how about that? Do you have parents? When did you come to this world? What are relationships like, for archdemons, between each other? Have you been married? What’s the source of your magic? What else have you looked like over the…well. You get my point, just kinda start there.”

 

“I’ve lost count of how old I am. Thousands, I think?”

 

Eichi’s fingers curl, contemplative as they run along Leo’s hipbones. “I don’t think I ever really had parents. I came to this realm before there were depths to be tossed into, and…mm, I think I’ve always looked at least something like this. Modifications here and there, to better match what humans like to see, but that’s about it. I’ve had long hair a few times, but I prefer lopping it off, too much work.” He cocks his head. “I’ve never been married, and _I’m_ the source of my magic, which is why I have to eat so much. Oh, and archdemon society is a mess, but it might turn you on.”

 

“But you have family,” Leo pesters, trying to make sure he doesn’t sit anywhere _too_ interesting, knowing how prone to being distracted both of them are. “You said you have a grandson. Tell me about that. If you never had parents, how did you know what to do?”

 

“Mmnnn…back in the day, you have to understand, all creatures just wanted to emulate humans. So, we did. I did. I was very good at it, too.” Eichi shrugs one shoulder. “I have a grandson. I have a _lot_ of children, most of which are dead, I imagine. Arashi, for example, is definitely my descendent. Nagisa…well, he’s a special case. He’s actually my son, too, but that’s less important.”

 

Leo opens his mouth, then shuts it again, as that statement hits and confuses him all at once. “Wait. Uh…math…how does that work, exactly? Also, is Arashi ever going to die?”

 

“It would be pretty difficult for him to,” Eichi cheerfully says. “Anyway, it’s less math and more simple inbreeding. My daughter was as hot as her mother, so I fucked her, too, and then Nagisa was born. Well, I suppose that’s not strictly true. Mostly I just forgot who she was and _then_ fucked her. Unimportant. Anyway.”

 

“Er…” Leo fumbles for words for a moment, and when he finds them, they don’t feel entirely adequate. “Humans…uh…don’t…do…that…”

 

“Sure they do. They just don’t tell you about it. The royal family is as inbred as a good racehorse, especially hundreds of years back.”

 

“Oh, well, _yeah_ ,” Leo admits. “I mean, even nowadays they strongly encourage us to marry cousins. But you gotta keep it at least one degree removed, or at least keep it generational. Brothers and sisters, cousins, that kind of thing, but if you start getting into parents and children, or uncles and nieces, you start getting real ugly royalty, you know?”

 

“In demons, it doesn’t matter,” Eichi dismissively says. “In humans, obviously both parents contribute to the child, but…in demons, creatures, whatever—whoever the dominant partner is, for the most part, that’s what the offspring will be like, and what their primary characteristics will be. Ah, we have prime examples among us, Rei and Ritsu.”

 

Leo’s eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously, it’s that different, to make kids? How does the baby know what to—or do you even have babies? Do they get carried in a belly, or do they just kinda…grow out of smoke or something?”

 

“Depends on the creature, but as far as I’ve seen, most creatures carry them just like humans do—the exceptions probably being Airbred, or Skybred, but those are clouds and eggs. Oh, Wavebred. They lay eggs, too.”

 

Leo thumps his hands down into fists on the bed. “Wait. _Who_ lays eggs? Lead with that next time, lead with that!”

 

“You should talk to that little witch of a prophet,” Eichi dryly says, reaching around to give Leo’s ass a pinch. “He’s got dragon in him. He’ll lay eggs in you.”

 

Leo squeaks, half-startled, half-enthusiastic. “I still believe you could, if you wanted to,” he accuses.

 

“Ehhh…doubt that one. Sorry. All of my children were born normally, like humans, even when they really weren’t so human at all.” Eichi smiles, mostly to himself, and settles back. “I do wonder…how this will turn out, in the end.”

 

The answer to that question doesn’t take long to come.

 

The next morning is cold and rainy, and delightfully, that ancestor of his has left his post, obviously convinced that Eichi doesn’t precisely have Leo’s death on his mind. He slips from the room without a sound, leaving Leo asleep in bed, and beelining it back towards the encampment.

 

Natsume, outside of Rei’s tent, is tight-lipped, and the front of his dress and Nightcloak is stained and bloody. Izumi, beside him, is pale-faced, sitting on an overturned crate and shivering—not from the cold, not with his nature. It’s Natsume who looks up first, and his eyes are slitted, gold and sharp as he moves to bar his entrance immediately.

 

“Where’s your master, demon?” he snaps, chin lifted to help alleviate some of their height difference. It doesn’t work. Eichi’s stomach rumbles.

 

“Sleeping. Can’t I even take a look?”

 

“He’s resting,” Izumi dully pipes up. “And because I know you can smell it, very weak. Give him some peace already.”

 

“No sound of the baby crying, how interesting,” Eichi murmurs, unfazed by the response. “Did it die?”

 

Natsume’s teeth bare—if Eichi squints, he can see little fangs, like he really is a dragon of sorts, how charming—but before he can utter another word, it’s Rei who rips the tent flap open, staring at him, his own cheeks hollow, dark circles underneath his eyes, fingers trembling around the tent’s canvas as he remains draped in a long nightshirt and his own Nightcloak, and little else.

 

“Oh,” Eichi says, smiling. “Hello. You look like shit.”

 

“Lord Rei—“

 

“Go rest elsewhere, Natsume.”

 

Natsume hesitates, and Rei gently presses a hand against his shoulder, urging him on. Izumi watches as well until Rei jerks his head, signaling him to leave as well, which is easier said than done, with the way that Eichi’s eyes follow him intently.

 

“So,” Eichi begins again, folding his arms and trying not to shiver in his own cloak. “Where—“

 

“You did this. On purpose.”

 

“Hmm?” Rei smells like blood. Like his own blood, how delightful, and delicious. It must have been traumatic, being cut apart to birth something so—unnatural. He might be drooling.

 

“Or perhaps you didn’t, and then it occurred to you afterwards? I don’t even know anymore.” Rei’s voice is low, and strained, and Eichi does like watching the heat of anger rise to his cheeks as he tries not to shout—not that he even can, with how weak he is. “But you drew Wataru there—you influenced this, somehow, and you _knew_ I couldn’t say no, not to something like this, not when I—“

 

“If you had been sweet years ago, we could’ve done this ourselves, you know,” Eichi interrupts, his own voice a low, rumbling purr as he steps forward, forcing Rei to step back into the tent, Eichi quick to follow and loom over him. He reaches out a hand, his nails long and black as that hand rests against Rei’s chest, then slowly starts to slide down. “ _That_ child would have been even stronger. And I only eat my young sometimes—oh, hello, Kaoru.”

 

“If you wanted me weak, you’ve done it,” Rei hisses back, frustration as much as nervousness marring his expression clearly now as he leans back, every bit of his posture on the defensive as he shoves Eichi’s hand away. “Now what? What do you want now? You can’t feed on me like this, if that was your plan—“

 

Eichi’s expression shifts towards boredom. “I could if I wanted to—“

 

“Not if I said _no_.”

 

“There are always ways to make you say _yes._ ” Eichi’s eyes slit briefly, pupils narrow and black, before returning back to normal. “I have no plans. I’m going north. Both of you as well, I assume? Or are you going…wherever you sent that child away instead? Did it die?”

 

“Make him leave, Kaoru,” Rei quietly says, taking another, wary step back, unwilling to turn his back on Eichi even for a second, even if it means moving more slowly in the process.

 

“The child isn’t any of your concern,” Kaoru says, his voice shaken, but quiet as he comes out to stand at the tent’s entrance. “Go rest, Rei. I’ll make sure no one disturbs you any further.”

 

The look on his face, from the lines around his eyes to the tight, drawn look of his mouth, from the lack of his usual humor to the wary, guarded way his eyes keep flicking around, shows a man who has finally got exactly what he’s been asking for, and hadn’t realized the obvious price until far, far too late.

 

Rei lingers a moment more, his eyes not leaving Eichi, clearly just as concerned about leaving Kaoru to deal with him.

 

“Yes, go on, run back to bed, the sun burns,” Eichi mildly says, fluttering a hand as his talons disappear and return to looking like normal, human nails in the next motion. “So it _didn’t_ die.”

 

“I can’t listen to you anymore,” Rei mutters, finally disappearing to bed as Kaoru had urged.

 

Kaoru gives Eichi a last, penetrating look, trying to pierce that inscrutable facade, before shaking his head, following Rei back inside the tent. “It’s for the best,” he says softly. He doesn’t try to make sure there are no listening spells. His magic comes from belief, after all, and his own is in short supply at the moment. “At least like this, you don’t have to worry when we go North.”

 

“Why are demons _like_ that?” Rei hisses, turning back towards the tent entrance with a hard stare, feeling Eichi lingering and shivering hard. As frustrated as much as he is on edge, the veil he tosses up around the tent is a warning more than an actual safety net, but hopefully it’s enough to deter those that would prod from prodding too deeply. Even that much magical usage makes him dizzy, and he sways before he sits down heavily on the cot and blanket pile serving as a bed. “He can die talking to his brethren. I’m not feeding him again.”

 

Kaoru kneels next to Rei, feeling as if he’s the one who’s been hollowed out, ripped apart from the inside. He raises a pale hand, stroking it gently over Rei’s hair, ignoring what he says. Things will change, or they won’t. His soul feels like there’s a bite taken out of it again, and has since he saw that bundle disappear in the arms of demons. “If you’re afraid for it, I can go,” he offers, not knowing what’s best, not even pretending to know anymore. “I can catch up, take…I can bring them all to my family’s estate in the Hinterlands. It’s not that far, and I could protect them.”

 

Rei shakes his head before leaning forward into Kaoru’s touch, long, mussed hair falling partially around them both. “No. Where they’re going, it’s safe. There couldn’t be a safer place, as far as I’m concerned, and it’ll also encourage Shu to…stay away. From all of this.” His expression shifts to a wry smile. “Not that I don’t trust you to do the same, but…I’m selfish, and I don’t want you to leave _me_.”

 

Kaoru turns his head, pressing a kiss to Rei’s temple. “I’m so mad that this happened _now_ ,” he says, drawing in a slow breath. “When we’ve been wanting it for a hundred years. And we don’t even get to enjoy it. That’s some real demon bullshit.”

 

“Fae bullshit, more like,” Rei mutters crossly, briefly shutting his eyes. The more he talks about it, the more he wants to simply chase after them, or call the twins _back_. It’s stupid, but instincts generally are. No, he needs to focus on the issue at hand, not something he deliberately removed from his control. “I think I’ve miscalculated about Wataru.”

 

“I told you a long time ago that I’m not going to be much help in making calculations about him in general,” Kaoru warns. “I don’t know nearly enough about his kind, I slept through a lot of those lessons. And if he’s switched loyalties—or switched back? Or never really switched?—then I’m not sure what good I can do against him, to be honest.”

 

“I don’t exactly have a track record of accuracy with him, either,” Rei mutters, slowly dragging over his bedding to prop himself up onto it, deciding he’d rather have a makeshift throne than a proper place to be flat. He reaches out a hand, tugging on Kaoru’s sleeve to coax him up next to him. “He’s betrayed me several times before, after all. I thought he’d yield less to Eichi’s encouragement and demands this time, because of Natsume. Unfortunately, I think he has just remembered the worst thing about Eichi—he thinks Eichi is _fun_.”

 

“So…we’ve been operating under the assumption that you have the power to refuse or grant Eichi a feeding,” Kaoru says slowly, following this train of thought. “But if Wataru has decided that the most fun thing is to be at his beck and call again…”

 

“It’s worthless to call him here and demand he behave himself,” Rei immediately concludes, raking a hand back through his hair. “Because he’ll cheerfully tell me, in a colorful fae way, to go fuck myself.”

 

“Why would he do that?” Kaoru asks, frowning. “Is there something you didn’t tell me about what happened? Because if I’m going to be wading into this, I really need to know what’s happening.”

 

“Aside from my punishing of Wataru after taking over the Academy by locking him in a tower and suppressing his magic for several months…” Rei shakes his head. “I actually couldn’t tell you if he resents me because of that or not, but before even that—Wataru drifted from my side to Eichi’s for the simple reason that…Eichi doesn’t…care about things. He doesn’t have the capacity. Wataru thinks humans are adorable, and therefore, my human blood charms him, but for functional loyalty, it’s…troublesome, because I question him when he wants to blow something up for shits and giggles. Given the chance to work with Eichi again, the thing he’s in love with and loves him back and encourages his chaotic nature? It’s…worrisome, to say the least.”

 

“But he loves you, too, right?” Kaoru presses. “You told me, you two sort of grew up together? Ah, there’s so much about the Fae the paladins don’t understand, because they mostly keep to themselves. Or because they eradicated them for the most part? I’m not actually sure. I know the records were purged at one point, because they said even believing in what they can do can summon them or make them more powerful or something.”

 

“That’s true. And Eichi believes in him more than anyone else, I think…which is why Wataruhas done everything he’s said for so, so long.” Rei glances down, fiddling with the furred hem of his cloak. “We grew up together, and we used to be close. But I started questioning him, and I stopped encouraging him to just follow whatever fanciful idea he had at the time. The Fae breeds—Airbred, Greenbred—we don’t like that. Who does, I know, but in Faekind, it’s considered to be a lack of loyalty and almost a declaration of…well, hatred is a strong word, but close to that. We resent it. Even I’m prone to it, even when I _know_ better. If Eichi strokes his ego and purrs into his ear and keeps his eyes trained upon him again…”

 

“You _do_ always turn on me if I ever question the slightest thing about you,” Kaoru says bluntly. “Okay, that makes sense. But why is this a concern, and not just a done deal, you know? Like, okay, you’ve kept Wataru on a leash for too long and Eichi is back and offering him everything he wants, but you don’t seem sure that he’s going to jump ship. Why?”

 

“…Natsume. He’s very possessive of that child, and always has been.”

 

“So?” Kaoru crosses his legs, shifting to stroke Rei’s hair better, rubbing his shoulders and neck. “If there’s one thing that being around you and Eichi has taught me, it’s that creatures that powerful like to own multiple humans.”

 

“Don’t compare me to him right now,” Rei whines, slumping a little underneath the words as much as the touch. “I’m feeling very delicate. That’s my Bloodbred half, anyway, not the weird Fae mess. Fae typically don’t collect and keep pets. At least, the ones I’ve known don’t…and Wataru has never bothered, before. I just wonder…if Eichi told him to ditch Natsume, if he actually would.”

 

“…I’m not a Fae or a demon,” Kaoru says softly, letting his hands work their magic as he’s learned to do for hundreds of years. “But even I know how it is…when there’s someone you really want to impress, and you put all of your effort into it…and then someone shows up who knows the real you, and you don’t have to hide anymore. But I don’t know Wataru half as well as you do, I admit.”

 

“He doesn’t have to try, with Eichi.” Rei’s words are quiet, the tension in his back slowly abating, even if he doesn’t quite _relax._ “Sometimes, not needing to filter what you say and do will make the entire world seem right again. Truthfully…while I’m unsure about this, I expect Wataru to drift back to Eichi. Natsume is my primary concern. Wataru still has him netted, so it’s difficult for me to reach out and take him back without causing a scene.”

 

“You want me to talk to him?” Kaoru asks, one eyebrow arched. “I mean, I think he’s delicious, but I can be a good boy. He’s so prickly, it’s hard not to tease him, but Kanata likes him, so he can’t be all bad.”

 

“You might get stung, too. Remember in the Hinterlands some time ago, when you tried to touch him?” Rei wryly says, lifting his head. “Frankly…I was going to try and seduce him somewhat unscrupulously, if not for that spell over him. He’s an Islander, with dragon’s blood in his veins. He _wants_ me to meld my leafy green body all over him.”

 

“Your leaves are rather enticing.”

 

“Aww. Thank you. You _do_ love me.”

 

Kaoru laughs, and shifts again, taking Rei in his arms. “I suppose I do. Stop distracting me, what are we supposed to do about this Wataru thing? If Eichi can feed whenever he wants, that’s taken away our last piece of leverage, aside from possibly threatening to assassinate the king.”

 

Rei snuggles closer, shivering as he seeks out the warmth of Kaoru’s body when he himself feels so cold and drained. He drapes his arms around him, hooking his chin atop Kaoru’s shoulder. “I’m afraid the king is already out of our reach,” he softly says. “But we can test that, later. As for Wataru…I hate it, but we might have to wait. If he _is_ falling back to Eichi, at least it takes one possibility away: that Eichi will be too weak to close the gate, and so we’ll be dealing with a monster we know, not several that could be somehow worse.”

 

“And if Eichi is somehow working _with_ the demons?” Kaoru asks softly. “If he’s helping them, and finally launching his final attack? Mind you, I don’t think it’s likely. In a thousand years of history, he’s never sided with demons against humans. Some groups of humans against others, sure, but he’s never just…thrown his lot into the Shadowlands. He’s too shrewd for that. But he could be playing them off each other, picking winners and condemning the others.”

 

“Yes, I’ve thought about that. And I hate it.” Rei shuts his eyes. “He’s going for a power play of some kind. Why else would he convince the king he’s on his leash, sweetly encourage Wataru to use his extra power to give _us_ a child that simultaneously weakens me and leaves us somewhat in their debt, and go back to telling Wataru how wonderful he is, all in the same day? Oh, and we can’t forget how he looks at Izumi like he’s the most delicious meal in the world. I see all of these things, but I’m at a loss, as to how to deal with them as a whole.”

 

“Rei.” Kaoru closes a hand around Rei’s, squeezing gently. “You haven’t told me yet. Was it a boy or a girl? Was it…you know, human enough? Is it really…mine? Mm, if you can’t tell me now, I understand, I just…” He trails off, the longing in his voice evident.

 

Rei hesitates, his fingers curling slowly back. “It’s absolutely yours,” he finally settles upon. “I mean—I certainly have collected enough of you over the years.”

 

“Is it…” Kaoru swallows, not liking the vague pronoun. “Healthy? I thought seed wasn’t good after a couple days?”

 

“Kaoru, I’m a sex wizard. I _know_ what I’m doing,” Rei sniffs, leaning back a bit to better look at his face. “Truthfully? I don’t know if it was a boy or a girl. Natsume will know. And Izumi would have said if it wasn’t healthy. I…didn’t want to linger, or I wouldn’t have let it be sent away to safety. But the child is more than half human…even if your kind would think that’s an abomination, _I_ think that’s good.”

 

“But the pregnancy was…so fast,” Kaoru says, almost grimacing. “How can that be good? It’s not like we grow babes in their mothers for months for no reason. Ahh, this is awful, I just want to run after those little foxes and steal my son back.”

 

“Ah, it’s a son now? All right. Demon Kings are kinder than Demon Queens,” Rei quips, expression amused. “Yes, it was fast, and very painful, and I dislike that. But I think that was just…Wataru’s image of ‘oh, pregnancy, so here’s someone very pregnant.’ Fae granting wishes are like that.”

 

“That’s why all the children’s stories about them have unhappy endings,” Kaoru says with a sigh. “I can’t talk about it any more or I really will go run after them. And you, my love, should sleep. We can deal with all of this as well in the morning when you’re less exhausted.”

 

“This one won’t have an unhappy ending. My twins are swift, and Shu will guard that child as if it’s his own, you know that,” Rei murmurs, nosing at Kaoru’s throat. “I’ll rest if I can have a drink, and if you promise to not waste your time guarding me, but instead, sweet-talking a pretty Islander.”

 

“I’m at your command, love. Neck, or thigh?”

 

“Neck, for once. Bending sounds awful, I’m sore in spite of Izumi’s skilled hands.”

 

“I had a feeling.” Kaoru eases his shirt to the side, baring his neck, shifting to get around to let Rei’s head onto his shoulder. “Any advice for dealing with Natsume, before I let you drink yourself to oblivion?” Not that Rei ever takes too much, not from him. He sort of _can’t_ , that’s the point of being with a paladin, or at least someone from their line.

 

“Praise his skill, not his beauty,” Rei offers before nuzzling at Kaoru’s neck, his hands closing loosely about Kaoru’s waist. His fingers squeeze, gentle and careful, before he bites, just as carefully, letting his fangs sink in to familiar flesh. The taste makes him dizzy, what with it being so rich, and so, _so_ human, and he only manages two swallows before he releases Kaoru with a hitching breath, his eyes fluttering. “And…ah….mm. Insult Eichi. Sounds easy, doesn’t it? Ah, you’re delicious.”

 

Kaoru leans down and gives Rei’s stained lips a soft brush of his own, then moves to lay him down, covering him with a blanket. “Lay here, love,” he cajoles softly. “Got it, he’s touchy and finicky and pathetically in love with someone occupying an enormous power mass. When you wake up, hopefully, he’ll be handled.”

 

With that, he sets off towards what there is of an Inn, trusting his instincts, which at least help him find a big concentration of magical power. There is certainly a weird boy-girl person with red hair, the barmaid tells him, but she can’t remember much else of the last night, not after the bird-man in the tree started playing butterflies.

 

Well, sure.

 

Kaoru knocks at the door she’d specified, only sort of hoping Wataru isn’t in. There are thanks in order, after all—even if Wataru’s not with them anymore, he’d never, ever thought he could have a child, not with the man he’s loved for centuries. Motives aside, that’s worth something.

 

The door creaks open, but the one who answers it isn’t Natsume, but instead, a somewhat paler-than-usual Izumi, long hair tied back from his face and one hand on the sword at his hip. His cloak and looser clothing doesn’t do much to hide the growing swell of his stomach, though he obviously likes to pretend it does. “Oh. Kaoru.” He relaxes visibly, sinking down into his heels. “Is everything all right with Rei?” _If you need more from me as a healer right now, I’m probably going to scream._

 

“Who is it?” comes Natsume’s irritable snap from further in the room, though it sounds more tired than angry, at this point.

 

“Kaoru. You know, Rei’s paladin.”

 

“I know who he _is_.” Natsume leans back in the chair he’s seated in, corset discarded to the floor next to him, a table full of cards and stones in front of him. “What do you want?”

 

“To talk, ideally,” Kaoru says cheerfully, walking into the room and tousling Izumi’s silver hair. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, no one needs your services. Ah, damn, I’m getting distracted, you smell damned good. Hi, Natsume. We haven’t met, but I’m Kaoru.”

 

“We’ve met.” Natsume’s attention immediately diverts back to his work, and he tosses his hair back over the back of his chair, draped with the heavy weight of his Nightcloak as well. “I’ve Seen you several times. And you tried to touch me, once, in the Hinterlands.”

 

“…I’m going to go find Arashi,” Izumi mutters, privy to enough ‘meetings’ by now to know when he isn’t needed, or wanted, and spares a last look after Kaoru before slipping from the room, letting it click shut behind himself (even as he lingers in the hall, rather than truly leaving).

 

Kaoru strolls slowly over to Natsume, tossing his hair back. “I know, I remember. You brought cute little Souma, a couple of real cute crossdressers. Anyway, sorry for how I behaved back then. The point is, I want to introduce myself as a…” For some reason, the word _paladin_ sticks on his tongue, unwilling to be voiced, and he makes a face. “Properly, anyway. As Rei’s husband. If we’re going to be traveling together, I thought we should meet when I’m, you know. Wearing pants.”

 

Natsume’s mouth purses, but he doesn’t react negatively beyond that—at least, outwardly. “Neither of you should go North,” he absently says, not looking up, but gesturing to a nearby chair for Kaoru to have a seat, if he must. “Not you or Lord Rei. But all right. You’ve been introduced, Lord Rei’s husband.”

 

“Is that prophecy?” Kaoru asks, flipping the chair around to straddle it, gazing at Natsume. “I heard you’re the best in the world at it. Ah, that makes me miss the Isles…”

 

That (and maybe the compliment, just a little) makes Natsume tilts his head, almost looking up from the splay of cards in front of him. “You’ve been?” he asks, curiosity getting the better of him. “Ah. I suppose if you traveled with Lord Rei, that makes sense.”

 

Kaoru laughs. “Rei hates going anywhere there’s sunlight. I went by myself—or more accurately, a gorgeous lady that I met took me there on her arm. I was there to pretend at mainland ports to be her husband, when in reality I was happy to be working for her. This was a long time ago, right before the last Island Dragon left. There was a ceremony they needed me for. Did you ever get to be part of the Scale Festival? They only do it once every twenty-five years, and you’re so young…”

 

“Lord Rei went there because of me, way back then,” is Natsume’s muttered response before he leans back a bit more in his chair, obviously bristling a bit. “No. I was barely a teenager when Lord Rei took me away, and hid me at _your_ estate. My mother is a high priestess, so I would’ve been.”

 

“Whoa, a high priestess?” Kaoru’s eyes widened, obviously impressed. “I couldn’t even get close enough to see them when I was there. Hey, if this all blows over, the next festival would be in a couple years, right? Year of the Maiden, if I get that right? I’ll take you back.”

 

“What do you want?” Natsume abruptly, bluntly asks, turning his chair to look directly at Kaoru. His eyes glitter bright gold, the odd, catlike pupils speaking as strongly to his island blood as the red of his hair. “You wouldn’t leave Lord Rei’s side if he didn’t tell you to right now.”

 

“Oh, information,” Kaoru says cheerfully, rocking forward in his chair. “On Wataru. See, he did something to Rei, and I want to know if he’s working against us all to run back to Eichi’s side. Apparently you’re the one to ask.”

 

Natsume blinks, the sharpness in his features dissolving for a moment to confusion and worry—but only for a moment, as he steels his face again and settles for irritation instead. “Of course he _did_ something. That something is being carried back to Lord Shu as we speak—don’t worry, this place is muffled, that gross lizard can’t hear anything,” he crossly says. “Anyway, Wataru wouldn’t go back to that _thing_.”

 

“You’re sure?” Kaoru asks, one blond eyebrow quirked. “You wouldn’t be blamed if he did, you know. Rei wouldn’t like you any less. And he likes you a lot, even if you’re all…sharp.”

 

“Everyone says that. What does that even _mean?_ ” Natsume snaps, folding his arms across his chest. “Mainlanders are too sensitive, I think.”

 

“It means you’d rather say whatever you want than preserve people’s feelings,” Kaoru says bluntly. “Just in case no one has told you. It means you hurt people’s feelings and make them feel like it’s their fault. Anyway, yeah, you’re sure Wataru wouldn’t go back? Even if he can feed?”

 

Natsume’s mouth snaps shut for a moment, and he sinks back into his chair, annoyed, but at least temporarily silenced—both by the explanation and following questions. The latter makes his brow furrow, and he shrugs, looking away, distractedly prodding at a large, blue stone on the table. “He…”

 

 _“I_ want _to feed on_ you _—until I’m so full that your essence runs through my veins and into my lungs—“_

 

Natsume absently rubs at his wrist, at the odd way they still feel cold, almost numb from where Wataru had touched him before.

 

_“But I’ll never be able to do that, even if—“_

 

“He’s…I…I don’t know.”

 

_“I had a purpose, and all the power I needed—I thought that might be what it’s like to have a family.”_

 

Natsume swallows hard, and abruptly turns his chair again, bending back forward over the table. “He clouds my Sight,” he suddenly admits, his hands curling against the edge of the table. “The previous Emperor does. He’s clouded it twice now, about Wataru specifically—once, even from the Depths. No one else…has ever done that. So I can’t answer your question, because I don’t Know.” His mouth twists, lower lip wobbling for a moment before he stops himself with a huff of breath. “I _hate_ this.”

 

“…I’m sorry,” Kaoru offers, scooting a little bit closer. “This sucks. He’s a bastard, and the worst part is probably that people forgive him for just about everything, because he’s powerful and they need him, so it’s like he never did anything bad. And not for nothing, I get it. When you aren’t demon enough for the demons, but you’ll never be normal enough for your own kind…it sucks.”

 

“…It doesn’t matter that no one likes me,” Natsume stiffly says, averting his eyes. “The other Nightcloaks do. But no one—not even them—no one _here_ listens to me except Lord Rei. The king scoffs at prophecy. Others take offense. Even Wataru…if I See something that shows him in an ill light, he…he just moves away from me.” His shoulders raise, tense and nervous. “There…was a dream I had, months ago.”

 

“A dream?” Kaoru cocks his head. “My people are good at interpreting dreams. Tell me about it.”

 

“It was when Wataru and I were out here, alone. Watching the gate, killing what came out.” Natsume fiddles with the hem of his cloak after pulling it forward, more securely about himself. “Every night, I’d place magical barriers around our tent, and…there was one night when I dreamed of the previous Emperor. I couldn’t tell you what of, exactly; he obscured it. I don’t know how, but he did, even from the depths, and when I woke, the stones of the barrier were split, my spellwork was gone, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that…” He swallows, fingers trembling as they briefly curl against one of the rocks on the table before he drops his hand again. “That I had dreamt of Wataru…betraying me. The feeling came to me, when he offered to redo the spellwork for me.”

 

“It could be false,” Kaoru says quietly. “It could be a trick from Eichi, meant to sow the seeds of doubt. If you want, I can check.” Can he? Even as he volunteers it, he feels his power flickering, wavering, as the possibilities of what he can accomplish as a paladin start to fade. No, no, he can’t let that happen, not now, not when Rei needs him more than ever.

 

_Surely, it’s the realm that needs you most? Surely, it’s all of humanity?_

 

“I can check,” he says again, more firmly. “If you let me look at your subconscious mind, I can check for any signs of demonic tampering.”

 

Natsume hesitates visibly, lifting his head to look at Kaoru again. This time, he’s openly wary and concerned, looking far more like a child than Nightcloak and the supposed Greatest Prophet The World Has Seen In Centuries. “My visions usually can’t be tampered with in such ways, but my own mind…I didn’t think of that,” he frets. “I…suppose it would be fine, if you did that. Ah, but…” A different expression entirely falls over his face—this one, far more embarrassed. “Wataru…he…um. Has some kind of spellwork on me. He’s protective of me when he shouldn’t be, I think, but it’s still there…”

 

“I know,” Kaoru assures him. “I was there when Rei tried to take a bite, remember? But as long as I’m not doing it with lusty intent, I don’t think it’ll kick me in the teeth. I don’t even have to touch you, if you don’t want me to. Just lie down. I promise not to look up your skirts.”

 

Natsume mulls that over for a moment more, worrying at his lower lip, then nods, climbing to his feet. “It’s stupid, if you ask me,” he mutters, collapsing back down into the bed, smoothing his skirts, and lying back. “What’s the point of a protection like that if you’re going to…never mind, men are all weak, useless creatures.”

 

“It’s true, we’re all just thinking with the most useless part of ourselves,” Kaoru agrees cheerfully. “Okay, do you know how to meditate, or put yourself in a trance? If not, I’ll lead you through it.”

 

Natsume stares up at him, almost as if he’s affronted by the question, before scarcely a long, deep breath later, his eyes roll back into his head, his body slack as it relaxes into the bed.

 

“Oh, wow, you’re really good at that,” Kaoru remarks, eyebrows raised as he scoots his chair closer. “Stay there for a minute, I need to get ready.”

 

It shouldn’t take more than a heartbeat. But there’s nothing about this Kaoru of the Hakaze Clan that screams _Paladin_ at the moment. He’s far too human, far too alive in his body, far too obsessed with minutiae, details of what will happen, to work any of his skills, even a simple Seeing. _I just like it when you swing a sword around,_ Rei had said, but is that true? Would he still be so sweet, so devoted, if Kaoru were nothing but a regular human, with a regular human lifespan?

 

It doesn’t matter. Because for now, at least, Kaoru can summon that goddamned power, as long as he breathes carefully, as long as he doesn’t give in. He breathes in, breathes out, and focuses on who, on _what_ , he is.

 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says softly, looking at the slender, almost too-young figure on the bed. Prophecy is really the worst gift—able to see, but probably unable to affect. Natsume’s whole being is strong, but weathered, battered, and chipped around the edges, as he’s been possessed, grabbed, twisted, and buffeted by powers he could hardly hope to understand, much less control. Like this, he looks younger than he is, and Kaoru has to forcibly stop himself from trying to soothe away some of those aches, some of the marks of ownership laced more tightly around him than any corset.

 

Some time later, Kaoru withdraws, and tosses a coin to land on Natsume’s belly to break his trance. “Not sure if this is good news or bad news, but no one messed with your mind, little cat.”

 

Natsume jumps as if he’s been bitten by a snake, bolting abruptly upright, only to relax with a deep breath a moment later, eyes fluttering as he comes back to himself. “…Good, I don’t want anyone in there,” he mutters, pushing handfuls of his hair back from his face, revealing more of the white streaks beneath the red, where the color has simply been burnt out from almost constant magic usage. “But bad…because that means he _did_ deliberately step into a vision and obscure it.” He chews slowly on his lower lip, looking up at Kaoru, face worried. “He’s…very strong, isn’t he. I knew that, but…stronger, than I knew.”

 

“But you aren’t sure,” Kaoru reminds him, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees. “You just know that you had the feeling you had that dream. How sure are you that it really happened, and that the dream was a prophetic one? And…mmm, not to put too fine a point on it, but could that prophecy have been about him feeding on someone last night?”

 

“ _All_ of my dreams are prophecies; whether or not they’re major ones or not.” Natsume slowly curls up, drawing a knee to his chest and smoothing his long skirts down over it. He sets his chin atop it, slowly giving into the urge to look more and more exhausted by the moment. “If it was about that, the dream wouldn’t still bother me. It would be…done.”

 

Kaoru reaches out, and tests a theory, resting one of his hands on Natsume’s cheek. Nope, no weird angry spark. It really is just sex, then, or only applies to demons. “You need some good, non-prophetic sleep,” he decides. “Want me to put it on you? It’s one of the few things I can do that looks like magic, but my way is better, because it’s dreamless and peaceful.”

 

Natsume starts at the touch, so focused on other thoughts that he didn’t even notice Kaoru’s hand until it actually was placed on his skin. He flushes at his own reaction, and then shakes his head, swallowing. “No. I don’t want to miss anything. If I do, and it’s important, I could never forgive myself.”

 

“You know no one is going to blame you for what happens, right?” Kaoru asks gently. Damn him, this kid kind of reminds him of one of his own kids, that had grown up and passed away long ago. This is the kind of young person that’s dangerous to him, because it makes him realize just how important the Paladins are, keeping people like this safe from being ripped apart just because they’re tasty. “None of it is your fault, no matter what you can see.”

 

“Wrong,” Natsume mutters, turning his head. “Plenty of people blame prophets. That’s sort of a tradition for mainlanders. And you’re also wrong that nothing is my fault. It is my fault if I don’t warn people when I could have.”

 

“But you did warn us all, didn’t you?” Kaoru asks, stroking the boy’s hair, not letting him pull away into himself, not letting him retreat into sadness. “You’ve been trying to, and no one’s been listening. You hate him more than anyone, don’t you? It’s okay. You guys used to live in my house, you know. Servants talk, I hear things.”

 

“…He said once that when he killed Lord Rei, he’d put me in a cage and feed me just in enough that I could keep handing him prophecies day in and day out.” Natsume’s eyes slit as they slide back towards Kaoru. “I bloomed when I was still in the Isles, and Lord Rei had to seal my magic for years to hide me. He killed—“ He swallows hard, fingers curling into his skirts. “Never mind.”

 

“He killed a friend of mine,” Kaoru says softly, letting his hand drop. “Someone I wasn’t as close to as you were to that guy, but someone who was a friend of mine. And other people that I’ve liked, though he’s never killed anyone I loved, not personally. Not that I know of. And the worst part is, you know he’d do worse if he thought he could get away with it.” Kaoru shrugs, and sits back with a grimace. “I don’t know what to make of it, you know. Part of me thinks, sure, it’s worked for a thousand years, let’s keep going like this. But there’s a part of me…that really, really feels like this is some kind of endgame for him. Not to scare you, kid.”

 

“I’m not _scared_. But that’s why I won’t let you sleep me, either. Not when he’s still here.”

 

Natsume sucks in a steadying breath, and forces himself to lift his chin, staring straight back at Kaoru through the mussed fall of his white-streaked bangs. “When he killed Tsumugi, I thought I’d die myself,” he flatly confesses. “It would’ve been easier. I Saw it, you know—I saw that he’d kill Tsumugi, and I saw how happy he was to do it. That’s when I realized there wasn’t anything I could ever do to stop things like that from happening, except kill the monsters that did terrible things like that before they could even start. But…” His brow furrows in frustration. “The thing he is won’t die. And even if he did…the king won’t listen. It’s not the same, making bargains with halflings. Mommy—ugh. I mean. My mother—she would never make pacts with full-blooded creatures.” He shivers unhappily. “She’d be furious with me, about…about Wataru.”

 

“You’re a disappointment to your family for making a pact with a terrifying demon? You must tell me what that’s like, sometime,” Kaoru says, with a lopsided grin. “Mind you, I was busy being a disappointment long before I married Rei.”

 

“…I don’t even have a pact-pact. I’m just his lover, which is worse, in a number of ways.” Natsume’s lips part, and he finally, quietly says, “I’ve tried, to…to make him more human. He fakes it, to please me. I try to brush it off and pretend it doesn’t bother me, but it does.”

 

“I don’t think it’s worse, to be in love,” Kaoru says, and pats Natsume’s knee. “That’s what makes us human. They don’t love like we do, but they try so _hard_. Maybe the best thing you can do is keep being someone he wants to be human for. Don’t discount that.”

 

“I’d feel better about that sentiment if…this wasn’t the second time. Ah, that requires more explanation,” Natsume mutters, tired and irritated. “Tsumugi, I mean. He told everyone he was human. He wasn’t. I don’t know what he was, but he wasn’t. I don’t think anyone knew, but I can feel the difference now. He was playing at it, like…like a changeling, or something. But not that. So…I felt like I had to coach him on how to be human, too. I don’t think I’m very good at it.”

 

“…Huh. How did you tell the difference?” Kaoru asks, more interested than he wants to be about the technical side of it. “He was around some really powerful players, and as far as I know, none of them ever…even I never sensed that. Are you sure?”

 

“Yes. I’m sure. I…” Natsume hesitates, suddenly and obviously nervous. “I know I shouldn’t have, but after visiting the Shadowlands, years ago—well, have you ever been to Lord Rei’s estate there? The number of books Ritsu has on the blood and shadow arts…I _might_ have stolen a few, to take back with me. I realized, belatedly, that some of them…well, some of the arts in them, it was the sort of thing Tsumugi used to practice—the kind of undoing, nullification, and binding techniques that a creature does, not a human. I didn’t know any better back then, and I was sealed, so I assumed as a Nooncloak, it was just…what he could do. That, and the wizards I had seen work the most magic were Lord Rei, and Wataru.”

 

Kaoru curses quietly, running through all the things he knows about that kind of magic. “Damn, I wouldn’t have noticed that at all. He always seemed kind of…hard to pin down, you know? Like he just wasn’t _all there?_ Not in a mean way, just…presence-wise. Or maybe I’m making it up now so I can pretend I knew it, too.”

 

“Mm…” Natsume shrugs a shoulder. “I didn’t want to mention it, but I’m cross about not only being the lover of two of the previous Emperor’s rejects, but both non-human useless man-creatures that don’t understand how to react when slapped,” he mutters, folding his arms unhappily. “I don’t like it when I notice things my elders don’t, either. It’s not fun, being the youngest one around here. Anyway, I think that gross Emperor knew, even if Lord Rei didn’t. He made a fake bond with him, he had to have known.”

 

“Believe it or not, all this nonsense is why I’ve stayed well out of world politics for a long time,” Kaoru says with a sigh. “It’s a lot, and everyone I love always gets hurt. I’d much rather spent twenty years lost on an island when our boat sinks because Rei had to explore some rare kind of cave and the Deeplings—er, that’s the Wavebred—noticed me and tried to sink us.”

 

Natsume pauses and cocks his head, staring almost straight through Kaoru. “You’re not terribly holy right now,” he says, not unkindly. “And…I’m not sure if you should stay that way or not.”

 

Kaoru’s laugh is a little bit nervous, a little bit rueful. “I’m coming up on the Choice, I think. I’m around that age. I haven’t really told Rei. Don’t suppose you can tell me what I should do? Does it work like that?”

 

“I can read your fortune. I might have a dream about you, then.” Natsume makes a face. “Just make sure you don’t go to any of those sketchy fortune tellers around here, they’re all snake oil sellers.”

 

“You need my palm? Or bones, or blood or something?” Kaoru asks, intrigued. “I’ve never trusted any fortune telling that doesn’t come from the Isles. And I’m too nervous to go to a dragon.”

 

“Full-blooded dragons won’t tell you anything about yourself,” Natsume firmly tells him, leaning forward with an outstretched hand. “They just tell you what they want. I just need your hand, blood sacrifices are for demons.”

 

“Left, or right? I’m right-handed, if that makes a difference.”

 

“Let’s start with the right, and if it doesn’t tell you what you want to hear, we can try the left.” Natsume’s mouth quirks at the corner. “I’m joking…sort of.”

 

“Ehhh, I thought one told you the past, and the other the future,” Kaoru protests, but obediently hands over his right hand, palm-up. “Sorry, I’ll stop whining to cover up the fact that I’m nervous.”

 

“That’s an old wives’ tale. I expect more from Lord Rei’s husband, at least,” Natsume scolds, even as he delicately takes Kaoru’s hand in his own, smoothing his thumb over his palm. “The child was a boy, by the way,” he murmurs as his eyes unfocus, glowing gold. “If you were wondering about such things.”

 

Kaoru’s hand twitches, and he makes a weird little noise in his throat. “Oh. Th…thank you.” He swallows hard around a lump, and forces a smile. “Don’t say anything about him if you want me to ask about anything else.” _Like if he’s healthy, if he’ll be happy, if he’ll know who he is and find love and oh god, I’ve got to make the world better for him._

 

“Stop thinking about it for a moment, I can Hear you.”

 

“I think it’s weirder that I can hear the random letters you capitalize, but you don’t hear me complaining about it. Sorry, sorry, I’ll try.”

 

Natsume gives him an irritated look—impressive, when he doesn’t so much as see Kaoru’s face any longer, but instead the strings and lines of his life inside and out of him. His thumbnail traces over each line in Kaoru’s palm without him looking down to see it, slow and methodical. “…If you go North,” he says after a long, heavy pause, his eyes still glowing slits, “using your power is a mistake. You’ll be a target, not a protector.”

 

Kaoru sucks in a breath. It’s not what he’d wanted to hear, but he hadn’t really expected to hear anything _good_ , not right now. “And if I don’t go North? If I go to wherever my son is, and try to take my family to safety?”

 

“…Define family. Lord Rei will go North, regardless.”

 

“Oh, that is so typical. Regardless of my feelings, you mean.”

 

Natsume glances up. “I can’t tell you why. That’s not what I do. I can only tell you the ‘what’ of things.”

 

Kaoru scowls. “That’s not what I’m—never mind. So, you said if I head North and embrace my power, it’ll make me a target. But what would that mean for the rest of them? If I die and everyone I love lives, that’s not a bad outcome.”

 

“I didn’t say you would die. I said you would be a target; the death part is undefined. ‘Them’ is also broad,” Natsume says, his head cocking. “And unclear. And I haven’t read any others’ fortunes, only pieced together visions. Someone will die before reaching the North. But…not you, and not Lord Rei. The archdemon in the North has a blade you know.”

 

Natsume pauses, cutting himself off and blinking a few times, the light flickering in his gaze. “Sorry. That’s less a Telling, more a Seeing. They mix, sometimes.”

 

_A blade you know._

 

The chill that runs through Kaoru isn’t physical, but it is as potent as anything he’s felt in the North. He swallows, nodding slowly, then retracts his right hand, offering his left. “Any better news over here?”

 

Natsume obliges, taking that hand and tracing each line as methodically as the last, this time with his opposite hand that sports a few fingernails with blood caked beneath them. “Still no death flags,” he idly says. “If that soothes you. This hand is holier, you touch demons less with it. And so is your right…thigh…?” Natsume spares a glance down, following that string that he sees, then up again, shaking off the flush that rises to his cheeks. “Right. If you go North, you’ll truly choose your king.”

 

“This is why people don’t like prophets,” Kaoru grumbles. “What’s that supposed to mean? Like, my personal ruler? Or something political?”

 

“I don’t know. What, do you want me to sound like every other fortune teller? Ahh, yes, your life line, it’s veeery long, and your love line is so strong, you must be a passionate lover—“

 

“At least then I’d _know_ you’re hitting on me,” Kaoru says blithely. “But seriously, is there a connotation to that king thing?”

 

“I—what? I’m not hitting on you,” Natsume hurriedly says, his face pinker by the moment as he drops Kaoru’s hand as if he’s been burned. “I’m not. I—right, the king thing. It could be political. It didn’t seemed based around your belief. I Asked, nothing spoke about that.”

 

Kaoru is absolutely certain he does not want to ask about what could be speaking to Natsume about his future. “But I serve the king. So…is this a sex thing? Or a loyalty thing? Or does it mean I’m going to be in charge of some big decision for other people? Whatever’s speaking to you, it would be good if they could be less vague. More helpful.”

 

“Fortune telling is vague, that’s sort of the problem with it,” Natsume mutters, rubbing a hand across his eyes to refocus. “I can do a proper reading on you, if you want, but better is just to wait for me to dream and see what happens. I _will_ tell you—the more magical you are, the easier it is. That’s probably why it’s so vague right now; you’re a little…”

 

“Yeah. It’s not magic. I’m just weird,” Kaoru says with a sigh, and he pulls his hand back. “It’s fine, you did your best. I’ve lived this long without knowing the future, after all.”

 

“I usually don’t like knowing,” Natsume says honestly. “I avoid reading the people I like, unless they ask me to. Lord Rei never asks, I’m glad.”

 

“Can you imagine what his reading would be?” Kaoru jokes. “Today, sex. Tomorrow, sex. The day after that, wow, look, you’ll be having sex.”

 

Natsume opens his mouth, then shuts it again, looking _decidedly_ flustered. “I—um. Well. I s-suppose you’d know all about that already.”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Kaoru says with a grin. “But you wouldn’t, right? Because Wataru’s got you on that tight rein. Is it hot, that he wants to put a stamp on you that way?”

 

“I didn’t think paladins were this blunt about personal matters!”

 

“Do I have to tell you again I’m a really shitty Paladin? Hey, you didn’t give me a good answer about my Choice. Should I tell Rei about it?”

 

Natsume, his cheeks nearly as dark as his hair, huffs loudly as he sits back, smoothing his skirts distractedly. “Nothing was Said about it,” he says. “But…I have found with Lord Rei, it’s best to be honest with him, even if he can’t always be honest with you.”

 

“And isn’t that a stupid double standard?” Kaoru asks mildly, running a hand back through his hair. “Well. I’ve probably overstayed my welcome, aren’t you eager to get me out of your hair?”

 

“…There’s a difference between ‘can’t’ always be honest and ‘won’t’ always be honest, I’ve found,” Natsume quietly says. “And I think if you didn’t know that, you wouldn’t be his husband.” He fidgets, shrugging. “You don’t have to leave. You’re…fine, as far as men go. And I’ve been left to my own devices since the previous Emperor returned.”

 

Kaoru watches Natsume for a moment, then gets off the chair, flopping down next to Natsume on the bed. “Fine, but I don’t need any more wooden furniture. Is it going to make you nervous if I sharpen my sword? If the blade I’m thinking of is up North…and I can’t use my power…Well, best to have a sharp sword.”

 

“I usually have three or five daggers on my person at any given time, swords don’t scare me,” Natsume sniffs, even if he fumbles a bit at the sudden closeness and familiarity. He shifts off the bed for a moment, striding over to the table he was using before, scooping up all of his tarot cards, and then flopping back into bed in a heap of skirts and cloak. “It’s fine if you’re going to be here,” he says, as if he hadn’t invited Kaoru to stay. “But you’ll have to accept that I will randomly have bursts of Sight, especially if you talk about pertinent things. Like what you just said. Make sure you feed Lord Rei well, if you’re going North. I don’t know the archdemon there, but I know of it.”

 

“I think I can tolerate you,” Kaoru says cheerfully, and musses Natsume’s hair, then pulls out his sword and sharpening stone, carefully working the metal to gleaming. “I’ll just keep saying random stuff and you let me know if you get any hits. This archdemon up in the North, yeah? I’m assuming there’s more than one of them. Hiyori seems to know them.”

 

“Don’t say his name, it gives him power,” Natsume mutters, reaching up to half-heartedly fix his hair before twisting it up into a bun on the back of his neck. “I call him the Stupid One. Anyway. One archdemon. One drude. The archdemon is the Stupid One’s mate—in the bonded sense. I can See the string of his bond from here.”

 

“You know, when I was growing up, I always heard that bonds were soooooo rare,” Kaoru says with a huff. “Now it seems like everyone and their dog has one.”

 

“They are rare. We just know powerful people…which are the kinds of people usually capable of forming them.” Natsume doesn’t look up from his task of setting cards out again. “I don’t know if archdemon bonds are the same, though.”

 

“This one is really dangerous, right?” Kaoru asks. “You think he’s ever been here before? I can stop at one of our hidden libraries as we head North, get some info.”

 

“He or one of his relatives has to have been here before, if he has that sword,” Natsume absently concludes after a moment. “Maybe the previous Emperor knows. This one won’t reveal his name to me.”

 

“The blade…” Kaoru tries to stop the shiver, but it’s strong this time, and he grits his teeth. “There are only a couple of options of what that could be.”

 

“A relative of yours. Or is that _too_ -too vague—are all paladins really related? Someone told me that, once.”

 

“We’re really related,” Kaoru confirms, and feels the pit of his stomach sink. “You know, way back when the clans were all one clan, and they didn’t let politics get in the way of demon hunting. Ugh, that does kind of answer the question, though. It was either Sorrow’s Heart, or it was the Heavensword, and the Heavensword isn’t related to my family. Damn. That’s…pretty bad news.”

 

“…I’m starting to think I should stop giving tidbits, before it depresses you too much.”

 

“I know I’ve asked this a lot,” Kaoru says slowly, “but how sure are you about any of this stuff? Like, how much of it is a guess, how much can be changed?”

 

“How sure are you that Lord Rei is the Demon King?” Natsume mildly asks without glancing up, slowly flipping a card over. “And how sure are you that your hair is yellow?”

 

“That’s one way to look at it,” Kaoru counters, “but you’re talking about the future. How sure I am that my hair is yellow today is one thing, how sure I am that my hair is going to be yellow in ten years? I don’t know. I’ve dyed it before, cut it off before.”

 

“My prophecies have never been wrong. I assume they’re right, even if they’re awful, because they’ve never been wrong, and the more I try to change them, the faster they move.” It’s said tiredly, almost resignedly. “That’s what I mean, for better or for worse. I don’t want to disappoint you, but…that’s how it has been, for as long as I’ve bloomed.”

 

Kaoru lets out a low whistle through his teeth. “That sounds awful. Sorry about it. But hey, at least you get to keep illustrious company, eh? Are you planning to come North, too?” Because as long as Rei is, he is. Rei needs him. There’s a little boy that needs him, too, but… _Fuck, I need to talk to Rei about the Choice._ Maybe two hundred years is a little long to put that off.

 

“You’re loud,” Natsume mutters, flipping another card. “I was planning on coming North, yes. My binding spell techniques still seem to work on the previous Emperor, and I think that’s good. It’s the dragon’s blood. Your child is seventy five percent human, you know. He probably wouldn’t register as a demon at all, to most.”

 

“By the way,” Kaoru asks, changing subjects quickly when he remembers, “have you given any readings with your own blood recently?”

 

“Mmm…apparently, you aren’t a ‘real fortune teller’ in the West unless you draw blood. I did, a few times, because I dislike being told I’m a witch or a slut when I don’t, as if the two are even _remotely_ related or even negative, most of the time. Backwards country, this place. I hate it.”

 

Kaoru sighs. “Damn. Then I’m not just crazy. Ah, well, it’s a wild card, but not quite as bad as bad could be…tell me something nice that’s going to happen, all I’m seeing is darkness. My son…tell me about my son. This one, with Rei.”

 

“He’s golden-haired, like you. And will bloom like a Greenbred, if you decide you want to live to see it. Ooh, that’s ugly, go away,” Natsume adds underneath his breath, flipping a card back over grumpily. “He’s not a Cambion like Lord Rei, if you were worried about that. He cried when he was born and was not thrilled about being carried away into the cold.”

 

Embarrassingly, Kaoru feels tears prick his eyes, and he rubs them away hurriedly, dashing them on the back of his palm. “Ah, wow, hmm. Sorry about that, I don’t know…” But he does, and who is he pretending for, anyway? Gently, he nudges Natsume’s shoulder with his own. “Thanks, kid. That helps. But what did you mean about deciding to live?”

 

“If you don’t do something stupid like try and die, obviously,” Natsume huffs, looking awkwardly away. “I’ve heard that paladins were fatalistic, but it’s unnecessarily stressful. Lord Rei must hate it. Tell me about this wild card you mentioned, my cards did weird things when you said it.”

 

“Oh, I have a suspicion that Eichi had Leo do a Land-Taking,” Kaoru says, watching Natsume’s eyes on his cards. “Mixing the earth of his kingdom with the blood of every tribe, then ingesting it, making him invincible to physical or magical attacks until his true heir comes of age. Sound familiar?”

 

Natsume pauses, his fingers hovering for a moment before curling back into his palm. “He would have been planning that for some time.”

 

“He’s very old,” Kaoru says quietly. “It’s possible he just…waited. He’s an opportunist, you know? Maybe he noticed the races were sort of assembling and just took his chance.”

 

Natsume shuts his eyes as a mix of irritation, anger, and anger at _himself_ slowly wells up. “There’s no chance there’s another Skybred around here, is there.”

 

“I mean, unless you count the dragon. But you can’t, because it doesn’t work with purebloods, it has to be…hey, listen, he got me, too,” he admits, squeezing Natsume’s shoulder. “And I _knew_ about the spell.”

 

“…First of all, what dragon. Second of all…that does explain the scarring.” A thing that no one else could possibly see, unless they, do, could see the odd strings of someone’s soul pulsing about like he can. “Third of all, if he did that, why haven’t we tested it, and fourth of all, why haven’t we _killed him._ Or at least, locked him up and thrown away the key while he’s still weak and floundering.”

 

“This is just a theory I came up with like, last night,” Kaoru explains hastily. “Even Rei had never heard of it before, it’s a really obscure ritual from centuries ago. And as to why we haven’t done what we can…” Kaoru shrugs. “I don’t know. Lots of reasons, for lots of different people, I’d guess. Some people are going to say it’s because he’s done a lot of good for the realm, and deserves a chance to prove himself. Others are going to say he never actually committed a crime—hush, I know what he’s done is wrong, that doesn’t make it a crime. And some people are going to say that he’s more useful than dangerous, because no one else can close the Northern Gate.”

 

“Lord Rei wanted him gone.” Natsume huffs out a frustrated breath. “You and him…you’re the only ones that seem to listen, when I point out how bad he is, and how we should get rid of him. Or lock him up, whichever.”

 

The conversation is going nowhere, and Kaoru tousles Natsume’s hair again. “Maybe we’re the only smart ones, huh? Believe me this much, at least. You’re not going to be the only one watching, waiting for him to show his true nature. Also, I’m not sure how you missed the dragon?”

 

“Dragons are very good at hiding. Everyone missed _me_ for years,” Natsume points out with a sniff, scowling as his hair comes down from the bun he’d half-heartedly stuffed it into. “Quit it. Anyway, shouldn’t we _test_ the theory? I can try to stab the king, I’m outside of his jurisdiction.”

 

“Don’t stab the king, what if I’m wrong?”

 

“Then Izumi can fix him.”

 

“I’m still going to say this isn’t a good time for king stabbings? Izumi wouldn’t be very happy with you giving him more work.” Kaoru grins. “Want to meet a dragon, though?”

 

“Izumi needs to practice more,” Natsume says logically, and eyes Kaoru, as if he doesn’t _truly_ believe him. “…I want to meet a dragon,” he slowly says, but I’m not doing it dressed like a mess. So you’re going to give me a minute.”

 

“You get a minute anyway, because there are only a few people I know that know how to summon him,” Kaoru says, grinning. “Your choices are the King or his Captain of the Kingsguard, or Rei, but I’m asking you not to use Rei tonight.”

 

Natsume slides out of bed, then pauses in the process of unlacing his bodice, shooting Kaoru a put out look over his shoulder. “If you don’t want me to ask Lord Rei—and I wouldn’t, what do you take me for?— _you_ can ask them to do it, because the king is fickle about me and that Person Mika Likes is a brute.”

 

“If you’re going to be antisocial, forget it.” Kaoru shrugs. “I’ve met him, I don’t care.”

 

“I’m not being antisocial. I just don’t want to ask either of them for anything when they already don’t care for me.”

 

“Okay, then you don’t get to meet the dragon,” Kaoru says, nonplussed. “Don’t act like you’re doing me a huge favor, I’d just as soon sharpen my sword. He’s weird.”

 

“ _I_ could probably summon him, I don’t need the help of non-wizards,” Natsume sniffs, tossing his clothes over the back of a chair and working on the lacings of something far cleaner, and nicer. “Do you think he’s too big to be summoned to this room?”

 

“Depends what form he’s in,” Kaoru says, but can’t help but be intrigued. “And how much you hate your downstairs neighbors, I’ve noticed that no matter what shape he’s in, he seems to have the same weight all the time, sometimes the ground cracks when he walks. That might just be for effect, though?”

 

“Hmm. Fascinating.” Natsume shrugs his corset back into place. “Maybe I should do it outside, then…I think some of our traveling companions might be drinking downstairs…can you come tighten this, Lord Paladin, or would you just as soon sharpen your sword?”

 

“I—“ Kaoru blinks, then laughs, and stands to grip the proffered laces. “You make that sound dirty on purpose, or was that just a happy accident?”

 

Natsume blinks back at him over his shoulder as he pulls his hair up and out of the way. “Dirty? How?”

 

“You…didn’t mean it in a dirty way?” Kaoru asks, then gives Natsume a grin and a wink. “You’ll figure it out when you’re older, then. Breathe in, then out. How tight do you go? I haven’t seen many women wearing these for a few years, are they back in fashion?”

 

“Lord Shu says they’re always in fashion,” Natsume flippantly says, straightening his shoulders as he stares straight forward, trying not to let Kaoru see his blush. “Tight. Tighter than you’d think. I’m plenty old, also!”

 

“Brace yourself, then, Grandma,” Kaoru says cheerfully, and yanks.

 

True to his word, Natsume barely flinches, his sharp inhale helping to draw the corset in tightly as he braces one hand against the back of his chair. “One more, that’ll do it,” he says, waist already decidedly miniscule. “Wataru yanks harder, but you’re pretty good at it, thanks.”

 

Kaoru yanks again, feeling the laces dig into the skin of his hands, and ties it off skillfully, with a kind of knot that had been popular among ladies of the courts quite some time ago. “Not bad for a human, eh?”

 

Natsume straightens up with a careful exhale, releasing the hold on his hair to let it slide oddly pin-straight down his back (definitely a result of magic as well, considering the curls he used to possess). “Mm. Not bad.” He hesitates, something clearly on the tip of his tongue as he smoothes the rest of his clothing while mulling it over. “It’s…different,” he mutters, “having human company…for the first time in awhile. For longer than just a minute or something, I mean…”

 

“I know what you mean,” Kaoru says, stroking a hand over Natsume’s hair again. “I get swept up in that world, in his pace, kind of a lot. Not just Rei, but another one, a Wavebred, they just…they run right over you and don’t even know it.”

 

“Lord Kanata, right?” Natsume turns around to look up at him, not avoiding the touch to his hair this time. “He talks about you. He wants to eat you,” he says, as if this is a fairly normal thing.

 

“Ehehe, he said that?” Kaoru asks, for all the world as if Natsume had said Kanata was plucking petals off of flowers awaiting his return. “Aw, he’s thinking of me.”

 

“…” Natsume heaves a sigh, his shoulders sagging a bit. “You even…Get it. When they say things like that…”

 

“I’ve spent most of my life being snacked on,” Kaoru says, patting Natsume’s shoulder, then squeezing it. “That’s why there are paladins, you know. Because as humans, we need someone to protect us, because given the chance, we’ll run to the demons with open arms. They really are the perfect predators, you know?”

 

“Is that why I want him to eat me?” Natsume quietly asks, rubbing at his still oddly numb wrists. “Because he’s convinced me I do? He always tells me…he won’t feed on me, because he couldn’t stop, but if he’s suffering from it…”

 

“You’re misunderstanding me,” Kaoru says, eyes flicking down to look at Natsume’s wrists, noting the telltale lashmarks on his soul there. He reaches down, and accesses that white power, just a bit, just enough to ease the aching numbness. “What makes them so dangerous is that they’re just like us. They’re _meant_ to be. Like us, but better—have you ever seen a really powerful demon that was ugly?—and we can’t help falling for them. That’s what so scary. Because you’d never let someone you didn’t love eat you, even a little. And they can’t feed, most of them, without willing food. It doesn’t mean they’re doing it on purpose, any more than dogs look cute on purpose so humans will give them scraps.”

 

“…that doesn’t answer the question of what I’m supposed to _do_ if he’s hungry—starving—and I can’t do anything about it.” Natsume flexes one wrist without looking up, almost as if he’s examining the change. “Except…let him go to the one person who can feed him. Which I hate.”

 

“Or you can ignore it.” Kaoru brushes his fingertips under Natsume’s chin, tilting his face up. “He lived for a long, long, long time before he met you, little cat. He won’t starve so easy. If he’s with you even though it’s making him hungry, it’s because he wants to be. Just because it’s his nature doesn’t mean he can’t be better than it.”

 

Natsume trembles before he can stop himself, his lower lip wobbling. “But when he looks at Eichi,” he whispers, unable to stop himself from saying that name, for once, “I can tell he doesn’t want to be better than it anymore.”

 

Kaoru tries not to remember how Rei had looked after feeding on Eichi for the first time, all those years ago, finally full and sated to bursting after decades of what Kaoru had only then learned was near-starvation. He tries. He fails. “Yeah,” he finally says. “Can you live with that? You will have to choose, eventually, whether you want him to be hungry and virtuous or fed and wandering. I chose the latter, but I’m selfish like that, heh.”

 

“…If it were anyone other than him.” Natsume’s chest heaves. “But it’s the one person I hate more than anyone, so if it has to be him, I…no.”

 

“Does it have to be him?” Kaoru asks, surprised. “Will Rei not work? He’s usually great at feeding demons.”

 

“Wataru hasn’t looked elsewhere except for the previous Emperor since…since we were…together. If it were Lord Rei…” Natsume shrugs, suddenly flushed. “T-that’s…fine. But I don’t think they get along very well anymore…”

 

“They might, after last night.” Kaoru’s eyes trace over Natsume, and he shrugs a shoulder. “Once he’s feeling better, I’ll ask if he’s up to a threesome, if that’ll make you feel better. Or a foursome, even.”

 

Natsume fumbles for a response to that, his cheeks pinker still. “I-I’m going to go summon a dragon!” he hurriedly insists, snatching up an extremely heavy, old-looking book from his bedside and yanking open the window. “That’s enough of talking about that, thank you!”

 

“Why didn’t you ever summon a dragon before?” Kaoru asks, absolutely unconcerned with the way Natsume flutters. “If you’re so good at it, and I know he’s been around.”

 

“Why would I want to summon a _dragon?_ I’m not an idiot. I’m only doing it now because you suggested it, and you’re…sort of a paladin, so it seems marginally safer.”

 

“I only suggested it because you seemed sad you hadn’t met one! You’re from the Isles, it seems weird that you never have and I have. You read my future, you know I’m not a good paladin!”

 

 

“They’re like _gods_ ,” Natsume hisses, straddling the windowsill as he flips through the book in rapid succession. “Meeting one is unheard of in the Isles—at least, these days! Also, I never said you were a bad paladin when I read your future, did I?” 

 

 

“You don’t exactly have to, there’s nothing I do that’s good!”

 

 

“You take care of Lord Rei quite a bit,” Natsume points out, leaning over to suddenly pull out a dagger from underneath his skirts. “He’s the Demon King, but he’s also one-fourth human, so that has to count for some kind of paladin business, if you squint.”

 

 

“But you’re putting a positive spin on it that actual paladins never, ever would.” Kaoru eyes the dagger, but doesn’t otherwise move. There’s a mad instinct, for a moment, to ask the kid… _Mind if I say something personal? Mind if I ask your opinion?_ But there’s nothing he can ask this kid that will help him make sense of himself, of the world, of his own place in it, no matter how prophetic he is. “You know, if we want to traipse out to the edge of camp, you might not need to summon him. He might be hanging out.”

 

 

“Oh…hmm. All right. I didn’t mind giving my blood for a real dragon, though…” Natsume wistfully says, and hikes his skirts back up to his thigh to slide the dagger back into place (next to two others). “You can Say and Ask whatever. Everyone does, because they—“ He pauses. “Sorry. You asked that inside, not outside. I’m getting it mixed up more lately.” 

 

 

“That must be a really scary power,” Kaoru says quietly, and mentally, closes every door and window in the wall that is his security, shutting off his thoughts to any intrusion. “Why do people always ask you questions? You’re not very nice, so why?”

 

 

“It’s mostly just embarrassing, not scary,” Natsume mutters, throwing his leg back over the windowsill to sit in it. “I don’t know, why do _you_  keep asking me questions if you think I’m not very nice?” 

 

 

“Because it feels like giving advice to me when I was your age, and no one ever did that,” Kaoru says, _much_ more honestly than he’d meant to. “Ah…I mean…wow, you _are_ easy to talk to.”

 

 

“…Hm. That’s not the reason people usually give. Usually, they’re just excited to talk to a real prophet. They want me to map out their life for them, and then they get upset when I tell them that’s not how this works, and they storm off. The longer someone talks to me, the easier it is for me to See, but whatever.” 

 

 

“But I don’t want my life mapped out,” Kaoru says, following Natsume to the window. “It’s going to be boring enough, lasting that long. Knowing what’s ahead would be the worst thing. Hey, are you going to jump? You know there’s a staircase, right?”

 

 

Natsume pauses, and _looks_  at him. “The previous Emperor is lurking around here,” he stiffly says. “I don’t want him to see me. I don’t like the way he looks at me.” 

 

 

“Then you’re going to the right place, at least. He and the dragon can’t stand each other. Here, if I lower you down, can you make it?” Kaoru asks, extending a hand. 

 

 

_I can magic myself into a very pretty landing_ , _I don’t need your help,_  Natsume almost says, with the dismissiveness of someone who uses magic for absolutely _everything_ , but he shuts his mouth, for some reason, and takes Kaoru’s hand instead. “I’m heavier than I look,” he warns. 

 

 

“And I’m stronger than I look,” Kaoru assures him, and grips Natsume firmly, clasping his forearm and lowering him, then hopping out of the window himself, catching with his other hand, only letting Natsume go when he’s a bare foot above the ground. Then he drops the last several feet himself, and brushes off his breeches, grinning like a schoolboy. “I haven’t climbed out a lady’s window in ages. Ah, no offense, I didn’t mean to call you a lady, the dress got to me.”

 

 

“That’s what it’s supposed to do,” Natsume says, straightening his clothes briskly and plucking a few leaves from his hair. “Though you’re still terribly vulgar. I’ll let it go this once. What thing did you want my opinion on, anyway?” 

 

 

The smile on Kaoru’s face fades. “It’s just…as a sounding board, yeah? I’m not expecting you to really come up with an answer for me.”

 

 

“But it can’t hurt to throw things against a sounding board until maybe something sticks. This is why Lord Shu knows more things,” Natsume says firmly. “He talks to me more. Talk while you lead me to the dragon.”

 

It’s not _that_ hard to feel where Madara, probably, is. Kaoru shifts them in that direction, and taps his fingers distractedly on the hilt of his sword. “I wish there were a way to be a paladin without being part of the clan. To have the powers without bending to their will and getting caught up in the politics. But that would set me up as a potential rival, and I’d have no resources. Giving up my power completely is…I don’t know, if I can help people with it and I give it up, how am I better than a demon?”

 

“No resources…even though you’re in very close ranks with the king? If you broke away, surely it couldn’t be that hard to establish yourself with that alone…” Natsume stares straight forward, firmly ignoring the feeling of _eyes on him_ that being out and about always brings. No one is looking, not in so many words, but the paths of their souls might be and feeling that makes him almost _itch._ “It’s interesting to hear you talk. You should probably decide if you love or hate demons first.”

 

“Well, see, that’s what makes me a bad paladin,” Kaoru admits freely, watching Natsume flinch and twitch randomly out of the corner of his eye. “Because most of them will just say they’re bad, but I’ll have to ask whether you mean specific Shadowbred folks, or whether you mean them as a species.”

 

“I feel like that’s the case with most things, though. Humans as a species are no good, but certain ones are good.” Natsume refocuses with a full body shiver, and yanks his cloak more securely about himself, unconcerned with how it trails the ground. “But most paladins are…really closed off, hmm. You must really like Lord Rei.”

 

“Just a little bit. I married him, you know? Hey, you okay? Is there someone looking for you or something?”

 

“…No. Lots of energy around is uncomfortable. I Hear too much, normal humans don’t shut up, ever.”

 

“Ehh…does being around him help?” Kaoru asks, intrigued. “Wataru, I mean.”

 

“Being around any of the Nightcloaks helps,” Natsume mumbles, huddling into his own cloak more. “But him especially. And Lord Rei. They’re good at making it quiet.”

 

“Not Shu?” Kaoru grins. “I mean, he seems like he’s got a lot whirring around in his brain at any one time, but he also kinda seems like he’d keep it tightly locked away, you know?”

 

“Mm. Lord Shu doesn’t…spread out. If it’s just him, it’s peaceful, but in a busy place, Lord Rei and my master—Wataru, damn it, I’ve been so good at that,” Natsume crossly fusses at himself underneath his breath. “Lord Rei and Wataru—they spread out and muffle everything else.”

 

“You can call him your master, kid,” Kaoru says softly. “I’m not going to make fun of you. He taught you a lot about magic, right?”

 

“Once, he made me think he was in trouble in the Shadowlands just so I’d have to figure out how to get there and past all of the traps and barriers around Rei’s estate to ‘rescue’ him.” Natsume huffs. “Yes, he’s taught me a lot. He…was the first wizard I met, other than Lord Rei, in the Isles. This was his Nightcloak, he gave it to me.”

 

“And you love him,” Kaoru stated, as if it were an absolute fact. “But don’t you like…want your own Nightcloak, maybe? Someday?”

 

“This one’s mine! He got another one,” Natsume defensively says, his face flushing as he pointedly ignores the first statement. “Our cloaks, they Think, you know? This one knows it’s mine now. I bloomed a Nightcloak and it knew.”

 

“Sounds good,” Kaoru says vaguely. “Sorry if you wanted to talk about magic, I’m not really smart in that way. I think it’s all very impressive, though.”

 

“Seraphim-based magic is still magic in my opinion, it just activates in a different way. That’s why career paladins are better than archdemons even if they’re just as mean.”

 

“Eh? Nah, that’s wrong, it’s not magic,” Kaoru says, utterly certain. “It comes from a different power source. And the seraphim might have taught us how to use it, but it’s not like…based in their power.”

 

“You’re not special, all species’ magic comes from different power sources,” Natsume sniffs, just as certain. “Just because you’ve learned how to work it by Believing doesn’t mean it isn’t magic.”

 

“We’re not wizards. There’s nothing inherently magical about us,” Kaoru argues. “We don’t Bloom.”

 

“By that logic, creatures—which we usually call _magical creatures_ —aren’t using magic,” Natsume parries. “But they are, because you’d never say a dragon, which is also not a wizard, isn’t magical, would you?”

 

“Ooh, he’d better not!”

 

A light tenor voice booms in a way that tenor voices usually don’t, and green light flashes at the edges of their vision for a moment, before coalescing into the figure of Madara, striding cheerfully towards them with a bounce in his step. “Lord Kaoru, are you telling lies about me?”

 

“Just the rare beast I wanted to see,” Kaoru calls back with an internal sigh. “I brought a relative to meet you.”

 

Natsume goes as still as a deer spotted in the woods by a hunter, his eyes as big as saucers as he scarcely dares to quiver. What, exactly, are the rules about greeting dragons? Does he bow his head, or does he not, because he, also, has some portion of dragon’s blood in his veins? Or does that not apply, because he’s a _man_ from the Isles, and therefore, automatically…less?

 

Best to play it safe, perhaps. Natsume bows his head, and sucks in a steadying breath. “It’s an honor to meet you, Lord Dragon.”

 

“Ooh! A Skybred—and a wizard, no less? Here? Lord Kaoru, what are you doing, leading my little cousin into danger like this?” Madara asks with a huge grin, and in a step, is somehow right next to them, sweeping Natsume up into an enormous hug that lifts him a few feet off the ground.

 

The sound Natsume makes is _definitely_ a squeak, both out of surprise and just—the sound he _has_ to make, when he’s effectively picked up and crushed. “U-um—is this really—all right?” he frets from where he’s squashed. “Don’t dragons usually—want a blood sacrifice, of some kind? I’ll provide one!”

 

Madara sighs, and sets Natsume down, beaming at him. “Ah, those were the days. I remember once, on my island, the festival around the sacrifice went on for three months. What miracle do you need, little cousin?”

 

“For the previous Emperor to be cast back into the depths,” Natsume blurts out without thinking as he rocks back onto his heels, staring up in awe (very far up??) at Madara. “I—ah, I didn’t mean that,” he hastily backtracks. “I mean—I did, but I didn’t…you don’t need to do that, is what I mean…”

 

Madara cocks his head. “I mean, it would give me an excuse, and I really hate that little snake,” he says cheerfully. “You know the ritual, right? I expect a festival.”

 

Natsume hesitates, a wild, illogical part of his brain seriously considering it. _Except then who is going to close the Northern gate? Not you, you’re not good enough, that lizard has you beat,_ his mind jabs at him, and a hard lump forms in his throat. “…I would, but he’s needed, supposedly,” he mutters, looking aside. “I…Lord Kaoru didn’t bring me here for anything in particular, and I didn’t want to trouble you. I had just…never met a dragon before…”

 

Madara deflates slightly at the idea that he isn’t actually needed to drag Eichi into the Dark Depths. “Oh, well. You’ve met me now. If you ever decide you need something, I can give you a list of my favorite kinds of festivals. I’m pretty easy to bribe! Most of your kinsmen have forgotten how to do it properly, though. Make sure you remind them.”

 

“I can remind them.” _If I ever go home._ “So you _could_ drag him back to the depths,” Natsume presses, taking a wary step closer. “Lord Rei says you can’t. He says you would just drop him into a volcano.”

 

“It would have to be a _really_ good festival,” Madara warns. “What does Lord Rei know? I can absolutely drag him down. But it’d have to be the best festival I’ve ever been to, because I’d have to take him there myself. Far more efficient to drop him in a volcano. It buys you another few decades without him, at least, because I _assume_ everyone will be better at burning his leftovers this time.”

 

“It was his wizard’s cloak,” Natsume unhappily says. “It won’t burn. Plus his hair, one of his _stupidest_ sycophants kept his hair. I want more than a few decades without him, though; I want him _gone_ -gone. Ah, I don’t have a miracle other than that that I need, but I have a question—“ Or twenty. “Maybe.”

 

“I like questions.” Madara tosses his hair out of his eyes. “As long as we can keep moving, I hate staying still. Lord Kaoru, take a break and see Lord Rei, this is a family matter.”

 

Kaoru hovers. “You want me to come?” he offers Natsume, more quietly.

 

It would be nice to have Kaoru as a security blanket, but it certainly is childish to cling to him and hide behind him when he’s a Nightcloak, isn’t it? “Lord Rei needs you more than me, it’s fine,” Natsume says, tugging his cloak forward over his shoulders as he takes a step after Madara. “We’re just going to talk for awhile, and maybe about magic things, which you don’t Believe in.”

 

“I believe it exists,” Kaoru protests, but just squeezes Natsume’s shoulder, then pats his back. Then, deliberately, he thinks, _If you need me, just call my name. I should be able to hear._

 

“We can all hear,” Madara says, amused and not trying to hide it. “I won’t hurt my little cousin, especially not on purpose! What was your name?”

 

It takes a great deal of effort not to grab onto Kaoru’s sleeve and ask him, actually, could he stay, that’d be nice. Instead, Natsume huffs, nose in the air, and steps after Madara, deciding to be brave and reach out for his arm instead. “Natsume. I’m not afraid of being hurt.”

 

Madara grins. “Then, wanna have some fun? Upsie-daisy!”

 

And with that, he tosses Natsume into the air, a good fifty feet. Before the arc of his parabola meets the descent, enormous wings unfurl beneath him, and there’s the smooth broad back of a dragon, lifting him further into the air.

 

This would probably be far more terrifying to someone not regularly tossed up and about into the wind regularly and hardly expecting to actually be _caught_.

 

Natsume lands onto that dragon’s back, and his main concern is getting his hair out of his face with a huff of excited breath as he settles back, smoothing his skirts. “You’re much bigger than the stories,” he offers up, hoping that’s a compliment. “Don’t take me too far, everyone’s an idiot and I have to make sure they don’t die!”

 

“Whether you’re there or not, they’ll die eventually,” Madara says, in a way that’s probably supposed to be encouraging. He dips his wings, pumping hard, soaring up on the thermals. “How high has he taken you, cousin? Want to see how high we can go before we see the Isles?”

 

“ _No_ , because I’m not an Airbred and _I’ll_ die,” Natsume hisses, hooking his fingers into a few scales to better cling and stay put. “I’m not Icebred, either, and it’s cold! Tell me about the archdemons in the North, you _must_ know about them.”

 

“Eh…must I?” Madara asks, and dips his wingtips, letting his altitude decline a bit, keeping in one of the warmest currents he knows. “I’ve crossed paths, sure, but that was a long time ago, they might be totally different creatures by now, adding and chipping away powers until they’re someone else.”

 

“But one of them is related to the previous Emperor,” Natsume lowly presses. “That’s why I thought…you’d know something? Unless my dreams were wrong.” He hasn’t even mentioned to Rei about that particular relation—and for good reason, he thinks. An additional Eichi in the North, more or less? No, thank you.

 

“I know something,” Madara says, agreeably enough. “Plenty of things, really. I’m here to keep them in check, more or less. Haha!”

 

“You aren’t doing a very good job of it,” Natsume points out, quite reasonably, he thinks. His mother would have scolded him for talking to a dragon like this, he’s sure.

 

“Oh, no?” Madara asks, cheerfully enough. “What should I do, then?”

 

“If you know something, speak of it. And if you’re trying to protect the king, as I’ve been told you supposedly are, perhaps prevent that slimy lizard from working spells upon him.”

 

“I can’t stop one bonded from doing anything to the other,” Madara says, almost too softly to be heard over the wind. “The older we get, the more bound we are by the rules—and that’s been bad for me, because I hate rules, always have. But…ah, how to put it? You don’t want me to get any more involved than I am.”

 

“Dragons are supposed to be the protectors of the realm,” Natsume insistently presses. “Doesn’t the previous Emperor and his spawn qualify as a threat to be involved in? You could actually get _rid_ of them.”

 

“Dragons, the protectors of the realm?” Madara asks, amused. “I like that. Mm, I did know a few who thought of it that way. Powerful creatures, you wouldn’t like the festivals they had. One of them is sleeping under your biggest island, I think! But little cousin…why do you think there are no more dragons, except for me, when we used to fly in great formations over the land?”

 

“Legends say otherwise, but I always assumed it was because people are annoying and you were sick of dealing with their constant requests. That’s why I’d disappear, anyway.”

 

“What do your legends say? Humor me, it’s been quite a while since I was in a classroom.”

 

“They say that dragons dwindled in number because our sacrifices grew sparser, as more and more mainlanders came to the Isles and thought them distasteful. It’s easy to blame mainlanders, when they all eventually leave the Isles because of boredom, anyway.” Natsume shivers, drawing his cloak more tightly about himself with one hand. “As more of them moved through the Isles, so many of the traditions for the festivals were lost, so the dragons didn’t like that, and stopped appearing. It’s also distasteful, _apparently_ , for a priestess to be publicly naked and covered in cow’s blood.”

 

“…For once, the books got some of it right,” Madara says quietly. “We don’t do things without the rituals. We’re not _made_ to. When the rituals stop, we dwindle. And the truth of it behind that is, when humans don’t _ask_ for us, it’s because they don’t _want_ us around. Would you like to go back to the days of thousands of dragons in flight? Each of us demanding a sacrifice every few months, each of us needing to feed on your livestock, just to keep the archdemons at bay?”

 

“…If it meant avoiding the sort of mess we’re in right now, I’d say it’s worth it,” Natsume softly says, huddling back and shivering again in spite of the warm currents of air. “But I like rituals, and I like an order to things. Archdemons ruin all of that.”

 

“It would mean more archdemons, too,” Madara points out. “And the rest, too. Our power _has_ to be in balance, that’s how we’re designed. Well, little cousin, if Eichi gets his way and more of them come spilling in, you might get your wish. As you said, dragons _are_ the protectors of the realm. Even my sleepiest kinsfolk couldn’t ignore something like that!”

 

“…If there weren’t so many people that liked him, for some reason,” Natsume sullenly says, “I’d perform a ritual now and sacrifice whatever you wanted to just have you rid us of him. But no vision I have points to that, and all I can See is snow. So I guess he’ll live to go North, or I will, at the very least.”

 

“I need a festival,” Madara points out. “I won’t do it for just you dancing alone covered in blood, where’s the fun in that? I need _excitement_ , I need musicians, dancers, food stalls, juggling!”

 

“Said as if I wouldn’t make that happen. But I’m not going to, like I said, too many people like him for some reason,” Natsume huffs, and flops flat down over Madara’s back. “Take me back.”

 

“Sick of me already? That was longer than most people make it,” Madara says with evident cheer, and lowers one wing, sweeping in a graceful, enormous circle, heading back for the camp. “Though if you want, we can take a peek up North before we land. I have a hunch we might see something interesting. Anything twigging your senses, Seer?”

 

“I’m not sick of you, I’m sick of this situation,” Natsume says, his voice muffled by the wind and where he presses it into Madara’s scales. “I’m not dressed to go North. Everything is pulling on my senses up here, it’s confusing.”

 

“Eh, you need some help? I’d offer to blanket you, but that’s not really one of my talents. Rip down a mountain, sure. But this is about as close as I can get to a human without killing you,” he says frankly, almost apologetically. “It’s hard to be gentle when you’re my size. Same goes for my magical power.”

 

“No, no, don’t…don’t do that, everything’s just muddy up here,” Natsume mutters distractedly. “And reeks of paladins. I guess that’s the price of heading North; I had that issue in the Hinterlands, too. For what it’s worth, I think it’s hard to be gentle when I’m _my_ size.”

 

“You mean with your tongue? That’s pretty common for our folk who have to interact with Mainlanders,” Madara says sympathetically. “I’m always hurting people’s feelings without meaning to. At least I know I can’t hurt the King on accident, now.”

 

“I wish it were easier, talking to these people. Maybe that’s why I end up stuck around purebloods, they’re the only ones that tolerate me,” Natsume unhappily mumbles, mostly to himself. “Nnf. What do you mean, you can’t hurt the King now?”

 

“Now that he took the land,” Madara clarifies, as he sweeps over the snow-frosted tops of pine trees. “You had to have felt it, I felt it from a town away, the whole earth rang.”

 

Natsume’s fingers curl as a shiver runs down his spine. “I was distracted. With Lord Rei. But I knew something felt…wrong, about the king, when I saw him. You’re certain?”

 

“…As sure as I can be without running him through myself,” Madara says quietly. “It’s him, or it’s someone else who’s declared himself king, and has the support of someone who knows how to work old Paladin rituals.”

 

Thinking of Eichi as a _paladin_ in any shape or form makes Natsume want to vomit, for some inexplicable reason. His head spins for a moment, and he shivers again, drawing his cloak tighter around himself, even though it does little to warm him. His vision splashes red with blood against the snow, as if it’s right there in front of him, and not just his Sight marring the current world around him.

 

It’s not Leo’s blood, but that doesn’t make it good news.

 

“…There aren’t many options, as to who that could be,” he whispers. “The ritual—it was made to protect the king, but only until the birth of his heir. Correct? That’s what Lord Kaoru said.”

 

“Uh, depends what version they did,” Madara says. “That’s one of them. The other one, it lasts until the king’s heir comes of age. And I think one of them just lasts half a century. Eichi’s old enough, he’d know all of them, unless he’s forgotten.”

 

“Don’t say his name, it gives him power, he doesn’t need _more_ ,” Natsume huffs, scratching at Madara’s back. “None of the other ones make sense for the moment, not with—what’s right in front of him.” He swallows, suddenly consumed by the thought. “Izumi.”

 

“But Eichi likes the king a lot, right? They’re bonded, at least, so their survival is tied together. Wouldn’t the longest period make the most sense? That’s what I’d do, for a king I really liked. I’d have done it for Leo, but…”

 

Madara banks his wings, bringing them down to the ground, and changes back into his human form in an eyeblink. “But I’ve been trying not to get involved.”

 

“No. Listen,” Natsume suddenly, insistently says, abandoning the need to remain wrapped in his cloak as he lurches forward once he’s on the ground, grabbing at Madara’s arm. “The king would be invincible until his heir is born—what if his heir is _never_ born?”

 

Madara opens his mouth, then shuts it, his eyes suddenly sharp. “Where is Izumi?” he asks, voice very quiet.

 

“He was with me, until Lord Kaoru came to visit. I…I sensed something was off, but I couldn’t tell what, so I asked him to stay and guard me.” Natsume swallows, his stomach flipping over. “Izumi likes the previous Emperor, even if he’s wary of him. He’d…go with him, if he asked, I think.”

 

“Go find Wataru,” Madara says, giving Natsume a little shove between his shoulderblades. “Or Kaoru, or Rei. Go. Eichi’s doing some kind of concealment, I can’t see anything in that little settlement.”

 

 _But he doesn’t have the strength for that!_ Natsume wants to argue. _He closed the Western gate, he’s stripped of power!_

 

Unless he fed again, one way or another.

 

Natsume sucks in a breath, stumbling forward before he grabs up his skirts in one hand and takes off at a dead run back towards the encampment proper, cloak streaming behind him.

 

_Wata—_

 

No, no, not him, what if he’s helping?

 

That shiver of doubt makes Natsume clamp down on the reach he normally would offer towards his lover, and change trajectory. _Lord Kaoru?_

 

 _You need help?_ comes the immediate response, clean and clear as only someone who’s been trained in telepathy could manage. _Where? I’m in Rei’s tent._

 

_I’m coming there._

 

Winded doesn’t _quite_ cover how Natsume feels when he manages it there in another five minutes, his chest heaving, a hand scrabbling back behind himself to loosen his corset strings, even just a little. “I’m sorry,” he wheezes, his face flushed from the cold, nose dripping a little. “Madara—told me to find you, or Lord Rei, or W-Wataru, and I didn’t…it’s important, a-about—“

 

“Take a breath, child,” Rei firmly says, starting to rise painstakingly to his feet, only to feel the ominous crackle of the spellwork still around Natsume, fully of Wataru’s making. “Kaoru, help him.”

 

Kaoru takes Natsume by the arm, pulling him into the tent and down to sit on the blanket, and shoots Rei a vaguely annoyed look. _Even now? With lust in your heart? Really?_ “Did the dragon hit you with some extra prophecy juice and freak you out? Come on, now, you know how to meditate, breathe, kid.”

 

Rei shrugs a helpless shoulder towards Kaoru. _It’s innate, I can’t control it._ “Madara has that way about him—just breathe, Natsume. What did he say?”

 

Natsume’s head shakes firmly as he sags down into the blanket, still breathing hard, trembling down to his toes. “It w-wasn’t…all what he _said_ ,” he miserably says. “The taking of the land—it’s real, he did it, he _planned_ that.”

 

Rei pauses, his eyes narrowed as he sits suddenly straighter, less concerned with his own current weakness. “Madara is sure of that?”

 

Natsume nods, his fingers bunching into his skirts. “H-he felt it. I know…we were preoccupied, and there was magic everywhere in here. That’s probably why we didn’t notice. He…he probably planned that, too, or something like it. He must have assumed Wataru would use his extra energy for something that would effect you…”

 

“Something that was terrible timing, and a bad idea,” Kaoru says grimly, almost disgusted with himself, “but that we’ve wanted for centuries, and we couldn’t say no to in our right minds. Damn, I hate being played, even by myself.”

 

“I _do_ so hate realizing his machinations after the fact,” Rei ruefully says, hands curling atop his knees. “I knew he was up to something, but I just didn’t realize what.”

 

Promptly, and very unexpectedly, Natsume bursts into tears. “I’m sorry,” he hiccups, sliding nearly flat onto the floor. “I s-should’ve Seen it—I didn’t, and so I couldn’t help, and this is my fault—“

 

“Natsume—child, no, this isn’t—“ Rei exhales, raking a hand back through his hair in his frustration. “Kaoru. Get that Nightcloak off of him.”

 

Kaoru pries the heavy cloak off, tossing it onto the blanket making up most of the floor, then promptly gathers Natsume in his arms. “Hey. You’re okay. None of us knew he was up to this—if it was anyone’s job, it was mine, don’t you think? But it’s okay, this isn’t the worst thing that could happen, all it does is keep Leo safe, and that’s not terrible, right?”

 

The weight that lifts off of Natsume is suddenly much less than the heavy weight of that cloak, and even Natsume blinks a few times, startled out of his tears at the sudden shift in magic about him. Rei stands, dropping down onto the floor next to him, reaching out a careful, long-fingered hand to set it atop Natsume’s head.

 

Natsume hiccups, trembles, and stares up through tear-soaked lashes at them both. “Oh,” he says, chest heaving.

 

“It’s still biting me, little one, but that certainly takes away the real sting of it” Rei gently says, stroking Natsume’s hair slowly. “We’ll deal with that later. I’m not upset with you, you didn’t do anything wrong. You were saying?”

 

Natsume shudders again, but nods, huddling up into Kaoru’s chest as he’s petted, feeling naked without the cloak he’s worn since he was allowed to actually practice magic. “There’s different _kinds_ of that ritual, Madara says,” he whispers. “And the previous Emperor…would know them, because it’s like…old, old paladin stuff. The only one that makes sense is the one until his heir is born, but…but what if his heir is _never_ born?”

 

Kaoru frowns, thinking that one over as he pets Natsume’s back, in tandem with Rei’s long fingers on his head. Some of his own power spins up, residual strands from a previous working to protect and soothe the tent’s inhabitants. “That’s not going to be a problem,” he says gently. “Because Izumi’s about to pop. And they’re married. And in case you’ve forgotten, or Eichi has, Izumi’s basically unkillable. Eichi probably just did it to give the king some extra protection through this kerfuffle in the North. Or to protect Leo from his own instinct to feed.”

 

“Even if Izumi is unkillable,” Natsume whispers, lifting his head again to stare at Kaoru, “what if the heir isn’t?”

 

Rei’s expression slowly starts to shift to something more concerned. “He’s not wrong, Kaoru. Dominant family traits. Leo fathered it, it’s unlikely it has the same strength of Icebred running through it.”

 

Natsume nods a few times, shaken. “Madara told me to find you—he also thought it was a really bad thing. He says…the previous Emperor has a concealment around the encampment, too…which, how could he, he was so weak after closing the gate—“

 

“I’m going to tear off his dick,” Rei mutters underneath his breath as he forces himself up to his feet.

 

“Wait, wait,” Kaoru protests, not stirring from where he cuddles Natsume. “But the land-taking lasts until the heir is _born_ , right? So as long as the kid is born, that’s all that matters, and it’s currently inside a really unkillable mother!”

 

“Swords can stab fairly easily through a pregnant woman’s belly, Kaoru,” Rei points out, shouldering his own Nightcloak. “It’s Eichi. Don’t you think he’s thought about all of that? Well before us, apparently.”

 

Natsume clings tightly to Kaoru’s shoulders, face buried into his neck. “Madara said he knows how to work old paladin rituals really well,” comes his muffled voice. “I don’t like that, that’s not good at all, it makes me feel sick and I don’t know why.”

 

Kaoru’s own stomach flips over at the thought, and his lip curls instinctively. “Because they’re _not_ just rituals,” he nearly growls, hands tightening before he remembers to forcibly stop them. “They’re a lot more than that, so much that most of the old, hidebound, politician-style paladins can’t even use them. _Knowing_ them doesn’t mean a damn thing if you’re not absolutely sure in your belief that demons and all those who prey on humans _need_ to be eradicated. An archdemon learning to work them…” A shiver runs through him at the very thought. “Rei. Can you find Izumi?”

 

“I’m certainly going to try. You _keep him_ here,” Rei firmly says, fastening his cloak into place as he sweeps towards the door. “I don’t care if Wataru comes seeking him out. Don’t hand him over right now, understood?”

 

Natsume lifts his head, his face tear streaked. “But—“

 

“Believe it or not, you still belong to the Academy and not to him, love.”

 

Rei stalks from the tent at that, and Natsume trembles, huddling up into Kaoru’s chest once more. “I should have Seen this,” he miserably says. “But there was nothing—or at least, nothing but vague images, and…”

 

“You might be getting worked up for nothing—not for nothing,” Kaoru corrects himself hastily, “but for no reason. Madara’s here, do you think he’d just roll over and let Eichi do whatever he wanted?”

 

“He says he’s deliberately not been getting involved,” Natsume sniffs, rubbing at his eyes with the back of one hand. “B-because if he does, that could cause a lot more problems.”

 

“Oh, no,” Kaoru says dryly, and gently pokes the end of Natsume’s nose. “It would be awful if we had problems, right? Imagine that.”

 

“Take this seriously!” Natsume snaps, slapping Kaoru’s hand away as he glares up at him. “Problems like archdemons and dragons fighting, problems like everyone dying before we can even consider dealing with the Northern gate! At least, that’s what he implied—there _has_ to be a good reason for him not just dumping Eichi into a volcano.”

 

“Dragons…aren’t very human at all,” Kaoru says slowly, not chagrined by his scolding in the slightest. “And he’s by far the most human one that’s been around in the last several hundred years. They have long-term views about stuff. Maybe it’s from living so long separate from a lot of people, or maybe it’s just from seeing us from so high up, you know? I think that’s why they’re so obsessed with _things_ , and collecting. Things don’t die fast. So I’m not sure what his reasons might be.”

 

“Either way, he seemed just as concerned as I was when I thought of this—this Izumi _thing_. That’s not good, when big, powerful creatures are _concerned_ ,” Natsume hisses through his teeth. His eyes slid over to his discarded cloak, trying not to be furious and hysterically upset all at the same time. “…and Wataru is being weird, too. I—“

 

Dizziness strikes him like a hammer to the head, and he slumps forward, forehead knocking down against Kaoru’s shoulder as he sucks in a shaky breath, previously flushed face pale. “Can you—loosen my corset strings, for a moment?”

 

Alarmed, Kaoru sits up, reaching behind Natsume to yank suddenly at the strings, loosening them in the blink of an eye, one of his special skills coming in handy yet again. “Hey. You okay? Talk to me, kid.” As if on instinct, he reaches back, grabbing Natsume’s cloak and drawing it tightly around him. “Say something mean, so I know it’s you.”

 

Natsume sucks in a deep, albeit tremulous breath, his eyes unfocused and gleaming gold. “Oh, that hurts,” he mumbles. “I didn’t know…that could happen while I was Awake…”

 

“Prophecy?” Kaoru asks, trying not to sound more concerned than necessary.

 

“No…that happens when I’m awake all the time.” Natsume leans back, still starkly pale. “But I’ve never had it…obscured when I was awake before. Like a wall, just—“ He flinches, shutting his eyes for a moment as he leans back, and huddles back into his cloak instinctively, no matter how Rei had wanted it off of him. “No, I don’t like that.”

 

“I should get you out of here,” Kaoru mutters. “This isn’t a place for a pretty little prophet, you know. How do you feel about a vacation, huh? Remember my estate in the Hinterlands? That was pretty good, right?”

 

“No, no, I can’t, what if I See something and I need to tell Lord Rei right away—“ Blood again, and snow, but so _much_ blood that it makes Natsume forcibly shut his eyes again, scrubbing a hand over them as if that’ll take the image away. He doesn’t even consider himself squeamish, not in the slightest, but something about that squeezing through even through some obscuring—“You should…you should go after Lord Rei. He’s still weak, I don’t want something to happen because you were watching me.”

 

“You’re as precious to him as that baby that’s traveling with his little demon children right now,” Kaoru says firmly. “You’ve got it backwards. If something happened to you when I was with Rei, he’d never forgive me. Hush up and tell me what you saw.”

 

The mention of Kaoru and Rei’s child makes something snap oddly into focus, and Natsume sits back, expression dazed. “Blood. So much blood in the snow. Paladins.”

 

“Where?” Kaoru’s voice is strangled, and he grabs Natsume’s shoulders. “Anything else? Anything—is he blocking you, or the area? Let’s get out of here, can you stand?”

 

“I…the area, I think, Madara said there was concealment,” Natsume mumbles, grabbing onto Kaoru’s arm to force himself up to his feet, no matter how wobbly and nauseated he feels. “This vision…it’s not about the previous Emperor, but it’s still…it’s obscured. Or it’s doing the obscuring? Back south towards the coast, away from here, that’s where, the trees are different…”

 

“That’s where my family is,” Kaoru mutters, and stands, picking Natsume up in his arms without a second thought, running through the tent flap and down the road, away from where he’s pretty sure Eichi and Leo are holed up. “Let me know when you can see it, and then—fuck, where’s my horse, I’ve got to tell Rei…”

 

“I can walk, I can walk,” Natsume protests, even as he dizzily clings to Kaoru’s neck, sucking in a sharp breath when the world spins again. “You—you don’t need a horse. I can make a portal, if you want to go there. Everything else will take too much time.”

 

“You can feel where it is?” Kaoru demands, setting Natsume down on his feet. “Do I need to bleed? I’ll do it, just tell me—tell me what I need to do.” The anxiety builds in his voice, reaching a fever pitch.

 

“I can feel where it’s _going_ to be.” Natsume sucks in a steadying breath, straightening his cloak a bit before leaning down to free a dagger from underneath his skirts. “The vision is still obscured to me. If you tell me what you think it is, it might be clearer.” He rolls up his sleeve, dragging the blade across the skin of his own arm to draw a thin line of blood to the surface. “Do you want to get Lord Rei first?”

 

“I don’t want to wait a second,” Kaoru says bluntly. “I—gods, if they rode hard, and I know they move fast, it should be around the Sinner’s Grove, there’s a really dangerous part of the road where paladins used to lie in wait for any demons coming south from the Shadowlands, there’s a huge overlooking rock, and a tree that was split by lightning and died, but another tree is growing out of the stump.”

 

Natsume nods as if he’s listening, but it’s far more Seeing that he’s doing instead, and his fingers tighten on the dagger for a moment. “…They sensed it.” He tenses his arm, and blood trickles from the wound, splattering to the ground and glowing green. “Lord Kaoru—you know we can’t change that by going there.”

 

“That’s my fucking son,” Kaoru says, voice cracking. “Open the portal. Once I’m through, _then_ go tell Rei. He…he might already know.” _They’ve taken our son. I’m going._

 

Natsume hesitates, but nods again, stepping back when the splatter of blood on the ground expands in one large, glittering green ring. “I doubt he does,” Natsume quietly says. “I thought the vision was about Izumi, after all. Go.” He slices off a strand of his hair, thrusting it into Kaoru’s hand. “You can reach for me to come back, so you don’t have to travel so far.”

 

It’s hard, so hard not to simply snap that he knows, he doesn’t _care_ , that nothing matters except finding that little life and preserving it _forever_ , but Kaoru bites that back. “Do I dive? Or step?”

 

“Step. It’s a pretty smooth ride, you just—“

 

“What the _fuck_ , Kaoru.”

 

The hand that reaches out to grab Kaoru by the back of his shirt takes Natsume by surprise, making him nearly tip forward into the glowing portal himself. Rei, winded and flushed from cold, spins Kaoru around, his long-fingered grasp tight on his arms. “Don’t send me a message like that with absolutely _no_ explanation!”

 

Natsume hesitates, then begins: “Izumi—“

 

“I don’t know where he is, and so, the end of the world can wait. Kaoru. Who and where?” 

 

“Natsume had a vision,” Kaoru says, so nervous his voice comes out sort of flat. “When I mentioned our son, and my estate in the Hinterlands. Blood on the snow, and paladins. I told him about Sinner’s Grove, and he says that’s where it’s going to happen. I don’t know what it is, but I can’t just…”

 

“So you’re just going to go without asking for help? That’s my child, too,” Rei snaps, squeezing Kaoru’s arms more tightly. “Would they try to take him? And to what end, if they did?”

 

“I assume for food?” Kaoru snaps. “I don’t know what demons want, I don’t even know who they are.”

 

“You think _demons_ would _eat him?_ ” The tree roots underfoot shift when Rei’s voice drops nearly to a growl. “They wouldn’t dare, not _my_ child—“

 

“It’s not demons,” Natsume weakly cuts in. “It’s…it’s not.”

 

Rei goes still for a moment, and the tension keeping him in place is as taut as a bowstring ready to snap. “…Then what would paladins,” he lowly begins, “want with our child?”

 

“What?” Kaoru asks, his head snapping to the side, eyes wild. “What? No, Paladins don’t attack humans.”

 

“I-I didn’t say it was paladins! Just that they were there, and—Lord Rei, _no_ , you’re not in any state to go!” Natsume hastily says, diving after him to cling to his arm and rather uselessly drag him back from the portal, using only his weight to hopefully stop him.

 

“But that’s the implication—“ Rei whirls back to Kaoru, Natsume still dangling from his arm. “Kaoru, would they take that child? _Answer me_ , and be honest, do not sweeten my impression of your family right now!”

 

“When have I _ever_ sided with them over you?” Kaoru demands, grabbing Rei’s shirt and hauling him up. “You think I’m just like them? I—“ He tries to think, can’t think, can’t _think_. “If they knew what he was, probably not, but if they just saw two little demons spiriting away a human baby, yeah, they’d take the baby and—I’ve got to help them.”

 

“…And if you go there and tell them that’s _your child_ in an attempt to take it back, what will they do?” Rei yanks himself free of Kaoru’s grasp. “Would they kill him? Kill you?”

 

“I—“ Kaoru runs a frustrated hand back through his hair. “I don’t know. I don’t know! It…it depends who it is. And if Hinata and Yuuta killed any of them.”

 

“Is there anyone,” Rei lowly ask, “stupid enough to attack _me_ , that you know of, if I go and intervene?”

 

Kaoru opens his mouth, then closes it, vibrating in frustration. “If they knew how weak you were right now,” he says softly, looking away.

 

Rei curses, turning away as well, staring off into the distant woods in complete frustration. “Then go,” he grinds out. “And don’t tell them it’s ours. Lie, and be good at it.”

 

“…Can I—“

 

“No. Go find your master, Natsume, before I try to sink my teeth into you.”

 

The words are less harsh, more exhausted, and Rei stalks off, leaving Natsume to stare after him in a peculiar mix of confusion and longing before shaking that off with an embarrassed shudder. “I—I can go with you,” he says, looking back to Kaoru. “If it might help. I can lie, say he’s mine.”

 

“Lying to them isn’t as easy as you think,” Kaoru says woodenly. “I think…if it’s just me, I think I should be able to manage. I know them…better than anyone.” _Better than I want to_. “Open it, now, please, before…before anything else happens. There’s more than just my son at stake, if I let anything happen to the foxes…”

 

“…Just don’t forget to come back,” Natsume quietly says, taking a step back from the portal as it glows green again, and widens, the glimmering lines of what appears to be a staircase coming into view.

 

“Take care of yourself, kid,” Kaoru says, and grimaces. “And of Rei. And Izumi, if you can fit in stopping the end of the world.”

 

Then he turns, and plunges into the portal.


	29. Chapter 29

 

The perks of being the King’s Dog do include warm accommodations and freedom of movement about the encampment, but that doesn’t do much to buffer the cold when he has to pay a visit to those lesson fortunate.

 

Hiyori is a prisoner in the eyes of the King and his men, which means being tucked neatly away in a corner of the camp in a tent that really is quite chilly. Those meant to guard the area have been, and still are, delightfully easy to charm away with the gentle prodding of magic, and so Eichi sweeps in without much of an issue…now that he’s well-fed, of course.

 

“The dragons might have finally caught on,” Eichi mildly ‘greets’ as he steps into the tent, pulling the flap shut behind himself. “But that was to be expected. Oh, for goodness sake, at least take those bloody clothes off. Humans don’t like that look.”

 

Hiyori cocks his head, frowning as he looks down at his tunic and trousers, both liberally splattered with red. “They don’t? But it’s just human blood, not anything weird. It’s inside them all the time.”

 

“Yes, but it’s _incriminating_ ,” Eichi says, coaching the idiot as if he’s truly a child. “They’ll want to know where it came from.”

 

“But it’s obviously from inside a human,” Hiyori says, still puzzled as he nonetheless strips. “You’ve been in the human world too long, just like my lord said. You really understand them, it’s creepy.”

 

“Yes, well, that’s very good when you want to make humans do what you want, isn’t it?” Eichi exasperatedly says, taking each article of clothing and tossing it to the floor in a heap before lighting that heap on fire with a snap of his fingers. “It’s not that it’s from inside a human, necessarily. It’s that it’s from inside a human that _should not be injured._ Or dead, in this case.” His eyes slit, reptilian in an instant. “Or at least, as close to that as one of them can be.”

 

“That one was really annoying,” Hiyori says, plopping down naked in a sulk. “Ow, by the way, you didn’t warn me the blond one was one of _yours_.”

 

“I warned you he might get in the way. That should’ve been enough of a hint.” Eichi strides to Hiyori’s pack, rummaging through it to find a set of decently clean clothes. “Get dressed. If that dragon shows up, do you really want to die naked?”

 

“You swore you’d protect me from him,” Hiyori says immediately, grabbing the clothes and yanking them on, still looking as if he has to think about where each garment goes. “You made a vow, if he kills me, every contract you have with my mate is null, and he’s _way_ stronger than you these days!”

 

“Is he? He hasn’t had _you_ to suck the life out of,” Eichi sniffs, folding his arms as his eyes slide back to the tent entrance, and as an extra precaution, adds another layer of silencing spell about the area. “Leo won’t let him kill you. He understands, at least, that you’re an important bargaining chip. Besides—you didn’t do anything wrong.” He pauses, and sighs. “You _do_ understand the concept of lying still, don’t you?”

 

“Saying something that isn’t true to evoke a desired reaction,” Hiyori recites. “What lie should I tell? Will the dragon believe me? Um, maybe you should just…do it…for me…”

 

“That you _didn’t do anything_ and furthermore, you don’t _know_ anything. You’re an idiot, remember? You have no idea what he’s talking about. You shouldn’t even _know_ that snake and my descendent.” Eichi heaves a long sigh, and pats Hiyori’s head, much like one would a dog. “The dragon probably won’t believe you, but I’ll step in and deal with it if he comes for you. That whore prophet couldn’t have seen anything, so he has no proof.”

 

Hiyori looks up at Eichi, and his breathing calms. “All right. And then…once we get through this, we get to go, right? It’s been too long, it’s cold and way too bright and I need to be at his side.”

 

“Go?” Eichi’s eyebrows raise. “Well, we’ll _go_ North. You’ll be cold up there, too, probably, but at least you’ll be with your mate, if you keep doing as I say. As for what happens after that…well. He and I need to talk, of course.”

 

“I was just bluffing. Lying,” Hiyori says, as if confidentially. “He’s not going to fight you or anything. As long as I’m safe, you know?”

 

“Oh, I know,” Eichi sweetly says, leaning down so that their faces are level as he gives Hiyori’s cheek a gentle pat. “And I’ve been good to you. _Haven’t_ I? I’m even willing to ward off a dragon for you.”

 

“For something _you_ did,” Hiyori says, looking away as his cheeks turn slowly pink. “You let them lock me up, though. And you’ve been taking mean-sized bites. And you haven’t let me feed until today. He didn’t have to lend me to you, you know, you’d better make this up to him.”

 

“I _had_ to be mean to you, or they’d be suspicious of us, love,” Eichi says with a sigh. “And you know, he _did_ have to lend you to me. If he didn’t, that would be _awfully_ disrespectful of him, wouldn’t it?”

 

 _You didn’t give him a choice. You never do._ But part of being a phenomenal liar, Hiyori has found, as he butts his head into Eichi’s hand like an affectionate cat, is pretending to be a very _bad_ liar to the people most likely to catch you. “He wouldn’t do that. You know him, he’s bound by all the Old Ones still. Eh…is that…” All the hair on the back of his neck stands up, and he shifts nervously, looking at the tent entrance.

 

Eichi’s eyes lid as he looks almost through Hiyori, contemplative, before they slide away, and he scowls, straightening as he turns towards the tent flap. “What?” he sighs, arms folding. “Don’t tell me I’m not allowed to check on this idiot and make sure he’s behaving.”

 

Madara’s hand shoots in through the tent flap, grabbing Eichi by the shirt and hauling him out. “Where’s Izumi?” he demands, the words reverberating in the stillness of their surroundings. “I can smell his blood coming from here!”

 

Instinct makes the hair on the back of his own neck stand up, makes him want to lash out and snarl and claw directly into Madara—but he didn’t get this far to ruin it because he dislikes the thing in front of him more than just about anything.

 

“I have no idea. I think he went ahead to check the roads, with that descendent of mine,” Eichi breathes instead, holding his hands up in a display of pliant innocence. “But if you smell blood, it’s because I fed on him, and I might have scratched him up a bit. Consensually, of course. I _did_ promise Leo I would be ever so nice.”

 

“You can fool everyone in this entire realm,” Madara says, eyes glittering green, “and you’ll never fool me.” He tosses Eichi over his shoulder, prowling into the tent and letting his sharp gaze rake around, settling on Hiyori. “I haven’t looked inside you for him yet, stand up and we’ll fix that.”

 

“M-me?” Hiyori squeaks, doing his best to recede into that helpless, pathetic persona he’s been cultivating. “Eichi, help!”

 

Eichi hisses, clawing his way back upright and darting back after Madara. “You can _look_ all you want, without ripping him open,” he snaps, standing between them with an arm swung out to at least superficially block Madara’s path to Hiyori further. _Remember this, you little shit, and tell that grandson of mine._ “He hasn’t fed on that snake. The only thing he’s been allowed to feed on is me. You’re not a stupid dragon, are you? You can sense that—or have you become too entranced by the forests here that you’ve lost your mind?”

 

Madara’s arm shoots up, grabbing Eichi by the chin with a grip like steel—just like, as his claws start to slide out of his fingernails, his control wavering. “Don’t get in my way,” he hisses. “I’m _this_ close to rousing all of my kind and telling them what you’re up to. Think you can kill me before I do?”

 

Eichi’s breath hitches, his pupils slits in the midst of brightly glowing blue eyes. “The assumption that I’m _up_ to something,” he breathes, reaching a hand up to grasp at Madara’s wrist, his own nails long, black talons, “is delightful, and adorable. I’m protecting my mate. What would your kind do to me, if you did rouse them? Kill me?” A quiet giggle escapes before he can stop himself. “Let them try.”

 

“Drag your entire cursed species back into the abyss where you _belong_ , Hellspawn,” Madara snarls, and slams Eichi to the ground by his neck, pinning him there, his own claws cracking the ground where they split into it. “I’ll happily rot down there if you keep me company for eternity, murdering _filth_ —“

 

The urge to rise up and _shred_ into Madara is a strong one. Sinking his teeth into his neck, ripping it open, feeling the burn of dragon’s blood before he goes straight for his heart to finish the job, once and for all—

 

But that would be awfully _evil_ of him, wouldn’t it, by human standards?

 

Madara’s claws burn around his neck, his own magic crackling in open, aggravated distaste of Madara’s mere existence. “If you don’t let me go,” Eichi breathes, his talons digging into Madara’s wrist hard enough to draw blood, “I’ll be forced to let the king know about this…entirely uncalled for behavior. I’ve done nothing to incite this. Isn’t that right, Hiyori?”

 

“Unprovoked,” Hiyori squeaks, his voice only wavering slightly. He has to, he _has_ to, if he lets Eichi die now, it’s all for nothing, and Nagisa will be so mad at him, and Jun will go back to his cell. “I’ll tell the king, I saw it all.”

 

There’s a tense, still moment when Madara’s eyes flick to Hiyori, who quails, but doesn’t move, then back to Eichi. Then, in a rush of air and blood, he’s gone, streaking into the sky.

 

Eichi exhales a long, hot breath, and slowly pushes himself up, grimacing as he reaches up to touch his neck, feeling his skin continue to burn and bleed. “Ow,” he remarks unhappily, casting a look over to Hiyori. “Good boy. Don’t look like it was so painful to speak on my behalf, I protected you.”

 

“He might not be able to kill you,” Hiyori says, exhaling slowly, curling up around his knees, “but he could absolutely have torn me apart, and that would have been a _really_ bad day. He doesn’t care if my mate’s soul gets ripped apart!”

 

“Which is why you should be grateful that I protected you. It’s not like I want that to happen to Nagisa either, you know,” Eichi huffs, picking himself up entirely to his feet with a grumpy sound. “Well, that was awful. I want to go be comforted now. Are you well-fed enough now that you’ve had a proper meal, or do I need to supply you with another snack?”

 

Hiyori waves his hand. “I’m always hungry, but I guess I’m fine for right now.” He sighs, and flops down onto the thin bedroll. “We can go get him soon, right?” The blanket next to him is cold and empty.

 

“Mm. That’s the plan. I hope we leave tomorrow, and I’ll try to encourage it, so…make sure you’re prepared to be on your best behavior, all right?” Eichi leans over, giving Hiyori’s head a last pat, and tries not to let blood drip onto him.

 

“Go to the king already,” Hiyori says, his voice shaky, hollow. “You only make trouble for me when you’re close by. And—and I’ve still been good, even so.”

 

Eichi sighs as he straightens up. “When you act like this, it almost makes me feel sorry for you,” he says, as if it’s a complaint. _Almost._

 

He gathers his cloak about himself and trots from the tent, tugging the flap closed behind himself before starting off back towards the inn. Almost on a whim, he reaches out for his bond, grasping for it, and giving it the gentlest of tugs. _Can you feel that?_

 

Maybe Hiyori’s right; he has been here too long, if the idea of that excites him.

 

Leo sits up in his bed, eyes wide open, feeling as if someone has reached into his chest and gently, lovingly squeezed. He stares at the wall, eyes unfocused, listening to his own heart thump.

 

Then, hesitantly, he focuses on that weird feeling, and warmth. Is that how you do it? Is that…magic?

 

 _Good._ That’s much more than it used to be. Maybe that whore is right; maybe their bond _is_ regrowing and strengthening again. It seems unfair for only someone like Rei to have grounded, perfect telepathy with their mate.

 

Eichi stops outside of the inn, standing on the ground floor near the second story window that he knows Leo to be behind. Time to try something else. _The window, Your Majesty._

 

Another weird squeeze—it’s uncomfortable, intimate, and immediately, weirdly, makes Leo hard. He swallows, then feels his gaze slide to the inn’s cloudy window in its rusted frame. He stares for a long minute, then squeezes his own cock, stands, and walks to the window, throwing it open to let in the cold. It feels good on his flushed cheeks, though it does little to cool him down.

 

“Hello,” Eichi cheerfully calls up to him, fluttering a hand in greeting. “So that worked, hmm?”

 

Leo squawks, and falls back onto his rump, scuttling away from the window. A second passes, and he’s back, wild-eyed. “How—how did you do that?” he demands. “What kind of magic did you do on me?”

 

“Eh? I didn’t do anything, I just squeezed our bond a little. Or at least, I thought I did, and it apparently was successful,” Eichi lightly says, grimacing as the chilly wind cuts across his face, and makes his hair and cloak alike whip and smack against his bloodied neck. “Ow. Your dragon abused me quite a bit, Your Majesty; can I come up?”

 

“You probably deserved it,” Leo says frankly. “Come up, I’ll cuddle with you and kiss it better.”

 

“I most certainly did _not_ ,” Eichi sniffs. “But thank you. I’ll be there…in a moment, I’m not scaling buildings.”

 

A moment later, and he arrives at Leo’s bedroom door, sliding inside and letting the door click quietly shut behind himself. “Believe it or not,” he softly says, collapsing back down into a chair with a sigh. “I was being well-behaved.”

 

Leo climbs up into Eichi’s lap, nuzzling at the red marks on his neck, uncaring of the way it smears over his face. “Not sure if I believe it or not,” he says, voice soft, “but I’m glad you’re here, and not there.”

 

“I was behaving myself,” Eichi insists, pulling Leo closer with a sigh. “I didn’t even fight back, though I wanted to. And I would’ve had the right to defend myself, but I _was_ good. He was just looking for Izumi, and couldn’t find him because he and that pretty descendent of mine went ahead to check the roads. Dragons are really so unreasonable.”

 

Leo frowns, and a little of the pleasant, hazy warmth disappears. “Looking for Izumi? Why?”

 

“Because that little whore of a proph—sorry. That’s rude, but he was rude to you, so I don’t like him,” Eichi cheerfully corrects. “Whatever his name is. Natsume? Sure. Mentioned him in some vision he had about the North, I imagine. Or if not that, he was annoyed that Izumi let me feed and feel like less of an Ingling. Don’t worry, I was sweet.”

 

Something about that is disturbing, rankles in Leo’s mind, and his muscles won’t un-tense. “I want to see him. Take me there.”

 

“I don’t know where he is, he went North,” Eichi complains, butting his face down into Leo’s hair. “What, you don’t think I was sweet? I _was_.”

 

“S-stop it, I want to see him, that’s my baby in there, he wouldn’t just leave me!” Leo’s voice starts low, but spikes high, inexplicable nerves jangling discordantly in his mind. He pushes his way out of Eichi’s lap (harder than ever, it’s always so hard, why can’t he ever _leave_ Eichi when he wants to, this bond is stupid) and heads for the door, his mental clarity gone.

 

“Leo. Stop it, you’re being ridiculous.”

 

Eichi’s grip is vicetight on Leo’s wrist, pulling him back, and he spins him around, dragging him back into his arms as he rises from his chair. “He didn’t _leave_ you. And lest you forget, he’s been traveling without you for some time with your baby in there,” Eichi gently, but firmly says, wrapping Leo up in his cloak as he keeps him close. “What are you so upset about? This is why he left without telling you; he knew you’d be like this.”

 

Leo’s mind churns. Already he feels that bond again—he can actually _feel it_ now, instead of the way it used to be. “Back when we first bonded,” he says, voice sounding as numb as he feels, “I couldn’t tell anything…it just felt like I was always horny, always too hot, always unfocused and confused.”

 

“Is it different now?” Eichi asks, giving him another, slow squeeze, but not letting him go. “It’s different, for me.”

 

“Yeah. It’s different.” Leo looks up, hurt and confusion on his face. “I can feel when you’re doing it on purpose, now.”

 

“Good.” Eichi’s head tilts to the side, fine, pale hair falling over his shoulder. “Because I am doing it on purpose. I want your attention.”

 

“Can you just wait until I figure out where my wife is?” Leo’s voice is tremulous, almost pleading. “I don’t know what’s going on, and I hate feeling like that. You have that feeling. The agenda feeling.”

 

Eichi’s mouth purses, and he releases Leo abruptly, taking a step back. “Fine. When you find him, ask him to heal the hole _your_ pet dragon tore into my neck simply because he doesn’t _like_ me. I suppose you could hide it with a dog collar, in the meantime.”

 

Leo hates himself. The moment Eichi says that, and his control falters, and he takes a little step forward, he hates himself. “Wait…”

 

“You know, it’s fine,” Eichi briskly says, taking a step back and away from him. “You’ve made yourself clear about my place. You _do_ love glorying in turning the Emperor into the Dog of the King, don’t you.”

 

Leo’s face twists. “Stop it. _Stop_ it, you know that’s not how I feel, you can _feel_ how I feel!” _How come Izumi never makes me feel this low?_ he wonders wretchedly. _How come, even if we aren’t bonded, he always makes me feel whole, and Eichi only makes me feel like I’ve faltered somewhere?_

 

“And yet, you’re concerned about your pretty snake when you have no need to be, and completely dismissive of me and mine,” Eichi says with a shrug, throwing himself back down into his chair. “I can’t wait until we can go North and have this all done with.”

 

“What do you mean by yours?” Leo demands. The more Eichi pushes back, the more Leo feels his anger rise, his rebellion against the feelings that bond is tugging on him, the warmth—and—

 

And, yes, the hurt, which he feels _viscerally_ , as if intentionally. “Why did you come here tonight?” he asks, eyes sharp. “Don’t lie.”

 

Eichi scowls up at him, chin in hand. “I wanted you to comfort me,” he moodily says. “I’ve been doing quite a bit and your dragon pet was even exceedingly cruel to me. You’re plenty sweet to me when it suits you, and brush me off as if I am only a dog to you when you can’t be bothered.” His eyes lid, his expression still a sulky pout. “Some dogs start to bite back when they’re abused, you know—guard dogs, especially.”

 

Leo feels himself deflate, feeling raw, angry with himself for not being stronger. “I’m sorry,” he says, shifting on his feet. “I…things are so complicated, I don’t…I wish I could trust you, it’s the only thing I want, but sometimes you just…”

 

_“Get out of my way, take me to the king!”_

 

The voice of Madara rings out downstairs, so loudly the entire Inn reverberates, and Leo jolts up, eyes wide.

 

“And here he is again to ruin my day,” Eichi grumpily says, unmoving from where he sits. “If you don’t send him away, _I’m_ leaving.”

 

_No, don’t leave, I’ll lose you forever, I’ll die if you go, I—_

 

The voice doesn’t sound like Leo’s, but he feels helpless, tears pricking his eyes as he grabs Eichi’s sleeve. “Just—give me a second, give me a minute, please, I don’t know what’s…”

 

“…Calm down.” Ah, that’s too much irritation, apparently. He’s going to have to learn how to temper this, if he ever wants to get anything done. Eichi heaves a sigh, reversing their grip to grab at Leo’s hand. “Go tell him to leave. Then we can relax, and cuddle.”

 

Leo takes in a deep breath, then exhales slowly, nodding. “Okay. Just wait here, don’t…please don’t go.” That fear is still with him, pounding at his brain, but it’s a little easier to breathe now. “I’ll be right back.”

 

“I’m not leaving unless he’s here,” Eichi firmly reiterates, giving Leo’s hand another, slow squeeze before releasing him. “Go on, then. Tell your dragon to fly away.”

 

“Yeah. Okay.” Leo shudders, and turns for the door, unable to stop himself from looking back over his shoulder again, twice before he leaves the room, just to make sure Eichi isn’t going somewhere.

 

Then he runs down the stairs, landing headfirst in Madara’s broad chest with a startled _oof_. “You have to go, he’s mad at me, you have to get out of here, he’s going to leave if you don’t—“

 

“Whoa, whoa.” Madara lays his hands on Leo’s shoulders, then yelps and grabs them back, frowning. “Tell him to take that off you, it’s gross. Where’s your husband?”

 

“My—he’s upstairs,” Leo says, dazed. “Eichi, he…wait, what did you say?”

 

“ _Lord Izumi,_ ” Madara says, very deliberately, and curses when his presence does nothing to dispel the bond on Leo. Deliberately, he sinks a nail into Leo’s shoulder—or tries to, only to stop when it encounters as much resistance as if he’d tried to dig through a granite wall. Worse, he can dig through granite with little effort. Well, shit. “Lord Izumi is missing, and he’s _not_ on the road to the North, I smelled his blood on that snake up there. No, don’t turn, you don’t get to go back with him right now. You’re coming with me.”

 

“But…but he’s up there,” Leo mutters, disoriented, as if the world is swimming.

 

Madara scoops him, and attempts to take flight, only to feel himself weighed down, as if the king weighs as much as a mountain. He curses again, then simply grabs Leo’s arm, hurrying his unresisting king out of the Inn and in front of Rei. “I brought him. He’s taken the land, and Eichi’s controlling him through the bond right now. Not very skillfully, either.”

 

“How could it be skillfully? He doesn’t now how a bond works in the slightest,” Rei exasperatedly says, crouching down to cup Leo’s face in his hands. At least he can _actually_ touch him—the pact wasn’t ever-so-literal—but any spellwork is right out, and he grits his teeth at his own poor planning. Surely, Shu would have understood. “Leo. Focus on me, not on Eichi.”

 

“But…he said to come right back,” Leo mumbles, eyes unfocused. He pushes vaguely at Rei’s hands, but not with any real force. “He won’t let me talk to Mama, and doesn’t want me to go after Izumi….Izumi…” His eyes widen, and snap suddenly into focus as he grabs Rei’s shirt. “Izumi! There’s—there’s something wrong, I can feel it!”

 

“I know, we’re already looking for him,” Rei quickly reassures him, closing a hand over the back of Leo’s. “I promise you, we’ll find him and figure out what’s going on. Do you want to come sit with me for awhile? We can talk about all of this.” He glances back up to Madara. “If I take him, will you put a barrier around my tent? I can’t block Eichi’s magic effectively with my own right now.”

 

“It’s not magic,” Madara grinds out, a hand on Leo’s shoulder to keep him in place. “He was waiting for this. Because through the land-taking, he can’t work any magic on the king, either. He has to rely on the bond, which has oh-so-helpfully grown back. I wonder why he waited until now to do the ritual, huh?”

 

“Believe me, I’ve come to that conclusion as well—but in general, I cannot block his magic, and if he tries to do something _stupid_ , I would appreciate some help because my allies here are quickly dwindling,” Rei hisses, squeezing Leo’s hand. “Leo. Will you come with me?”

 

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Leo asks, eyes filling. “There’s—there’s something wrong with my baby, isn’t there?”

 

“We’ll discuss all of it if you come with me,” Rei quietly says. “We don’t know what has happened yet. But you have to trust that I’m on your side in this, Leo—the last thing I want is for something to happen to Izumi.”

 

Leo stares at Rei, then blinks slowly. “Where’s your baby?” he asks quietly, and his feet start to move in time with Madara’s pulling at last.

 

“…Away from here.” It’s the only thing he can think to say, because _I don’t know_ isn’t encouraging at all. “Kaoru is taking care of it.” That’s also true.

 

Leo’s shoulders droop, and he nods in relief. “Good. Now, where are we going, and where’s my husband, and—oh! Yeah! My Captain of the Kingsguard wouldn’t leave me!” he exclaims, only now realizing what about that had bothered him so much. “He wouldn’t do that, when it’s dangerous, and not leave someone behind!”

 

“Apparently, both Izumi and Arashi are gone,” Rei informs him, keeping a firm hold on Leo’s hand to lead him directly to his tent, away from the inn. “You’re _sure_ they wouldn’t go ahead? Those two have been known to act independently before, on many occasions.”

 

“Arashi wouldn’t leave me right now, I…I think.” Leo grimaces, and grabs at his own head, attempting to squash it. “Ugh, nothing makes sense, I feel like scrambled eggs between my ears.”

 

“This is what I was afraid he’d do,” Rei quietly says, tugging Leo into his tent in short order, and shooting Madara a look over his shoulder. _Please, stay around here. I’m too weak to fully protect him._ “The way he’s using your bond—that’s not how it should be, Leo.”

 

“Don’t feel good,” Leo mutters, and wipes his running eyes and nose on his sleeve, sinking down to his knees. “It’s...there’s something wrong with me, isn’t there? Ugh, I shouldn’t have eaten that bloody dirt, Western Cuisine doesn’t agree with me after all…”

 

Madara moves, taking up a guard position at the door. _I can do this much, at least. He won’t get through me._

 

“Come here, good boy, into my nest,” Rei gently coaxes, not letting Leo settle onto the floor and easing him instead into his cot and generous pile of blankets, heated from undoubtedly some magical source. He settles next to him, folding long legs up into the blankets and folding his cloak about Leo in turn. “There we go, stay warm. It’s not your fault, you didn’t know what he was doing.”

 

“I fucked up again,” Leo whispers, sinking into the blankets. “I let him do it to me again, and this time, it’s not me who’s in danger. What do I do?”

 

“…You’re just as much in danger this time, Leo.” Rei exhales as he leans back, hands folded into his lap. It’s hard to focus on this when there’s the sudden uncertainty of his own child at stake, _plus_ Kaoru, but he has to. He _has_ to. “Perhaps not in the same way, but—the spellwork he’s placed upon you. It’s called the taking of the land.”

 

“The taking of…eh? Like the nursery tale?” Leo asks, utterly baffled. “But shouldn’t that be a good thing?”

 

“Like the nursery tale,” Rei confirms. “I suppose in normal circumstances, it would be a good thing. In this case, however…I think Eichi brought it upon you in order to protect himself in front of the archdemon up North. He eliminated you as a weakness.”

 

Leo knows it’s true, but the arrow of hurt to his heart doesn’t strike any less true. “Take it off,” he mutters. “I don’t want it.”

 

“…We can’t. That’s the art of it. It’s old, old paladin magic, meant to protect you. The only way to remove it is the birth of your true heir.”

 

“Well, that’s easy, because it’s…”

 

All of the blood drains from Leo’s face. “Go,” he whispers. “You, and Mama, go, you have to find him, you _have to find him!_ ”

 

“I _assure you,_ there are already men out looking,” Rei insistently says, reaching out to grab Leo’s shoulders before he can bolt away again. “But there’s a chance that they _did_ go further North, and it might take some time. Leo, it’s Izumi. If anyone has a chance, it’s Izumi.”

 

“But…” Leo shivers. “Wait, Arashi is sworn to me, Eichi thought that was…really interesting. Can you find him that way?”

 

“…Maybe. At the risk of alarming you,” Rei softly says, “only if he’s still alive.”

 

“Try,” Leo says immediately, heart thumping alarmingly. “Do you need my blood? You can have it,” he offers, pulling out his dagger and pricking his arm with it, only for the knife to glance off harmlessly. “Eh?”

 

“That’s how the spell works. Not a drop of your blood can be shed.” Rei smiles wryly, reaching over to take the dagger from him. “I wish I could be happier about that. I can’t do it right now, but I’m sure Natsume can. He’s the one that alerted us to the possible issues surrounding Izumi, too. Madara?” he calls towards the tent’s entrance. “Reach for your cousin, would you?”

 

“He’s already here. Or can be,” Madara says mildly, and ripples the air slightly, reaching forward and pulling Natsume through the distortion as if he’d stepped from one paving stone to another. “The king needs you.”

 

Natsume blinks a few times, refocusing from the odd shift and not entirely realizing where he is until the tent solidifies around him. Another blink, and he starts back, both simultaneously scrubbing stressed tears off of his face and whirling around to snarl at Madara, “Warn me properly next time! What if I was in the middle of casting?!”

 

“Hush, the king needs you,” Madara says, ignoring his protests and tugging him towards Leo. “We all do. Can you find my friend, Lord Arashi?”

 

“You’re wearing this again,” Rei murmurs, reaching out to promptly untie Natsume’s cloak from his shoulders. “I told you, it needed to stay off for a bit. I’m going to guard it, all right?”

 

Natsume hesitates at that, his lower lip wobbling for a moment before he steels himself with a nod. His look towards Leo is wary—reasonable, he thinks, considering the last time they argued. “You have a pact with him, correct?” He hesitates, and then, very stiffly adds, “I’m sorry for not…Seeing any of this.”

 

“I’m the dumbest king our realm has ever had,” Leo says bluntly. “Please help me find my beloved and my good friend before my bad choices get them killed.”

 

Natsume opens his mouth to remark on that, then decides not to. Having Rei sitting right there _does_ remind him that he catches more bees with honey, more or less. His eyes sharpen, glittering warm gold in the dim light as he reaches out a hand, expecting Leo to place his own within it. “I can’t draw your blood, can I?” he quietly asks. “That makes it harder.”

 

“What about inside my body?” Leo asks, turning to Rei. “Can I bite my own tongue?”

 

“Unlikely. Does it hurt when you have sex?”

 

Natsume’s face flushes pink. “Lord Rei!”

 

“Well, it’s a logical question, if we’re talking about anything _inside_ his body. If it doesn’t hurt then, it’s unlikely you’d be able to do yourself any other damage internally.”

 

“I haven’t done it since I ate the dirt,” Leo growls. “I’m not always on my back!”

 

Rei shrugs. “No need to turn it into an insult, it’s just a question. Go on, then, you can try to bite your own tongue, but I doubt it will do a thing.”

 

Leo bites his own tongue, then huffs, disappointed when it doesn’t work. “Fine. Natsume, how else? I think I can still give you some spit or piss or whatever.”

 

“Pass,” Natsume flatly says. “Don’t be disgusting. Give me your hand.”

 

Leo glares at him, then turns over both his hands, palms up. “I’d give them to you if it would help,” he says quietly. “Both my hands, and my feet, too. Please.”

 

“You can’t, so it won’t,” Natsume mutters, taking Leo’s left hand, and calmly produces a dagger, in which he immediately tries to stab through it.

 

“It won’t work,” Rei sighs as he watches the dagger nearly bend backwards. “Even magicked ones.”

 

“Damn. Well, fine.” The dagger turns back on himself instead, albeit unhappily. The blood from his own sliced palm drips onto Leo’s as Natsume squeezes his hand tightly into a fist above it, exhaling a slow breath at the sting of it. Almost immediately, the glowing lines of soul, magic, power, bond, and pact all whirl to colorful life in front of Natsume’s eyes. “Mmn…hm.”

 

“Does that mean it’s working?” Leo asks eagerly, sitting up. “Does that mean they’re alive?”

 

“Stop moving around. It _means_ there is a lot of spellwork around you,” Natsume mutters, the different cords and colors reflecting in his gaze as he leans forward, squinting. “For one reason or another.” He reaches out, touching delicate fingers to Leo’s throat—less to the skin, more to the strange, intense layer of magic there, glowing bright white. “Interesting.”

 

Rei leans over, curious in spite of himself, and rests a hand onto Natsume’s shoulder to let his Sight better transfer over. “Ah! That’s when I met him for the first time, in the Sandlands. Well, not the _first_ -first time.”

 

“It’s a fairly permanent life-mending spell. Fascinating. This…” Natsume’s hand drops to the next string, a thicker, heavier golden cord. “That’s the bond. And these…these are probably the pacts you’ve sworn, I think. They look like Ritsu’s work, but only some of them meet and connect.”

 

“Half-bloods,” Rei says. “But he would cast it, nonetheless.”

 

“…If any of these are to Arashi, it’s obscured,” Natsume says after a moment’s eyeballing, his mouth twisting. “Either on purpose or…because he’s too far away. Pacts aren’t like bonds; their accuracy dwindles after a certain distance.”

 

“But it would disappear if he’s dead, right?” Leo asks, a little less frantic. “Could he have gone North, then? Like Eichi said? Can you see my baby? It’s magic to make a baby, right?”

 

“…It would disappear if he was dead, yes,” Natsume settles upon after a moment of poking and prodding at the one _real_ pact he can actually see, which seems to stretch thinner and thinner, all the way back to the Capital. “So…while I don’t want to say the previous Emperor might be telling the truth…yes, he could have gone North, I suppose.” He frowns, leaning back. “Who told you it was magic to make a baby? Babies are just babies.”

 

“Natsume, be kind.”

 

“Well, they are. There’s no magic involved.”

 

“Why couldn’t Mama find him, though?” Leo asks, frowning a little now that his most immediate worry is soothed. “Wait, is there seriously a bond connecting me and Rei but not me and Izumi? We’ve done all kinds of blood oaths, though, and he’s done magic on me a thousand times. I broke my arm when I was ten and he fixed it, it’s one of the first times I ever saw magic. I mean, he’s fixed a lot more since then, but that’s how far back it goes!”

 

“…this one _is_ from Izumi, you idiot king,” Natsume deadpans, flicking the layer of magic at Leo’s throat harder than absolutely necessary, and wishing he could feel it. “You must’ve nearly died pretty spectacularly.”

 

“All of my magic has been erased from your body, for better or for worse,” Rei faux-cheerfully chimes in. “I, foolishly, agreed to certain things with Eichi. As to why Madara can’t find him—there seem to be several concealments over the area. They could be coming from the North, not Eichi. It’s difficult to pinpoint their source at this point.”

 

“But Izumi and Arashi are definitely alive,” Leo repeats, as if clinging to it like a lifeline in the ocean. “They’re alive, so it’s fine, because Arashi would never let anything happen to Izumi when he was alive, and Izumi would never let anything happen to our baby when he was alive. So…they went North. And…I just made _such_ an ass of myself to Eichi, ugh, I hate being the one that’s wrong.”

 

Rei and Natsume exchange a glance with one another, and Natsume lets the power around Leo fade back to nothingness. “I mean…they’re alive, that’s…objectively true,” Natsume carefully says. “But—“

 

“Yes, they’re alive,” Rei interrupts before Natsume can rile Leo up again and scare him. “That much is clear. I’m sure we’ll find them within the day, Leo, and we can go from there. I wouldn’t write off that Eichi has done something less than appropriate at this point, though. Casting spellwork of that kind upon you—that was unnecessary, and undoubtedly, not with entirely pure intentions.”

 

“But I jumped to soooo many conclusions,” Leo groans, scrubbing at his face. “But why wouldn’t he let me look for Izumi?”

 

“It’s not just him,” Madara says from the tent’s entrance. “I smelled Arashi’s blood in his tent, but the other one was in there, too.”

 

“The other one?” Rei glances back to Madara. “Hiyori?” He can only be referring to one creature, of course.

 

“That’s proof enough that he did something, isn’t it?” Natsume presses.

 

Rei grimaces. “Not necessarily. Madara, did you see anything else? Or did you just smell his blood? There could be a number of reasons for that, unfortunately.”

 

“I just smelled it,” Madara admits. “But you know they’re guilty, they’ve got to be. And I _like_ Arashi.”

 

“As much as I am utterly and completely inclined to feel Eichi is guilty of every sin…I can’t try and convict him without proof,” Rei says with a heavy sigh, raking a hand back through his hair. “And I can’t _force_ a damned thing out of him, not in the state I’m currently in. He smelled stronger, too, when I walked by the inn to meet you. Leo, had he fed recently? And from who, do you know?”

 

“He said he fed from Izumi,” Leo says with a grimace. “He said they both liked it, and he treated Izumi really well. I mean…he could have, right? Ah, he’s so mad at me, I feel like I’m going to be sick.”

 

“He’s a generous lover when he feels like being that, certainly—“

 

“Gross, gross, gross,” Natsume mutters, lifting his hands to cover his ears. “I don’t want to hear about that!”

 

“Right, right, sorry.” Rei sighs, leaning forward to rest a hand atop Leo’s head. “There are ways to stifle that bond’s influence over you, even without my thrall. It isn’t magic, but it’s control over your own mind and being—meditation, more or less. Do you want to learn? It might help, with situations like these.”

 

“But…he wouldn’t like it…” Leo bites his lip, then sags down, the bags under his eyes drooping. “Rei…I don’t know how much longer I can do this. With him. Being everything, to everyone.”

 

“…Natsume, why don’t you go? I can take it from here.”

 

Natsume nods, picking himself up with a last, wary look back at Leo and slipping from the tent, no matter how he feels decidedly naked minus his Nightcloak. Rei tucks the offending cloak away, and unties his own to firmly settle it about Leo, blanketing him in heavy velvet and fur. “Leo. Who cares if he doesn’t like it? He has no place using a bond like this. This is what I was afraid of.”

 

The weight helps Leo feel not quite so lost, and he shudders, pulling the heavy cloak around himself as he curls up into a ball. “I’ve spent…so much time reassuring him,” he says softly, staring at nothing, “but I know, you know? I know that he’s…complicated. I know he’s manipulating me. I never asked for this, you know.”

 

“I know. No one _asks_ for a bond. Well, some do,” Rei idly revises, rising to his feet to retrieve his tea kettle, and pour the remains of steaming water over already thrice-brewed tea leaves. “But they rarely get what they want. Neither of you asked for this. He didn’t want you, and you didn’t want him. Unfortunately…he has far more leverage to use against you, being who he is, and how strong he is. Even if he cares for you, it’s inevitable that he’ll do that.”

 

“The only leverage I ever had was to kill myself,” Leo mumbles, and buries his face in the pillow. “And he even took that away from me. Which is weird, and I think rude.”

 

“We’re not going to try that again,” Rei firmly says, fanning some of the steam from his cup as he sits back down next to Leo. “Even if you could. This is why I think it would be good for you to learn how to use your side of the bond more. This is how Shu and I managed, before we were able to create magical walls to seal it off. Sometimes, with extremely powerful bonds, it’s necessary; otherwise, you really will start going insane with how affected you are by your other half’s emotions.”

 

“Yes!” Leo pokes his head out of the cloak. “Teach me how to not go insane, please. I’m already insane enough for the realm, I think. I don’t need to add scrambled egg brains or being hard every time he wants me to do something.”

 

“Oh, that’s relatable. And _I’m_ the dominant half of it; I can’t imagine how Shu must have felt every time _I_ wanted to burst into tears.”

 

“He told me he got so frustrated he compiled and illustrated an encyclopedia of flowers,” Leo says fondly. “Hey, Rei? Am I the dominant half? Or the other one?”

 

“Ahh, we’re not going to talk about Shu or I’m going to get upset, sorry for even bringing him up,” Rei hums, hastily sipping too-hot tea to cut himself off. “You are the submissive half, almost certainly. No, it’s not a sex thing.”

 

Leo sulks. “If it had been, I would have known the answer. That sucks. I’m the king. Ugh. Teach me how to not become an encyclopedia because he’s trying to dominate my brain or whatever. Teach me how to keep him in line without him making that face.”

 

“…Which face, dare I ask?”

 

“The…” Leo is good at impressions, he reminds himself, and immediately puts on his best _Oh, I see how it is, it’s fine, I’m an abused little puppy who could totally help you if you were nice but you’re hating me and I’m going to make you realize it_ face.

 

“Ahhh. _That_ face. I don’t miss that face.” This is a decent distraction, Rei has to exhaustedly remind himself. If he’s at least helping Leo, he can avoid thinking about what he can’t control. “Even if your half of the bond supports less, it’s possible to make it a more even give-and-take. The only reason he’s been able to become _this_ manipulative with it is because he constantly toys with it. I know you’ve done it, the whole…I’m-going-to-try-and- _feel_ -something-super-hard-so-he-can’t- _help_ -but-notice-me routine. Am I wrong?”

 

Leo nods slowly. “It’s weird,” he finally says. “Like I’m trying to do magic, but I don’t know how. It kind of feels like trying to lift a third arm out of your chest, but you feel stupid, because you don’t have one. Humans who bond don’t usually feel them, right? But I do.”

 

“Correct. Not unless they break, then that’s a whole other issue,” Rei says with a flutter of a hand. “There are a few reasons why you have started to feel it—well, first of all, maybe you aren’t feeling the bond itself, but the residuals of it. Those highly amped up emotions, the weight of _his_ magic…things along those lines. Alternatively, if you are feeling the bond itself, that could be explained by the paladin lines the royal family has. Either their powers are helping you feel it, or…well, those lines are reacting negatively. He _is_ an archdemon, after all.”

 

“I thought he was an angel when I was little,” Leo says wistfully, remembering how Eichi had seemed enormous, glowing, invincible. “No one ever told me there were no such things, only demons so strong we can’t see how dark they are on the inside.”

 

“Poetic, if not vaguely racist.”

 

“Live with it, you people eat my people,” Leo says grumpily.

 

“Are you lumping me in with _archdemons?”_

 

“You drink blood! You literally drink the blood of humans, how is that not your people eating my people?”

 

“Only from willing participants!” Rei looks scandalized. “And that’s a _far_ cry from what archdemons do. They will eat an entire human’s soul, whether they want them to or not. Sometimes, the entire flesh as well.”

 

“I still don’t think it’s unfair,” Leo points out, “to say that anyone who is people is on one side, and people who _eat_ people are on the other. You’re in a grey area, I’ll give you that, but you’re still…that.”

 

“…For your sake, I’m going to stop talking about this,” Rei begins, his tone perhaps _too_ neutral. “Especially because _I_ , the Demon King, am on your side and not at all a grey area. But let it be known I’m offended at your sweeping generalization, especially when you’re asking for my help.”

 

“I was _talking_ about _Eichi_ ,” Leo protests, flopping facedown again. “You’re the one who made it a race thing! But, sure, throw my poetry aside, I’m used to that from my counselors.”

 

“You lumped me in with archdemons, it was very clear. I—” Rei’s jaw clenches before he forces himself to take a sip of tea. “Never mind. Moving forward. It’s difficult for non-magic users to grasp and control their bonds, certainly. The fact you can feel as much of it as you already do bodes well. Has Natsume shown it to you before? He can visualize such things.”

 

All this talk of it makes it impossible for him not to reach out, lifting a corner of the barrier between himself and Shu’s bond to reach out and touch. _Tell me to calm down._ Maybe if Shu does it, he’ll refocus, and stop being quite so on edge, never mind the circumstances.

 

 _Why are you yelling at the king?_ Shu’s voice comes in immediately. _You’re being sensitive, my lord. Look at him with your Sight, he’s being ripped apart. It’s that monster’s fault._

 

“Rei…” Leo gnaws absently on the corner of Rei’s pillow. “No, Natsume hasn’t taught me anything. He hates me, too.”

 

_I know very well it’s that monster’s fault. And I know very well I’m being sensitive, but I’m not here to be scolded, considering the circumstances. Just—tell me to calm down._

 

“Natsume doesn’t hate you,” Rei mildly says. “He thinks _you_ hate _him_. I didn’t ask if he had taught you anything; I asked if he had _shown_ you anything. You can’t learn magic like a wizard. At best, you’d learn like an Enhanced. Luckily, I’ve taught a few of those before.”

 

 _Calm down,_ Shu thinks at him, and soothing energy eases out over the bond, washing gently over Rei, melting some of the crackling electricity of tension. _Calm down. You are loved, you are safe, you are with me._

 

“Uhm…no. I don’t think so.” Leo frowns. “Unless he did, and I forgot, or I was distracted.”

 

Rei takes a deep breath, finishes off his tea, and leans back, forcibly _letting_ Shu’s words and presence—even miles and miles away—do its work. He has to, if he’s going to be sane. _I wish I was with you._ “That’s fine. Well, I know he’s told you about it. About how it’s growing back, with one side of it much stronger than the rest? That’s Eichi’s side of it, of course, because he’s constantly trying to use it. Your side is so much more easily influenced because you aren’t flexing those particular muscles, so to speak.”

 

“Oh! Yeah!” Leo flexes his arms. “Like this one is a lot stronger from archery. Or Arashi is a lot stronger than, like, anyone. Because he’s always flexing.”

 

“Sure, along those lines.” Rei sets his teacup aside. “Unfortunately, I can’t touch you magically to help ease this process,” he says. “Eichi and I made a pact. I can try and guide you through the process of it, though.”

 

“You shouldn’t make pacts about people without their permission, but sure,” Leo says with a shrug, shaking his head as if a fly is buzzing around, feeling the weird residual ache of the bond throbbing inside him. “How do I flex on him?”

 

“…It was to protect Shu, so you’ll have to forgive me this time.”

 

The wall on his own bond seals shut again. At least he feels slightly more refocused, even if that niggling anxiety about Kaoru and their _child_ won’t go away. “You’ve probably done it before. Focus on one particular emotion you’re feeling—either about him, or one you want to send _to him_ in order to make him understand. It’s best if you start with something highly emotional—something that has upset you in the past, or something you really find endearing about him. I can’t imagine the latter, but to each his own.”

 

“The bond with him…” Leo swallows hard. “It’s always been mostly about sex. And guilt, but that might be mostly me. If it’s like that, would remembering something like that work best of all? I have a lot of strong memories…”

 

“It has to be something you’ve felt towards him, to start. Not something that _happened_ , but an emotion, does that make sense?” Rei asks, and adds, wryly, “As much as it might have been about sex, sex isn’t an emotion, unfortunately.”

 

Leo opens his mouth to protest, but he’s been doing an awful lot of that, for someone who’s supposed to be learning. He sighs, and thinks, tapping his face against Rei’s pillow. “How about his nickname for me? I always feel, um, a lot of something that isn’t an emotion, when that…”

 

“Leo. You can be very frank with me, and for the sake of this exercise, it would be easier if you would be.”

 

“Eh? I thought I was?” Leo laughs. “Yeah. Whenever he calls me that nickname…big emotion. And I get hard, too.”

 

“You said you felt a lot of something that _wasn’t_ an emotion, so you’ll need to clarify, to yourself, if it’s something different than just being turned on,” Rei says, vaguely amused. “Whatever the case—if you feel very strongly about when he calls you that, focus on it. Think about how it makes you feel, and try to think about that in his direction. Not _where_ he is, at the inn right now, but just him, as a being. I know, that’s vague and terrible, but all you can do is try.”

 

 _Warmth_. That’s the first thing that comes to Leo’s mind, but it has nothing to do with the crackle of a campfire, or the baking of his skin on a summer day. It’s a warmth blossoming from within, different from the heat he feels when Eichi rakes his eyes over him. This is a warmth that says _he’s only looking at me, the most powerful creature in the world is only here for me, Eichi wants me, we share something secret that no one else can touch,_ every time Eichi gives him that look and whispers, _“Kitty…”_

 

A pause, and then a peculiar, inquisitive thrum slides back.

 

“Success?” Rei asks, his head tilted. “You’ll have to tell me, this is something only you can feel.”

 

“I, I think so!” Leo opens his eyes, and beams. “He did something back, some kind of…question mark.”

 

“Good! That’s a start, for sure.” Rei leans forward. “You have to start bothering him through the bond _all the time._ He has a headstart on you, and an advantage, because of his own power. That being said, he’s clumsy about it. Not everyone is a natural when it comes to the resonant bonds they form.”

 

Leo’s eyes light up. “Is this something I can be better than him at? I really like being better than powerful people. Want me to do it again?” _Kitty_ , says Eichi in his mind, and that’s it, isn’t it? This time, he feels a spot in his heart—not like a physical lump, but _almost_ a physical lump, more like finding the drain in a bathtub, finally seeing where all of that energy has been going. This time, more firmly, he pokes at the hole, and feels Eichi _notice_ on the other end. “I’m doing _magic_ ,” he says to Rei, smug and very important.

 

“In a sense, yes,” Rei says with a laugh, leaning over to gently ruffle Leo’s hair. “If you work on it enough, you can become quite adept. To be truly better than him, you’ll want to work on actually conveying a message through it. That’s as close to telepathy as most non-magical humans can come, without additional magical enhancement.”

 

“What else does strengthening it do?” Leo asks eagerly, butting up affectionately into Rei’s hand. “Tell me all the things I can do! I’m going to get _really_ good at this, he’s going to be happy—“ He claps a hand over his mouth, sheepish. “Er…that’s not why I’m doing it…”

 

Rei pauses, though his hand doesn’t stop its slow, even petting of Leo’s hair. “Do you love him?” he asks neutrally. “I’m curious.”

 

“I have no idea,” Leo says immediately. “Seriously. I think sometimes I do…but he’s done some _really_ bad things. Not questionable. Bad. But he’s done a lot of amazing things, too? And it’s not like…as much as you might want to, it’s not like you can ever really say how you feel about someone just from what they’ve done, right? Izumi’s done some bad things, I’ve done bad things. So that’s really just something I keep saying to avoid answering the question.”

 

“…There’s a difference between the bad things Eichi has done and the bad things you’ve done,” Rei quietly points out, tucking a strand of wild red hair behind Leo’s ear. “But that aside, you should still be able to answer the question of whether you love him or not.”

 

“Should I?” Leo looks up at Rei, green eyes huge. “I don’t know what love is, then. Honestly. Is it just what you feel when you’re around someone you like? I don’t know. I feel…so much, when he’s around, that I can’t tell what’s what. And when he’s gone, I miss him, but it also _hurts_ , so is that the problem?”

 

“The bond isn’t making it easier for you to understand things around him, I’m sure. This is why…” _This is why I blocked it, why I thralled you._ It’s moot to still be frustrated about those things, because there’s nothing he can do now, but it still is _aggravating._ Ah, he’s reaching his limit of this particular kind of frustration, too. “Mm. It doesn’t feel the same way around him as it does Izumi, does it?”

 

“Of course not. Izumi is Izumi.”

 

“…Everyone’s perception of ‘love’ is different, of course,” Rei softly says, leaning back. “But—in my case. It’s very easy for me to say that I love both Kaoru and Shu, deeply and truly. With Kaoru, it’s a love from years and years of being together, shared experiences, and simply enjoying him, and vice versa. With Shu, the bond…certainly amplified it, but ‘love at first sight’ comes to mind. He knows me, inside and out, and I him. I’m not saying you _need_ to quantify and qualify how you love Izumi, or how you _might_ love Eichi…but if you can’t think of the ways that you even _might_ be in love with Eichi, then you need to accept your bond as a tool, or a leash, not a red string, and start manipulating him as much as he’s manipulating you.”

 

Leo falls silent, and curls up again, pulling the cloak around himself. For a few long moments, he just breathes, and listens to himself breathe, before he starts to talk. “I think…if I didn’t love him…I wouldn’t feel so guilty,” he says softly. “I like the way he talks to me. I like the way he advises me. I like the way he sees the long picture in ways that I don’t, and I love the way he touches me. I like that he’s clever, and doesn’t let himself get caught up in little things, or let his feelings get hurt.”

 

The bond in his chest pulses, warmth radiating from him, spiraling away from him down that little cord. “Everyone thinks I’m blind or stupid, but I’m not, Rei. I’m a king. And he is, too. And so few…so few people know what that feels like.”

 

Rei’s mouth twists into a wry little smile. “I don’t think you’re blind or stupid, Leo. If I did…we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I’m a king, too, lest you forget about it. The problem is…you need to pick something, and soon.” He leans forward, eyebrows raising. “Is he the dog of the king, or is he _a_ king?”

 

“…If he’s a dog, he’s a scheming jackal,” Leo admits. “He was never working for me. He knows it, and I know it. This is all…pretty obviously his plan.”

 

“You’re misunderstanding me. What I mean is—is he working under you, or is he your equal? You can’t treat him one way one day and the other way the next and expect him to behave the same. He’ll not only resent it, but he _will_ work against you…case and point,” Rei wearily says, waving a hand. “Pick one. Make him work for you and keep him at a distance, or he’s your equal. If you love him, then he’s your equal, and you can’t put a leash on him. It’s the only way you’ll get him to stop plotting behind your back.”

 

“But he thinks he knows better than me,” Leo says, and realizes only at this moment that that is the real problem. “And he’ll never agree that my opinions matter as much as his. I thought that keeping him under me was the only way to sort of…keep him back with me, a little.”

 

“Oh, you’re right. He’s always been like that,” Rei says, heaving a weary sigh. “The solution, unfortunately, is outsmarting him. Or at the very least, twisting what he wants around to what you want. He has to think he’s in charge.”

 

“Too much work. Find a better solution.”

 

“Fine. Give it up now. You’ll lose him to Wataru in an instant.”

 

“But I can’t, we have a bond!”

 

“Sure you can. That bond will be there and he’ll use his brute strength to control it. And now you can’t even kill yourself, because he’s already cast a spell on you that makes it impossible for you to be a threat to him or yourself.”

 

The bottom drops out of Leo’s stomach. “That sounds…deeply unpleasant,” he says faintly.

 

“It is. Archdemons don’t have bonds to humans—which means he’s not a typical archdemon. He’s something else entirely, far stronger, and we do _not_ want to give him the chance to do that to you. Even without the bond, he’d be a problem for you. He was for _me_.So if you’re worried…good.” Rei sucks in a slow breath. “Right, then, options. Give up. Let him do…whatever he wants to do. He might ignore you. He might decide you’re a fun concubine. You could strike a deal with him to maybe leave you be, to the extent a bonded can be left be. Then let us deal with him. Or…try to control him, but properly. Let him think he’s in charge, and get better at manipulating him. Or, finally, decide you are actually in love with him, and use that to your advantage.”

 

Slowly, Leo stands, and drifts out of the tent, hardly realizing what he’s doing until he’s doing it, running full-tilt for the trees. It’s easy to evade Madara’s grabbing hands if he really wants to, easy to ignore the way rocks feel sharp under his feet when they don’t actually cut his skin. People are calling for him, but it doesn’t matter, nothing matters but running, dodging, walling off that place in his heart, finding somewhere that he can properly _think_ , making all of them just _Leave. Him. Alone_ for once.

 

“Just let him go,” Rei says to Madara with a sigh, drifting back to the front of the tent to watch Leo leave. “It’s not like anything can _happen_ to him right now…physically, at any rate.” He plucks up his cloak, unknowingly discarded when Leo made a run for it. “If you went and dropped Eichi into a volcano right now, I don’t think it would be…unwise.”

 

“Fun,” Madara says with a sigh. “It would be fun. Maybe I will, just a little. That shouldn’t start a war, just one little volcano drop, right?”

 

“…If you drop him on the Northern gate first, do you think it’ll close?” Rei mildly asks. “Just, out of spite or something.”

 

“I have no idea,” Madara says, shoulders shrugging. “Sorrow’s Gates are kind of modern for me.”

 

“I didn’t expect a real answer, it’s fine.” Rei falls silent for a moment, then grabs Madara’s hand, and tugs. “I’m hungry and cold, come remedy this.”

 

Madara wavers. “After that,” he says finally, “we need to go find Arashi. He’s the one that summoned me, you know? I like that kid a lot.”

 

“Several of my own enjoy his company as well. But he isn’t dead, so says my prophet and your cousin, and I’m useless to help you, unless fed.” _And I need a distraction, or I’m going to go crazy._

 

Madara’s hand comes up, cupping Rei’s chin, tilting his head up. “You still reek of him,” he says mildly. “Come fly with me, get the smell out of my nose. Then I’ll feed you.”

 

Rei hesitates. Eichi isn’t handled, no part of him or the situation is under control, Kaoru is still gone without a word about their child, he’s no more knowledgable about the Northern gate than when he started, Wataru possibly turned, Natsume is so stressed he can barely focus—

 

 _Don’t begrudge me this, I just need to feed._ “…All right, but not for too long.” He exhales. “I don’t want to smell like him, either.”

 

Without another word, they’re in the air, soaring above the encampment until each building is nothing but a dark speck.

 

Leo lays in the forest, watching the dragon soar overhead, feeling thoughts trickle out of his mind. Nothing is good. Nothing makes sense. He’s either pawn or manipulator, traitor or betrayed, user or quarry, just as he has been his whole life.

 

 _But that isn’t fair,_ he wants to rage, to yell, even as he lays limply on a bed of pine needles and snow. _It’s like that in politics, why does it have to be like that in my heart?_

 

It wasn’t always. Once, there had just been Izumi, who loves him for who he is, who falters and stumbles but always rights himself, who would do anything, become anything for him. Leo’s eyes sting, and he doesn’t blink them when he stares at the sun. Nothing can hurt him, anyway. Why not let himself be blinded?

 

 _Maybe the priests were right after all,_ he thinks, for the first time in a decade. _Maybe it is a sin, what I feel for him, and this is my judgement._

 

Maybe then, he should just stay here, lying on the snow, watching the dragon grow smaller and smaller as he rises high above the forest, and the sun makes its slow way across the sky. Maybe if he just stays here, he won’t hurt anyone else anymore.

 

“You called?”

 

The sound of footsteps don’t precede Eichi’s arrival, and the odd shadowing of the forest makes it perhaps even more disturbing that he simply appears out of the blue, leaning over Leo, eyebrows raised. “You’re being noisy. And you kept poking. You left me all alone and in such a hurry.”

 

Leo closes his eyes, bringing a hand up over his face. “You could just overwhelm me, right?” he asks softly. “Turn me into your happy, boring concubine? I’m tired. This is a good time for it.”

 

Eichi’s head cocks slowly to the side, sort of reptilian in the unnatural way it tilts. “You’ve been talking to Rei, I see.”

 

“Yeah. Are you gonna do it?”

 

Eichi pauses, looking at him contemplatively. “I’d prefer,” he says slowly, “for you not to be a mindless pile of sludge. I can fuck that anywhere.”

 

“But if I don’t do what you want,” Leo says quietly, “then you’ll tell yourself you have no other choice. I can’t be made to see reason, right? So you’ll do what you have to do. Because we don’t agree. So you’ll find someone you really love, and keep me around for my bond, and turn me into a puppet, and rule the throne in everything but name, and scoop out my insides like soft cream. Because what you have to do is more important than any one person, no matter how much you care for them. Have I got that right?”

 

“…Ah. You really do think poorly of me, don’t you? Or you’ve been listening to Rei too much, one of the two.” Eichi crouches down, peering at him. “You’re not entirely right.”

 

“Tell me.” Leo’s voice is hardly above a whisper. “Be honest. I can’t even kill myself, right? So you have nothing to fear from me.”

 

“I don’t want you to be a puppet. I want you to do as I say on your own accord. Or for at least…us to come to an understanding. An agreement.” Eichi reaches out, fingers careful, gentle as he pushes a strand of hair out of Leo’s face. “You make that very difficult for me.”

 

“Yeah. I’m difficult. All my tutors say so.” Leo stares up, feeling his insides ache. “I love you. I don’t know if that makes it better or worse for you. But I do. I thought about it for a while. Isn’t that stupid? Why would the gods give us bonds, _and_ the power to love?”

 

“That’s a distraction from the conversation at hand,” Eichi softly says. “If you loved me, you’d give me what I wanted.”

 

Leo stares, then his eyes cloud. “If I do, what happens?” _Give in,_ his mind whispers. _Give in give in GIVE IN GIVEINGIVEINGIVEING—_

 

“You’re adorable. You didn’t even ask what I wanted.”

 

“You know what I want, though. I’ve told you a hundred times. To protect the realm, and those I love. And if you’re so focused on getting what you want…then it’s not what I want, and I’m going to have to…make a bad choice.” Leo’s voice catches, and a few hot tears spill out of his eyes, running down the sides of his face.

 

“You automatically assume that I don’t want to protect this place, though,” Eichi defensively says, leaning back with an exasperated sigh. “Don’t _cry_. That hurts.”

 

“Fuck you, I’ll cry if I want. Why do you have to be _bad_?” Leo asks plaintively. “Think how great this could be if you were…not bad.”

 

“And yet, archdemons have told me that I’m far too kind and far too human,” Eichi huffs, flopping down onto the ground entirely. “I want the Northern gate closed,” he finally says, wrapping an arm around one of his knees. “I don’t want demons flooding into this world. I _like_ it here. The insinuation I’m going to blow this place to smithereens or what have you—I have no interest in that.”

 

“And beyond that?” Leo asks, and it takes every single bit of energy and focus he has not to immediately reach out for Eichi. “Just…tell me, if you don’t want me assuming things. You talk so vaguely about taking back what’s yours, I don’t know what it all means. I’m really young compared to you, but I’m not stupid.”

 

“The Academy.” It escapes as a hiss, and Eichi’s eyes narrow. “I’ve told you before. You can have your crown, I just want _mine._ I’ll even bow to you, but I want what’s _mine._ ”

 

Leo blinks slowly. “Wait. You were serious? I thought you were just making something up so I wouldn’t notice the real truth of you trying to sink the entire realm into the sea or something. You really just want the wizard school?”

 

“It’s mine! I made it. I want it back and I want it to be _mine_ , without control of the crown leeching its way in.” Eichi scowls. “How would you feel if you were usurped from the throne and left with nothing, after all of your hard work?”

 

“If whoever it was was running it correctly?” Leo sighs. “That sounds _wonderful_.”

 

“Ugh. No wonder you can’t understand.”

 

Leo bites his lip, then slowly sits up, knees to his chest, eyes unfocused. “That’s…my first answer. But not the true one. It’s the one I think sounds best, don’t you agree?”

 

Eichi stares back at him, his fingers drumming slowly against his knee. “Perhaps,” he lowly drawls, “I am not the only habitually dishonest one here.”

 

“Rude. Horrible. True enough.”

 

“So then perhaps you should say what you want, instead of being as hypocritical as a demon, hmm?”

 

Leo lifts his head, and meets Eichi’s eyes, resolve hardening behind them. “I want to be a great king,” he says, voice quiet, but sure. “I want to shape this country into a better one, the way that _I_ want it to be. I want to live my life as I want to, with no regrets and no secrets. I want to have _everything_ that I want! I want to have the power to stop people from abusing others! I want to drive back the demons, and the Inglings, and anyone who would dare to cross my people! I want to be the greatest king since my great-grandfather—no, since my ancestor Albion! I want them to remember my name for a thousand years!”

 

“Then work _with me,_ ” Eichi presses immediately, his eyes alight as he leans forward, his face eager, hungry. “What’s the use living in doubt? Rei and everyone that serves him, that’s all they’ll ever bring you—doubt, and assumptions that I’ll betray you. If you give me what I want—the Academy—I won’t. Did I ever betray your father? Your grandfather? Your _great-grandfather?_ I’ll back you and your goals. We’ll go North, I’ll close the gate and pay my debts to my grandson, and we can go back to the Capital and be _done_ with this.”

 

Leo hesitates. “Just because I want it doesn’t mean it’s right, though,” he says, worrying at his lower lip. “But—no, that’s not what I want to say.” He firms his shoulders. “What I want to say is, that’s what I want, but I won’t use _any_ means to get there. I won’t step on a single citizen of my realm to accomplish those goals, or they wouldn’t mean anything, and I don’t deserve to attain them. Can you swear to that? If you do, Eichi—“ The longing is in Leo’s voice now, and he hugs his knees tight. “We’ll have _decades_ to shape the country the way I want to. Maybe longer, I know my line is long-lived. It doesn’t have to be bloody and all at once, it can be resolute, certain progress towards what we both want, and no one will even _want_ to go against us! I’m not so stupid that I can’t see how you’d be the best ally, the best partner I could ever have, you know!”

 

“It can be however you want.” Eichi’s voice is low and calm, but his stare remains intent. “I’ll do it however you want. If you want it bloodless, fine. But you’re not giving an inch on what _I_ want, which is the Academy.”

 

Leo licks his lips, thinking fast. “I respect that,” he says slowly. “Rei doesn’t want to be here anymore. He has to go back to the Shadowlands, and I think the only other person who could take over for him is Shu, and he’ll go with Rei, so…it seems kind of logical. Can you wait, if I immediately start facilitating it? And, _and_ , can you promise me it won’t be like it was before?”

 

“I can accept some…modifications, but it won’t be like it is right now. I won’t stand for it.”

 

“What do you hate about how he’s running it now? You agreed to work under me in that regard, right?” Leo slowly pokes Eichi’s leg with a foot. “Tell me what’s important about how it runs, and why. I want to know.”

 

“I don’t need to work under you about that at all,” Eichi bluntly says. “I never consulted with the king about the Academy. It was mine, before your country had cities. I’ll tell you how I will run it, but that has nothing to do with you. You aren’t a wizard. Also, I’ll only wait if I have an agreement, either in blood, magic, or writing.”

 

“Hmm.” Leo frowns, thinking that through. “There are things…hmm. It’s complicated, I agree with that, but I’d like the wizards to have a voice to my council. I know there’s a reason we had it set up like we did—wizards _can’t_ be citizens of my realm, or they’d have to answer for the deaths and damage done when they Bloom, and regular laws can’t cover what wizards can do. But I think I need to guarantee some kind of…standard of treatment for them. I have to know that they’re being treated well. A lot of trouble could have been avoided, don’t you think?”

 

“I’m fine with a standard of treatment, but you’re directly contradicting a number of laws by having wizards have a voice on your council. If you let them have a voice, you’ll have to let the Isles have a voice—and do you _really_ want to open that can of worms?” Eichi mildly asks.

 

“Oh. I do want to be the king of the Isles, though,” Leo mutters. “Because they should pay taxes or something, I came up with the plan when I’m drunk…okay, forget the voice on the council. But maybe…annual inspections, or something? I just don’t want my wizards to think I’m abandoning them to how it was before.”

 

“Intrusive and insulting. But…I’d allow it, so long as your grievances—if any are found—aren’t aired publicly.” Eichi’s eyebrows lift. “I’ll get you the Isles, if you want them. I’ll start with that prophet.”

 

“Um…no, we’re going to wait on that,” Leo says hurriedly. “But I think we’re getting closer to an answer. And you have to swear something, in a way that actually binds you, and you’re in charge of proving that to me.”

 

“And you’re in charge of making Rei hand the Academy over to me.”

 

Leo nods slowly. “If there’s a problem with that, we’ll re-negotiate. Not that I’ll give in to whatever he wants,” he says hastily. “Just that we’ll work together to facilitate the change. But I _will_ have my voice heard in the treatment of wizards. And what you have to swear to me is that if we disagree, you won’t manipulate my mind to change it. You have to do it with words and actions like everyone else. Fair enough?”

 

“…And if he refuses?” Eichi idly asks. “It’s Rei. We aren’t exactly on good terms.”

 

“He has to go back to the Shadowlands,” Leo points out. “He _has_ to. So once he’s gone, there’s no reason for me to agree with who he appoints a successor. And, you know, you don’t _have_ to be on bad terms with him, he was feeling so positive about you before you said you wanted to eat his baby! Now he won’t talk to you, and that’s your fault.”

 

“Your current Emperor has a lot of things he _has_ to do, Leo; you’d be surprised at what he won’t do, when it suits him,” Eichi blithely says, shrugging a shoulder. “And if you refuse his appointments, don’t put it past him to be spiteful. That’s all I have to say about that. It’s also not my fault his baby smells tasty.”

 

“Don’t act like an idiot,” Leo snaps. “You’re good at controlling yourself when you want to be. Now, we’ve talked long enough. Find my husband.”

 

“I’m prone to bouts of unintelligible demon rage, what can I say. That sounds like an order, besides, which I thought we just talked about.”

 

Leo slowly takes in a breath, then exhales. “Please,” he says quietly. “I’m really worried.”

 

“Go talk to Rei,” Eichi says as he climbs to his feet, brushing himself off. “And secure the Academy for me. I’ll go and find your pretty husband. Does he come when he’s called, like a cat?”

 

“Usually,” Leo says softly. “But he isn’t this time. So I’m scared. I’ll talk to Rei. He’s a reasonable man, sometimes. Oh, and Eichi?” he asks, getting to his feet as well, feet crunching in the pine needles.

 

“Hmm?”

 

Leo leans up on his tiptoes, lacing his fingers around the back of Eichi’s neck. “You didn’t say if you love me, too.”

 

The shiver that goes down Eichi’s spine is altogether distracting, terrible, and extremely _warm._ Dreadful, that. His hands automatically close about Leo’s waist, squeezing slowly as he bends, his forehead touching to Leo’s. “You’re mine,” he lowly says. “Of course I love you.”

 

“Tell me why.”

 

“I just did. Don’t ask stupid questions.”

 

Leo’s face falls. “Is that it?”

 

“No, idiot. You’re also fairly cute, I guess.”

 

Leo drops his arms, and turns away, the coldness starting to seep in again. Exhausting. Even when it seems like it’s going somewhere, Eichi always manages to make him feel horrible about himself, no matter what.

 

“It was a joke!” Eichi hastily says, crouching down to be more of Leo’s height. “Honestly, am I not allowed to joke? Just when I think I’ve got the hang of this human thing, ugh.”

 

“Quit making me work for it!” Leo says angrily, dashing upset tears from his stupid, traitorous eyes. “You always do that, you make me expose my whole heart and then you just—you make light of it! You make me beg for affection, it’s sick!”

 

“I—I didn’t think I was? I’m sorry, all right, I am!”

 

Leo thunks his head against Eichi’s chest, and stays there. “You make me feel like shit,” he whispers, eyes squeezed tightly shut. “I—I love you, I do, so much, but there’s always _something_ that makes me hate myself, like you _always_ have to do one thing that just…drives people away, why are you like that? You couldn’t just tell me something? You couldn’t just keep your mouth shut around Rei? You couldn’t just find Izumi last night instead of putting me off and making me think something horrible happened, and I was horrible for wanting to find him?”

 

“…You know,” Eichi begins after a long pause, his fingers curling in a slow squeeze against Leo’s arms, “that’s probably not going to change. I’m old. I’m a little bit your mortal enemy. Above that, I’m not human. I fake it decently, most days, but I’m just not, Leo. I _do_ try, but I’m not going to see things the same way you will.”

 

“But you’re making everything so much harder for yourself,” Leo whispers. “You’re making everything so much harder for me—there’s a lot of people who _hated_ you, because you did horrible things to them and their families, and I’m about to spit in their faces. Can’t you just…”

 

He grabs Eichi’s hand, and drags it to his own chest, over the beat of his heart. “I know you’re older than I can comprehend. But can’t you just…try to live, and grow, like a human, just while I’m alive? Be here, with me, while my heart beats, and just…try to see things the way I do? You don’t have to agree, but try to see what I’m seeing, and feeling.”

 

“Leo. I’m not going to let you die.”

 

Eichi pulls back after giving Leo’s hand a squeeze, straightening and readjusting his cloak. “I’ve lived and grown like a human. I’ve played that game. This is how I am, and I’ll play along with some things…but I have no desire to reinvent myself. You wanted honesty, you’ll have it—or we can go back to playing games. Figure out which one you want after you talk to Rei, and I’ll work on bringing your pretty snake home.”

 

“More choices,” Leo grumbles, and sighs, turning away. “Fine. But the next time I see you, you’d better have a list of things you love about me. Or admit that it really just is the bond, and you’d rather be with Wataru after all.”

 

“Oh, it’s the bond,” Eichi airily tosses back. “Just like it is the bond for you, I wager. We’d both rather be with only one person. But ah, thus is life. I love you, and the way you insist on continuing to argue with me all the same.”

 

“Dumbass!” Leo hisses, shoving his hands in his pockets, face hot where he’s blushing. “Stupid dumbass! I hope Izumi eats you, I hope you fall in poop!”

 

“Unlikely,” Eichi cheerfully says, fluttering a hand in a wave. “Be good for me, tell Rei what he needs to hear!”

 

“Bring my husband back and I’ll forgive you for being a shit head!” Leo calls over his shoulder, and takes off at a run, thoroughly embarrassed, and feeling somehow, still better.

 


	30. Chapter 30

 

The snow in the Hinterlands falls in thick, heavy sheets, almost as if there are handfuls of it being thrown down by the gods above. Well, that’s a stupid thing to compare it to—there aren’t any gods, not anymore, but maybe some of his brethren are having a fun time as clouds, spitting out mouthfuls of fluffy, frozen rain.

 

Typically, the routes this way would be frozen over, and no travelers would waste their time attempting to cross them, this time of year. “That’s what makes this such an important post for you!” Rei cheerfully had informed him.

 

 _Six_ years ago.

 

To be fair, with a piece of Rei’s soul in his hands, it _had_ been important for him to be out here, far away and keeping that seedling safe while Rei hid. Releasing that seed _should_ have been the end of it, or so Rei had promised, but now, Hokuto ( _technically_ of the Hidaka clan that lives about twenty miles down the road and pretends he does not exist, save one old woman), remains.

 

Bored, cold, and grumpy, specifically, stuck in Sinner’s Grove which consists not of a grove, but of snow, one inn, and maybe some traveling merchants, if they’re lucky, amidst several paladin settlements.

 

Today is different, because many travelers arrive, none of them good, and so he lingers at the roadside, the long, blue-black braids of his hair fluttering back from the sides of his face and behind him in the sharp, cutting wind. He squints against the white fluff coming down as hard as ever, making out two bright orange spots, and then, the clank and gleam of armor, swords, and the various other implements covering horses that are also just as miserable in the snow.

 

The scent is unmistakable, and suddenly, Rei’s frantic message to him to _keep watch_ makes more sense, amidst his unusual panic. Hokuto slinks back amongst the trees, watching, head tilting back to better see—and hear, apparently, the wail of a child.

 

_A child? Here?_

 

“If you see my twins with a child come through, shelter them,” Rei had pleaded, on the heels of an apology for not contacting him in about _three_ years, but that’s Rei, and Mao, at least, brought him a new horse a year ago. The warning would have been better, far more effective, if given earlier, but that’s neither here nor there.

 

Fine. _Fine._

 

“You there,” Hokuto calls, stepping into the road, turned to slush from hooves and boots. “Leave these children be, they’re clearly trying to come in from the storm.”

 

Yuuta’s head whips back, huge green eyes pleading, the absence of fox ears and tails still doing little to disguise the clothing of a Shadowlands denizen, and the aura of his magic strong, nonetheless. The first man that looks back at Hokuto is older, perhaps in his late fifties (at least, by appearance), with long, gold hair, greying at the temples and in his beard. “These aren’t children,” he flatly snaps, hand unmoving from the sword at his hip. “They’re demons. Spiriting away a babe for a meal, no doubt.”

 

“We were informed by a higher power to intercept them,” another, younger man says, atop his enormous grey horse, as if dismounting and dealing with two foxes and a baby is beneath him. “Lucky we did, or they’d have fallen prey to the fae, _apparently._ ”

 

It’s a common jab, but one that makes heat rise to his face in irritation (or is it embarrassment? it’s hard to tell) all the same. “…There’s no way they’d be my _prey_. Let them be on their way.”

 

“We didn’t steal anyone’s baby!” Yuuta insists, no matter how his voice shakes. “We’re taking him to safety, I _swear_.”

 

“A demon’s swear means nothing,” the younger paladin snaps. “Cut its head off already, Marius.”

 

Marius—a name Hokuto is pretty sure he should know, shit—ignores his younger acquaintance in favor of looking out over the road, at the sound of approaching hoofbeats. Hokuto hesitates as well, hand falling to the sword at his own hip.

 

“Marius!” calls Kaoru, breathless with exertion as he swings out of the saddle, running the last few steps to look around, eyes wide as he takes in the scenery, the _lack_ of blood currently shed. He pants, and relaxes slightly, seeing no one dead and on the ground. Not too late. Not yet. “Thank the White Holy Gods you found them in time. Quick, no time to argue, my estate is nearby. The child will ride with me. It’s a good thing you were here, I didn’t think my message would reach you in time!”

 

One of the paladins hesitates, swept up in Kaoru’s calm confidence, and frowns at the little twins. “But…these are clearly demons.”

 

“And we’re currently in a treaty with the Shadowlands,” Kaoru says impatiently, walking over and holding out his hands to Hinata, who promptly hands over the child. “See? Child, your master sent you to ensure the safety of this child, yes? He was kidnapped by dark fae from a noble house, but the Emperor is assisting us with retrieving him. Marius, Eligor, you two idiots almost started a war.”

 

Hinata doesn’t miss a beat, nodding frantically in relief as he hands the baby over to Kaoru. “We had to leave really quickly!” he insists, turning a scowl back to the two paladins that are decidedly _un_ helpful. “These guys got upset when we tried to avoid them, but we were just doing what our master told us.”

 

“…Your master,” Eligor repeats in a deadpan, less impressed the more it’s brought up.

 

“Yes,” Hinata growls, hair almost visibly standing on end in annoyance. “Our master. The Emperor.”

 

“The Demon King,” is what is echoed, and clearly what is chosen to be focused upon. “Kaoru. Our treaty with the Shadowlands—“

 

“Applies even on grounds like these,” Hokuto interrupts, attempting to step between Kaoru and the other two paladins now at least. Kaoru clearly doesn’t know him. He doesn’t _know_ Kaoru, precisely, but he’s…aware, to say the least. “Even if this is your favorite hunting ground, that _child_ is clearly human—“

 

“We _really_ don’t need the opinion of the fae in this,” Eligor dismissively interrupts. “Kaoru. Bring that child back with us, we’ll take care of rounding up these demons.”

 

“You know who this child is?” Kaoru demands, swinging back up onto his horse one-handed, holding that precious, squirming bundle close to his chest. “No? Then don’t commit the paladins to a cause that could get us all wiped out, you know how…” He lets his lip curl. He’s good at acting like them. Too good. “ _Changeable_ the king can be these days. Go back to your patrols, I’ll make certain the fae doesn’t get into this.”

 

There’s a look exchanged between the two of them, and Marius’s hand drops to his sword with a sigh as he takes a step forward. “Off the horse, boy,” he firmly says. “And hand that child back to us. If the Demon King has taken interest, for whatever reason, we should be involved.”

 

“And it can’t be a wizard yet, so it must be some demon halfling, even if it doesn’t feel like it yet,” Eligor pipes up, leaning forward in his saddle. “Come now, Kaoru. Don’t make us report this to the council. Your daddy can only cover your ass so many times.”

 

“Eligor.”

 

“Sorry. Your…indiscretions. He can only cover your _indiscretions_ so many times.”

 

 _“If you see my twins with a child come through, shelter them”_ —it had been far more a plea than an order, but that doesn’t change the force behind it. Hokuto heaves an aggravated sigh, and draws his sword. “Twins, run now. Lord Kaoru, they’ll take you to where it’s safe.”

 

Yuuta hesitates, but Hinata snatches him up by the hand, dodging Marius’s grabbing hand and ducking back into the treeline—pointedly towards the Shadowlands, and _not_ back into the Hinterlands proper.

 

Kaoru takes that as a signal, and nods to Hokuto, mouths, _Split up!_ and kicks his horse into a canter, then a gallop, beelining the exact opposite direction from the twins.

 

This is probably not what his grandmother meant when she told him to _lie low and keep the peace,_ but working for the Demon King in any capacity usually doesn’t bring about _peace_.

 

“This must be what that messenger meant,” Eligor curses, which is the last thing he says before spurring his horse through the snow after Kaoru.

 

“Messenger?” Hokuto presses, his eyes on Marius, who briskly moves to swing himself back in the saddle.

 

“Do you really think word doesn’t travel about the Demon King’s doings?” Marius exasperatedly asks. “Go home, boy. Don’t make me kill you over his spawn.”

 

_The Demon King’s spawn?_

 

That seems unlikely, but it does explain Rei’s distress. _Whatever, I know nothing_ , Hokuto wearily thinks, and it’s with great regret that his blade is swung. Marius had a nice horse.

 

Some time later, he limps his way home, thinking of how exactly to phrase his message to Rei. Upon opening the door, the twins have found their way, curled up in front of a fire of their own making. Outside, the sound of a horse snorting and kicking snow makes him draw open the window coverings, and he opens the shutters to peer out. “This isn’t a fae’s trap,” he wryly calls out to Kaoru. “It’s safe here. I can, ah, swear something, if you’re worried about it.”

 

Admittedly, the house exists in Sinner’s Grove in such a way that it’s only visible to those that trust the fae. Maybe Kaoru shouldn’t know that.

 

Kaoru waves a hand, his face grim and drawn. The tip of his blade glistens wet and clean, as if only recently cleaned on snow, then thrust through his belt. “You feel like one of his creatures. If you’re opening the house to me now, knowing what…what I just did…” He swallows, looking shaken and pale, though his left hand never slackens on the child slumbering there. “I’ll enter any house open to me, right now. How’s that for an oath?”

 

 _His_ creatures has only one meaning. Hokuto inclines his head, and moves away from the window to the back door itself to let Kaoru inside. “At least you’re not the only one that did something stupid today,” he quietly says. “It’s only a matter of time before they find this place, but…we’ve probably got a day or two, at the most. It’s an honor to finally meet you, Lord Kaoru.”

 

“You as well. I assume you’re the rumored fae creature everyone likes to talk about as a warning?” Kaoru asks pleasantly, stepping inside and kicking the snow off his boots. “I’d offer to put wards up, but I think…that particular ship has sailed on me.”

 

“Good grief,” Hokuto grouses, shedding his cloak over the back of a wooden chair before collapsing into it. “If _I’m_ fae, paladins really are losing their minds.” He looks up, suddenly exhausted. “So Eligor’s dead? I know Marius’s horse is. I might have lopped off his arm, but a talented enough surgeon could get creative with that.”

 

Kaoru grimaces. “Eligor might still live. I stabbed him through the gut. His power should keep him alive for a time, and the snow should help, too…but this is the end of my paladin aspirations either way. Please, do you have something to eat for the child? Goat’s milk, maybe? I doubt you have a wetnurse stashed away, unless this really is a Suou residence.”

 

At that, one orange-haired head pops up, fully revealed, furry ears twitching. “We brought some,” Hinata pipes up, diving for his pack.

 

“He seemed to like blood more,” Yuuta lightly says.

 

“That’s a lie! It’s a lie,” Hinata hastily says, looking over at Kaoru. “Don’t listen to him, it’s a bad joke.”

 

Hokuto’s eyebrows raise as he pulls up a chair for Kaoru. “What an important child,” he slowly settles upon. “Two fox demon escorts and a paladin to chase them down.”

 

“Looks like,” Kaoru agrees, not giving anything away with his tone. He’s heard of Hokuto, yes, and certainly he seems the best of a bad lot, but that doesn’t mean he trusts the man with his son’s life. _This must have been what that messenger meant_ , the paladin had said, so there is a traitor, and he doesn’t know Hokuto from a hole in the ground, has no idea if he really lopped off Marius’s arm.

 

He looks down at the child, at the golden fuzz gracing his crown, and deliberately looks away, unwilling to let his real feelings cross his face. “Thank you, Hinata. Ah, here, he’s your task, isn’t he? You were doing a good job, don’t let me interrupt,” he says, and passes the baby over, as if doing so doesn’t make his heart lurch.

 

Hinata cheerfully takes the baby from Kaoru’s arms and trots back over to the fire, bottle in hand. “Sorry that you had to come out all this way,” he tosses back over. “You’re not gonna tell Lord Rei we messed up, are you?”

 

“Because we didn’t,” Yuuta insistently says. “We were going the exact way he said, but the snow drove us off one path onto this one. We didn’t have a choice.”

 

“Considering he contacted _me_ , I’m guessing he knew you’d two would run into trouble,” Hokuto says, lingering in his chair a moment long before getting up to stretch his leg with a grimace, and hobbles over to the tea kettle. “Paladin blood’s not _that_ good for healing,” he darkly mutters. “So. I think…my grandmother knows your father. Pretty well, actually.”

 

“Tell her I’m sorry,” Kaoru says with a smile, leaning back in his chair. “Or tell her to go to hell, if she’s anything like my father. How did you get caught up in Rei’s net, apart from his attraction to anything society deems undesirable?”

 

“Rude,” Hokuto mutters, pouring them each a cup of tea which could be better, but whatever. It’ll do. He walks back over, setting each teacup down, and flops back down into his chair. “I wasn’t his special interest first,” he admits. “But he…stole me, for lack of a better word. From Wataru.”

 

“Oh. Good, that guy doesn’t seem like he’d be too good at owning anyone.” Kaoru reaches for his cup for a second, then pulls back his fingers. “Ooh, very hot. What’s it like, being that guy’s pet?”

 

“P…pet? I wasn’t his pet. Um. Protégé, that’s the word you’re looking for, maybe? Sorry, it’s so cold up here, I forget about these things,” Hokuto mutters, reaching over to touch the side of Kaoru’s cup, and when his hand leaves, the steam is substantially diminished.

 

Kaoru’s eyebrows raise. “So you don’t have access to a lot of paladin power,” he says slowly, “but it looks like the fae side is alive and kicking, hm?”

 

“…Only when I believe enough that something Is,” Hokuto wryly says, sitting back. “The same as any fae, or so I’m told. The paladin half…my family certainly tried to nurture that, and pretend I was normal. Ah, you’ve probably heard those stories, I’m not here to bore you.”

 

“Oh, I heard stories, all right,” Kaoru says, amused. “About how the most valiant and virtuous paladin of them all was seduced by a passing breeze, and produced an unholy abomination. I remember your dad, he was a piece of holy work. What happened to him? I’ve only heard the official story.”

 

Hokuto plucks up his teacup, unfazed by the heat radiating off of it, and takes a slow sip from it. “What, that he finally threw himself onto a pyre, as is expected of all fallen paladins?” he wryly asks. “I don’t know what happened. He wandered off one day, never to return. My guess? He finally saw that fluffy cloud again and couldn’t resist. You know, I did a lot of reading—he’s not the first paladin to be addicted to a fae creature, just the most popular. Do you think paladins are predisposed to that level of flightiness or something? My grandmother always used to say, if a paladin _has_ to flirt with the fae, Greenbred are the way to go.”

 

Kaoru sighs. “I can’t deny, they have their attractions. Especially if you don’t mind crumbled leaves in the bed. What a shame, that’s the most interesting thing your father ever did.”

 

“Wow. You’re a bad paladin.”

 

“Oh, yes. I don’t think I even qualify as one anymore…where’s my pyre, I wonder?”

 

“Don’t talk like that,” Hinata calls over, a little milk-stained. “Lord Rei would be very upset.”

 

“You qualify as long as you believe…ah, or did they change the rules again? As paladins are apt to do…” Hokuto absently says, waving a hand. “At any rate, you’re Lord Rei’s….well. You’re Lord Rei’s. I guess that’s enough said. Do you need to return that baby to him, or…”

 

“Eventually,” Kaoru says, and then gets to his feet. “That reminds me. Mind if I use your fireplace?”

 

“If you’re throwing yourself on it, I mind very much! I like to keep blood, bones, and especially the smell of burning hair, all _outside._ ”

 

Kaoru blinks, startled, then bursts out laughing. “No, sorry, I didn’t mean—I’m going to contact Rei. I swear, former paladin’s honor, I won’t throw myself into it.”

 

Hokuto eyes him suspiciously, then nods, taking another sip from his teacup as he hauls himself upright again. “You do that. I’m going to go check on the undead bodies I found.”

 

“I’m sorry, check on your what?”

 

“My undead bodies.” Hokuto pauses at the hallway door. “Right. That’s not a normal thing to bring up. Pretend I didn’t say it, perhaps.”

 

Kaoru stares for a moment, then shrugs, urgently compelled to the fireplace. “Well, if you want help, let me know. I’m just going to…no, I’m sorry, I can’t let this go, please show me your undead bodies.”

 

“The fire will be here when you get back,” Hinata reassures him from where he’s currently being used as a pillow by both his brother and his current, very tiny charge.

 

Hokuto shrugs a shoulder, holding open the hallway door. “If you want. They’re not very interesting. I mean, insofar as undead bodies…they just lie there. They definitely don’t havebeating hearts, but they aren’t _dead_ , by the magical definition. I pulled them in because they seemed fancy, and maybe one of Lord Rei’s kind would wander in and know them. Lord Ritsu seemed uninterested.”

 

“So, they’re…undead how?” Kaoru asks, fascinated despite himself, trailing after Hokuto. “Where did you find them? When? Is finding corpses so common that you’re just, um, fine with it?”

 

“Out here? Yes. If the cold doesn’t get them, the paladins do,” Hokuto says, rather dismissively. “And if neither of those things do, the demons do. Depends on what side the person or thing is on. One of them is pregnant, if an undead thing can be. Very odd.”

 

“A woman?” Kaoru asks, his interest further piqued. “I mean, dead, but…is she pretty?”

 

“I…suppose?” Hokuto shrugs a shoulder again, and opens the door to his storage room, which fortunately, only consists of those two undead bodies, covered in blankets in a corner, and not numerous others. There _are_ some bones, though. “I don’t really notice such things, usually…”

 

“Oh, um…” Kaoru looks around the room, and shuffles a bit. “This is a pretty weird hobby. What do you…do with them?”

 

“I don’t collect dead bodies as a hobby, if that’s what you’re asking,” Hokuto defensively says.

 

“Listen, cold-hands, I don’t judge.”

 

“You’re rude. You wanted to see my undead bodies, here they are,” Hokuto sniffs, walking over to pull the blankets off. “Which are just as undead as before…I wonder if there’s a way to speed up…well, something, one way or another. Living, dying…they can’t stay here until spring.”

 

“Holy shit.”

 

Kaoru’s eyes widen, and his body suddenly feels as cold as any other body in the room. There, lying on a table, are Arashi and Izumi. A cursory glance shows him that Arashi has had his throat torn out, and one of his legs is badly, horribly mangled and burned. Izumi, though, has been run through, the spreading scarlet stain located horribly, sickeningly, above the bump in his belly. “Hokuto,” he says, as calmly as he knows how, “I’m going to need you to build the fire up. As high as it’ll go.”

 

Hokuto gives him a quizzical look. “It doesn’t need to be that high to contact through it. If you’re trying to burn bodies, I highly recommend you don’t, as that’ll just draw the paladins here faster.”

 

“It doesn’t matter who gets called down,” Kaoru says, as patiently as he can, “because if I don’t contact someone who can make a portal to take them to the best healers in the realm, our realm is going to be at war. As soon as literally anyone finds out about this. That’s the heir to the throne in her belly.” _And not a Paladin blade that stabbed her._

 

“The heir to the…” Hokuto hesitates for a moment more, then nods, turning away. “You’re going to explain more of this to me,” he calls back over his shoulder. “As soon as you can. I’ve been stuck out here for six years, and then Lord Rei contacts me out of the blue, and then _this_. If that’s the queen, she’s not human.”

 

“I’ll explain whatever you want,” Kaoru assures him, walking swiftly from the room, long legs carrying him back to the main hall. “Once I contact whoever’s fucking listening.”

 

“Back from the fire,” Hokuto orders, shooing the foxes away from their freshly created nest. He rests a hand to the fireplace, which quickly (and strangely) morphs, pushing the wood structure of the tiny house to open an expand and create something of a fire pit instead of just a neat little hole in the wall. “I have something of Lord Rei’s, if you want to toss it in as a deliberate contact.” _Though I’m sure you do too_ is the quip on the tip of his tongue. Ah, no, now is probably not the time to pry.

 

Kaoru takes a deep breath, then shakes his head, yanking a chain off of his neck, containing what looks like a glittering scale. He throws it into the fire, then yells, as loudly as he can, “Kanata of the Nekton Abyss! Hear me, and come! I have great need!”

 

The fire expands, engulfing nearly the entire pit in an instant, and Hokuto swiftly ushers both foxes and their tiny charge behind himself, arm swung out to block some of the flame’s heat. “A Deepling?” he mutters incredulously. “Are you _insane_ —“

 

A splash of water hits him directly in the face seemingly from the fire itself, of all things, and Hokuto sputters for a moment, scowling and mopping off his face.

 

_“…Kaoru?”_

 

The name is spoken in Kanata’s soft, lilting voice, curious and troubled at once. _“You…are very far from me. Is Rei not there to help…?”_

 

“I need a healer, the best one in the realm,” Kaoru says, standing firm in the face of the fire, the water, the wind that seems to rush out of it. “It’s Izumi and Arashi. You’ve saved them both before. Is it better if they come to you? You’re the only one I trust not to have other motives.” And what the paladins would say about _that_ , he knows perfectly well.

 

 _“In the water…it will be faster. Gentler.”_ Kanata pauses. _“But the journey might be too much. Bring them into the snow?”_

 

“There’s a lake,” Hokuto interrupts. “Not a five minute’s walk from here. It’s partially frozen, but…”

 

The fire parts, and with another surge of water within the fire pit, it’s Kanata’s head that emerges, long, soaking wet blue curls pooling around him, fresh seaweed still twisted up within it. He claws himself forward, his long, sharp talons not disappearing even as his form becomes less fish-like, with proper legs and pale, unscaled-skin. “A lake will do,” he breathes, staring up at Kaoru, dripping seawater. “You’re a good boy…for calling me.”

 

“Help me get them to the water,” Kaoru says immediately, taking Kanata by the arm. “Hokuto, I’ll explain everything later, but if you’re rude to him right now, I’ll run you through myself. Apparently they’ve been lying in a state of being ‘undead’ for a few days, I don’t know what happened, but they’ve clearly been assaulted, I don’t know what’s keeping either of them down, but neither of them would be unconscious if it was just physical attacks.” He walks fast as he talks, almost dragging Kanata to Hokuto’s weird death cellar.

 

Kanata stumble after him, still dripping, his hair streaming out behind him in a heavy, wet heap. “This place…smells like…Wataru,” he says after some consideration, distracted by it as he looks around, hiking up the wet, linen wrap about his waist as he attempts to regain his footing and walk more like a human. “The fae have touched it so…so much…”

 

“Of _course_ you’d notice that,” Hokuto mutters, stalking ahead of them to bundle both of the bodies up into blankets, tying them off into make-shift stretchers made for easier dragging. “Is this really all right? Drowning them, essentially?”

 

Kanata freezes in the cellar’s doorway, eyes locked on the bodies. “…I can’t touch them,” he warily says. “Not…not until they’re in the water.”

 

“Hokuto, carry that one,” Kaoru orders, nodding to Arashi as he gently lifts Izumi in his arms, ignoring the shudder of foreboding he feels when he feels the limp form cold against his skin. _Cold as death_. “Kanata’s better than you think, he’s put that same man back together when he was just as bad off. Kanata, if you need anything from me, you’ve got it.”

 

“…Did you see what happened to them?” Kanata quietly asks, lifting a hand as if to touch Izumi, then hesitating and drawing it back as he trails after them. “Or…were they…”

 

“Just like this,” Hokuto confirms with a grunt, hauling Arashi’s limp body with him. “And it’s been a couple of days, for the record.”

 

“Mm…” Kanata’s eyes lid, worry tracing over his face. “Kaoru…I thought…Eichi’s kind…was working with us, for now…”

 

Kaoru’s eyes sharpen, then go flat, his face set. “Is it him? Tell me now. I’m not so far away that I can’t go put a sword through his stupid face. Even better, if this is him, he’s violated all kinds of ancient treaties, this should be enough to get the dragon off his ass.”

 

“…It’s not…Eichi,” Kanata clarifies, brow furrowing. “But…the other one…the other one that came to High Harbor. And I can smell Eichi…scary…”

 

“There was a lot of magical activity out and about near here,” Hokuto confirms, kicking open the door to lead the way out through the snow. He pauses, looking Kanata up and down. “You’re going to freeze.”

 

“No,” Kanata refutes, unblinking.

 

“Uh…okay, sure. Lord Kaoru,” Hokuto grinds out. “Tell me this isn’t the same ‘Eichi’ as before. The Emperor—previous Emperor, I suppose—Eichi?”

 

“Mm? Oh. Yeah. He’s back,” Kaoru says vaguely, trying not to look down at Izumi’s frighteningly still face. “And apparently, the least of our worries. Hokuto, don’t let that fire burn down. Kanata, do you need me? Or can I go alert the others?”

 

Kanata shakes his head, takes a few more barefooted steps through the snow, and then promptly dives straight into the lake, disappearing into slushy ice and freezing water. He comes up, looking entirely unfazed. “Set them at the edge,” he says, frost already forming on his eyelashes. “I can do the rest.”

 

Hokuto carefully sets Arashi onto the edge of the lake, trying not to flinch when Kanata’s long, clawed fingers grab him and promptly pull him under, looking very much like a monster of the deep. He straightens up, pushing his hair back from his face as he looks at Kanata, and pauses, as if he’s going to say something, then thinks the better of it.

 

“He’s more trustworthy than you are,” Kaoru says bluntly. “Don’t get fussy about what he’s doing with the corpses he finds in the woods. Now build that fire back up, because if I don’t contact Rei in the next five minutes, I’m going to wind up running there in my wet boots.” He tries not to think of Izumi’s face slipping under the water, or the dark stain spreading out over the swell of his belly.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’ll die out there,” Hokuto exasperatedly says, stalking back into his house. “Seriously? A Deepling, more trustworthy than me? I held a piece of Lord Rei’s soul, you know!”

 

“He did,” Hinata pipes up. “We delivered it. Um, Lord Kaoru, I know you’re busy but I think your baby wants you—“

 

Hokuto’s head swivels in the grumpy process of him kicking firewood down into the pit. “ _Your_ baby?”

 

Hinata pauses, expression sheepish as he carefully bounces the child in question in his arms. “Did…did Lord Rei…”

 

“No, he refrained from mentioning why I was protecting some random baby, but this is fairly par for the course.”

 

“He can wait,” Kaoru says curtly, annoyed. “Don’t tell anyone else whose child that is, Hinata. We have enough to deal with right now. Probably too much. Give me a few seconds.”

 

Then he pulls something out of his pocket, tosses it into the fire, and watches it spark brilliantly black. “Rei!” he calls, and his voice echoes, as if he’s shouting into a chasm without end.

 

The fire flutters once, then again, far more aggressively, before finally parting to produce the image of an extremely tousled, exhausted Demon King, dark circles prominent underneath the heavy fall of his hair. _“Kaoru.”_ A pause, and he jerks, abruptly jolting upright, as if the portal had woken him from a deep slumber in his bed (it absolutely had). _“Kaoru—did you find him? Are you safe? Where—is that—oh, I suppose you_ are _in Sinner’s Grove…”_

 

The child starts fussing in Hinata’s arms, muffling his hiccuping, irritable noises with a mouthful of a fox tail. _“Is that him?”_

 

“Yes,” Kaoru says curtly. “He’s fine. Izumi and Arashi are here. And they’re…lifeless. Hokuto says they’re not magically dead, but physically, they are. I brought Kanata, he’s in the lake with them. He says it was Hiyori.” That’s all the information, as fast as he can make it.

 

_“I’m coming there. Step back, I just fed, so it might be a little…”_

 

“Go on, you two, go back to the bedroom,” Hokuto mutters, shooing off both twins.

 

“But it’s cold—“

 

“You’ll be fine, start another fire back there, just don’t burn my house down.”

 

The fire swells within the pit, the flames tinting purple at the edges as Rei crawls through, hissing at the flames that lap too close. “Tell me more,” he grinds out, clawing his way from the pit, “about how it was _Hiyori_ , when he was supposed to be right under our noses.”

 

“First, can you help them?” Kaoru asks, his face still white, hands shaking, all of him cold. “So much has happened, I just...I don’t know if there’s anything that can be done. They were, they were dead,” he whispers, eyes haunted, “but…”

 

“Kaoru. Take a breath.”

 

Rei’s hands are warm, undoubtedly from the recent feeding, and he grabs for Kaoru’s squeezing them. “Take a breath, and listen to me. You called Kanata. You did the right thing—if they aren’t dead magically—“

 

“And they aren’t,” Hokuto offers up.

 

“Then he has something work with. There’s no better healer.” _The only better healer is being healed._ Rei sucks in a slow breath, tilting his head to get a better look at Kaoru’s face. “So put it out of your mind. You have to, if we want to fix this. Tell me anything else you know or saw.”

 

Kaoru breathes in, then slowly exhales. “I killed a paladin,” he admits. “They were going after the baby—Rei, someone tipped them off, they had a messenger. Who knew about him being moved down here? Or could guess?”

 

Rei pauses, rocking back on his heels as his expression hardens, turning icy in an instant. “Eichi.”

 

“They knew specifically it was connected to the Demon King,” Hokuto quietly provides.

 

“I’m going to kill him. Where’s my son?”

 

Hokuto’s mouth opens, then shuts, and he decides not to ask any questions or further clarifications on _how, exactly is that your son?_ before simply pointing over his shoulder to the bedroom he sent the twins off to.

 

Rei grabs Kaoru’s hand, dragging him with him. “Check him over,” he demands. “From top to bottom. I know, I get it, you don’t want to believe in a damned thing about paladins right now, but you need to, because our _son_ could have been touched by an archdemon if they were fluttering around up here, tracking him, _hunting_ him. When you’re done doing that, _I’ll_ check him over for any paladin influence that would ward off someone like me. Then I will kill that piece of shit, no matter what the king demands.”

 

“Kill him dead this time,” Kaoru whispers, then nods, entering the room and gently checking each tiny finger, each wriggling pink toe, swallowing hard. “No archdemon influence I can find. Where are you sending him?”

 

“We tried to stay on the path,” Hinata tells Rei, stepping slightly in front of Yuuta, just in case one of them is about to be punished. “It was blocked off with snow, and the little one was getting too cold when we went right through it, we _weren’t_ going to go through Sinner’s Grove!”

 

“I know, I know, I’m not angry with either of you, this isn’t your fault,” Rei murmurs, the rage dissolving from his face the moment he’s faced with his children—both biological, and adopted. He crouches down to scoop the child up, exhaling a relieved breath when he doesn’t feel an ounce of lingering, destructive power, only the healthy, warm weight of a well-fed baby that immediately grabs onto the fur of his cloak. “I want him to be with Shu. I can’t think of a safer place, and Eichi _is_ bound by a pact to not be able to touch him.”

 

“Good.” Kaoru’s voice is tight. “Because he can’t come with me.”

 

He sucks in a long breath, and firms his chin. “I’m going to the Conclave.”

 

“The—the Paladin’s Conclave?” Hinata whispers, eyes huge.

 

“Yeah.” Kaoru reaches out and tousles the little fox demon’s hair. “I have to answer for what I did, or they’ll chase me forever. If it was just me, that’s one thing, but…I can’t put him in danger. And if by some chance they clear me, I’ll have access to their library, maybe there’s something in there about how to kill that bastard once and for all.”

 

“…Except they _aren’t_ going to clear you, and you know that.” Rei’s voice is low and flat. “Kaoru. To hell with that. Go into the Shadowlands, I’ll shelter you. If they want a Demon King to hate, I’ll give them one. Be done with it, it can’t unmake you if you aren’t actively a paladin, certainly!”

 

“The Shadowlands?” Kaoru asks, disbelieving. “As if there’s a single creature in the entire realm that wouldn’t smell what I am and stop at nothing to destroy me? The Conclave is the only way, Rei, and you know it. They have to give me a fair trial, if I claim my rights, and I should be able to demand trial by combat. And in the meantime, hey, I’m right there at the library.”

 

“You’re mine. In the Shadowlands, that _means_ something, unlike here.” Frustration seeps through into his voice and a floorboard creeks, an equally frustrated vine poking its way through. Rei ignores it. “Please— _please_ don’t give me one more thing to be utterly terrified of losing right now.”

 

Kaoru grabs him by the shirt and hauls him in for a kiss, their mouths meeting fiercely. He kisses Rei hard, then pulls back, eyes dark and shining. “I’ll come back to you. I swear it. You, and our son. This is the only way I can keep you both safe.”

 

Rei’s chest heaves, and he very carefully, very gently, pushes his child into Hinata’s arms. “Leave us.”

 

“But—“

 

“Now.”

 

Hinata scurries out, Yuuta hot on his heels, and Rei grabs Kaoru by the arms, yanking him close again. “You _cannot_ leave me after all this time,” he says, his voice a frantic, hushed whisper. “Do you understand me? If you go there—“ His voice catches, and he swallows, hard. “You blame whoever you need to in order to go free. Do you understand me? That includes me.”

 

“Blame whoever I need to? Ah, then I _really_ wouldn’t be worth being a Paladin in the Conclave, hmm?” Kaoru’s grin is cheeky, but his eyes are serious, and he holds Rei’s gaze unflinchingly, gripping Rei’s arms right back. “I swear to you. I will do anything and everything in my power to get back to you, alive and unharmed. Have a _little_ faith, if they let me have trial by combat, I’ve got more experience than anyone who isn’t decrepit.”

 

“All those times I deliberately got myself in trouble so you’d _have_ to use your sword better come in handy,” Rei exhales, trying to force a laugh and failing. “Kaoru…he might have won this one. If he’s swayed the king to trusting him…I don’t have proof otherwise. Just that Hiyori was involved, by Kanata’s word, but that’s not enough to prove that _Eichi_ was involved and sending someone after not only Leo’s child, but ours. Leo won’t _listen_ to me. And even if he did, I can’t touch him. I’m such an idiot.”

 

“He took us all in,” Kaoru says bitterly. “I told Izumi to get to know him, talk with him, let his guard down a little. Not in those words, but I’m pretty sure I used the phrase _I think you’ll like him,_ and where’s he now? At the bottom of a fucking frozen lake with a hole in his belly where the baby’s supposed to be.”

 

Rei cringes, releasing Kaoru’s arms and stepping back at that. “Please spare me the details. I just had a child ripped out of me, this is somewhat nightmare-inducing.”

 

“Izumi is a good friend. I didn’t help this situation.” Kaoru sucks in a long breath, lets it out, and firms his shoulders. “Right. I’m going to go get this over with before I change my mind and start hiding under your skirts like a coward.” He cups Rei’s cheek with one hand, his lips twitching. “I love you, bastard. Take care of our son. Be careful until I can come protect you again.”

 

Rei exhales, drooping forward into Kaoru’s touch as he shuts his eyes. “I love you, too. If you change your mind, you know how to reach for me,” he quietly says, reaching a hand up to lay it over Kaoru’s. “I’m past the point of caring. Your paladins can die if they take you from me, remember that.”

 

“I’m not going there to die. I promise.” Kaoru fingers the hilt of his sword, feeling its reassuring weight. “But I wouldn’t say no to you kissing my blade for luck. Luck that I’ll be with you in time to help in the North, at any rate.”

 

“I’ll kiss whatever you want if you think it will help,” Rei says with a ragged, forced laugh. “Adorable of you to think I’m going North. No, I’ll send Eichi there on a _leash_ , dragged there by my dog, preferably with spikes digging in the entire way. Then he can toss himself half-way into the gate, close it on himself, and leave him to suffer and writhe for the rest of eternity, like a spider you squashed only half of and left to die.” He pauses, inhaling, exhaling. “I’m angry, take out your sword.”

 

Kaoru unsheathes his sword, and holds it hilt-up, solemnly offering it. “I’ve only had you do this seriously…what, twice? Ever? Usually we’re still making jokes about it when they’re sending arrows at our backs.”

 

“I think this is a bit more of a dire situation, for once,” Rei mutters, leaning forward to press his lips to the blade of Kaoru’s sword, no matter how it _stings_. Paladin or not, the sword is still holy, after all. “…Somehow, we’ve never thought this was counterintuitive,” he says wryly, drawing back and flicking his eyes up to hold Kaoru’s. “Go, or I’ll start kissing everything else to make you stay.”

 

Kaoru leaves. He has to. If he turns back and sees the baby ( _my son_ ) or Rei ( _my beloved_ ), he’ll find more reasons to stay. “Don’t let them get caught, Hokuto,” he says, not looking back. “If anything happens to them and I live, you won’t.”

 

“Well noted,” Hokuto quietly says, and sets about putting half a million wards (or so it feels like) around his little house in the woods.

 

Some time later, Rei emerges, suspiciously _not_ red-eyed and perhaps too calm. “Start the fire again,” he softly orders, and Hokuto briskly does as he’s asked, not bothering to question any part of this anymore.

 

A tiny vial is half-emptied into the fire, bringing it to flash white and gold for a moment, the flames trickling slowly back to their orange hues after a solid ten seconds. “Leo.” The request is firm, but not explosive, not enough to scare him—hopefully. “Your Majesty—answer me. We need to speak.”

 

“Waaahhh!” comes the squeak from the fire, startled despite Rei’s best efforts. “Rei? Is that you? What a coincidence! I was just looking for you! Where, um…are you in my head?”

 

“Something like that. If you see something on fire near you, that’s suspect.” Rei pauses and leans back, attempting to collect himself. “Whatever it is, stick your hand into it. It won’t burn. It’ll bring you to me.”

 

“Great, we need to talk!” The voice is cheerful, then thoughtful. “Ooh, cool, you can set books on fire without them burning compl—“

 

A moment later, the king’s orange head appears, swiftly followed by the rest of him, tumbling out of the fire and facedown onto the hearth. “—etely,” the king finishes, sounding vaguely stunned. “Whoa. Where am I?”

 

“In the Hinterlands,” Rei softly answers, bending down to take Leo’s hand and help him to his feet. “My apologies for the abrupt request. I have news.”

 

“So, we need to talk about the Academy’s future,” Leo begins, sounding as if he’s rehearsed this conversation opening in his head a hundred times already, climbing to his feet. “You’re going back to the Shadowlands, right? Ooh, it’s really cold, I need a cloak or a Sena to warm me up.”

 

Rei blinks a few times, taken off-guard by the sudden suggestion. “I…ah. I was planning on it, yes? Within a few years. Hokuto, do you have an extra—“

 

Without a word, Hokuto drops a blanket into Leo’s lap, then strides off again to reheat the tea kettle.

 

“Don’t mind him, he’s a bit of a shut-in,” Rei wryly says. “Anyway, that conversation really can wait, I think.”

 

“Eh? I think it’s pretty important,” Leo says, grinning. “I mean, it sort of shapes the whole future, right?”

 

Rei falls silent, rocking back where he sits. He crosses his legs, tugging his own cloak more firmly about himself. “Your timing is odd,” he says. “But if you must talk about it. Go on.”

 

“I’ve decided to take your advice,” Leo announces, “and I think it makes the most sense to take Eichi as my partner, honestly. For the realm, and so I don’t go insane.”

 

“Mmhm. And this has to do with the Academy…what, exactly?”

 

“It’s the only thing he wants,” Leo says, trying not to sound defensive before Rei even says anything. “And you know, you haven’t really enjoyed running it, and you’re going back to the Shadowlands anyway, and he _did_ run it for a few hundred years, so…”

 

“No. Absolutely not.” It’s a knee-jerk response, perhaps, but the idea is so ridiculous that Rei wouldn’t be able to bite his tongue even on a day that he wasn’t stressed out of his mind. “Not only is that a terrible idea, I’ve already chosen a successor.”

 

Leo frowns. “I promised not to interfere with how you run the Academy, but that I control who runs it after you. You didn’t tell me anything about a successor.”

 

“I never agreed to that. Look in your by-laws, you’ll find you have no power to choose who takes over in my stead. And even if you could,” Rei flatly says, “I would sooner stay as Emperor forever than ever, _ever_ let that piece of shit archdemon take it back.”

 

Leo scowls. “I can make life really, really hard for the Academy, you know. All I have to do is overturn the Citizenship law, and boom, no more wizards. Don’t make me flex on this.”

 

“You think that passing a law will stop wizards from blooming? That’s adorable. No. My answer is no, unequivocally no. Natsume is my successor, that isn’t changing.”

 

“ _Natsume?_ ” Leo demands, incredulous. “No way. Absolutely not. Why him?”

 

“Because he’s arguably the most talented wizard of our time, and will absolutely be the leader the Academy needs, as soon as he’s had time to settle in a world without war constantly plaguing him. You don’t have a say in this,” Rei bluntly reminds him. “I could choose my damned dog to take over, if he was a wizard, and you’d have to accept it. You can pass laws to limit us, or to make our lives difficult, but then you’re just as awful as your mate, so think carefully before you do so.”

 

Leo’s eyes narrow. “We really might have a problem, then,” he says quietly. “Because I don’t like your way of dealing with this. Natsume isn’t a teacher, he’s not good at dealing with people. If he’s the greatest wizard around, he should be doing magic stuff, this is why _you_ hate running the Academy. Natsume will be the same, if I let you force it on him.”

 

“If _you_ let me force it upon him? Need I remind you, Leo,” Rei lowly says, “that the Academy is mine right now. _I_ can force whatever I want within it, but the assumption I’m _forcing_ this role upon him is hilarious, at best. You barely know Natsume, and just because you dislike him doesn’t mean you can complain when he’s in a position of power. Furthermore, aside from the obvious issues here—you’re seriously striking a _bargain_ with Eichi about this? ‘It’s the only thing he wants’, my ass. He’s trying to humiliate me. To hell with him.”

 

The front door to the house slams open, and in stumbles Kanata, shivering, soaking wet, and draped in the long, gossamer fabric of his Nightcloak. “They need…to soak for awhile…” he breathes, eyes fluttering before rolling back into his head, just before he hits the ground.

 

Rei exhales a curse as he shoots to his feet, striding briskly to Kanata’s side to drag him further inside. Hokuto hurries to the door, slamming it shut against the snow and wind outside. “When that storm dies down, we’ll go back to the lake,” Rei mutters, hauling Kanata over to the fire with scarcely a grunt of effort. “If he says they need to soak, he means for at least a few hours. By the way, Leo, I found your husband.”

 

“Um, Rei…” Leo says, sort of mesmerized by the sight of the Wavebred flopping down bonelessly, soakily, to the floor. “If you think that’s Izumi, you haven’t seen him properly in a while.”

 

“Kanata has been _healing_ your husband. And Arashi,” Rei tersely says, torn between stripping Kanata of his soaked clothes or leaving them, unsure what’s best in the cold. Finally, he decides to leave it, but rolls Kanata a foot closer to the fire. “Both of which were found more or less dead by Hokuto here.”

 

A lightning bolt of cold goes through Leo, and he stands rigid, suddenly unmoving. “What?” he whispers. “How? Why here?”

 

Hokuto shrugs, his arms folded. “They looked to be traveling North,” he says. “But I found them in the snow, pulseless. Magically, they still lived, but…”

 

“Kanata noticed immediately the presence of archdemon’s magic upon them,” Rei puts in, glancing up from his task of check on Kanata and rocking back onto his heels, pushing his hair away from his face.

 

Leo swallows hard. “They were going up North,” he says quietly. “Rei…can you tell which Archdemon? Is it the one that’s up there? It might be more powerful than—Rei, my baby,” he says, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice. “Izumi can survive anything, I’m pretty sure, but…is it…” He’s so afraid to ask, but not knowing is worse, somehow.

 

“I don’t know about your child. But it’s not the archdemon that’s up in the North that attacked them.”

 

Rei leans back, staring at Leo. “Someone sent a message to the local paladins here that my son would be traveling through. They tried to intercept him and kill my adopted children because of that. I can count very easily how many people _knew_ about his existence, and how many of those people would want him dead is a far smaller number.”

 

“They knew,” Leo whispers. “They—“

 

Things swirl together in his mind, until horribly, finally, they click.

 

“The only person who knew about the child and would, could tell paladins about it, and would benefit from its death or capture,” he says, feeling his words dull along with that last, hopeful light in his eyes, “is him. He…he hurt Izumi, didn’t he? He killed my baby, and Arashi.” He swallows, mouth dry. “My friend. My love. And I spoke for him. I brought him back into our lives. I let him…hold me.”

 

 _I warned you, I told you, I knew I was right, you wouldn’t listen to me_ —

 

As much as he wants to be furious, to say all of those things, Rei bites his tongue, and slowly climbs to his feet, cloak swaying with the motion. “If he didn’t do it,” he quietly says, “then he ordered it done. Madara told me he smelled Izumi and Arashi’s blood in Hiyori’s tent.”

 

Leo slowly crouches down, feeling the weight of everything settle on him like a cloak. Then, more slowly, he stands, face set, squaring his shoulders. It’s not the first time he’s felt an unbearable weight settle on his shoulders. He’d borne it then.

 

He firms his chin, and looks up, meeting Rei’s eyes. “What can I do?” he asks, in a voice that sounds like it belongs to a man twenty years older.

 

“…Are you so certain you want advice from someone you were so willing to replace five minutes ago?”

 

Leo’s jaw twitches. “If you want to blame me, that’s all right, it’s my fault. You were right all along. If I’d listened to you…I don’t know. But I’m stupid. So. Is there something I can do? Or do you want to keep telling me how right you are? I’ll wait.”

 

“Good. Then wait. Your _stupidity_ and refusal to listen to my initial evaluations about the situation led not only to your husband nearly dying, but now _mine_ , due to needing to protect our son, is now having to subjugate himself to a trial within the Paladin Conclave. Never mind the years of torment he—“ Rei’s jaw clenches, his hands in tight fists at his sides as he looks up to the ceiling, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth. “I’ve fallen for Eichi’s bullshit, time and time again. I wanted to believe, as much as you did, that he was going to change…something, anything. But you _refused_ to listen, _insisted_ he was different this time, even when I saw otherwise, even when I begged you not to let him too close—don’t act like it’s an inconvenience for me to be angry with you and scold you when I let that _thing_ touch _me_ and corrupt _my_ power to gain enough strength to ruin us all.”

 

“…I made tea,” Hokuto says when Rei pauses to take a breath, and Rei sits down slowly, trembling.

 

“Good. Thank you. Nothing too hot, I hope.”

 

The tea is set onto the table, and Rei gestures for Leo to take a seat in the other chair. “You’re fucked,” he flatly says, “unless you listen to _everything_ I say, from here on out.”

 

“He knows I’m his weakness,” Leo says flatly, not pushing back against anything Rei says, still standing stiffly. “So he tried to remove me by having me take the land. I remember the stories. I’m not trying to be a martyr, but if I could break it, I’d happily let you do whatever to me to stop him. Please know that.”

 

“You can’t. That’s the whole point of it. Sit down, Your Majesty.”

 

Leo almost protests, then thinks better of it, and sits, grabbing the too-hot tea and downing it immediately. If it burns him, he doesn’t care. “Right. Then tell me what to do.”

 

“…I’ve taken care of the current problem, which was your husband and child trying to die. Or rather, Kaoru did, because he discovered this situation first, and summoned Kanata.” Rei shuts his eyes. “You need to go back to him, pretend you’re fine with all of this, and take him North to close that damned gate.”

 

Leo sucks in a breath. “Pretend…” He nearly protests that he can’t, but what’s the point of being a king who’s responsible for everything if he’s just going to whine all the time? “All right. What next?”

 

“In the midst of that, tell him I agreed to his ridiculous, stupid request. If he wanted a pact, he’s shit out of luck. Tell him he’ll get that when the gate is closed. Blame it on me, he thinks I’m a useless cunt and you’re welcome to play up my unwillingness to work with him and how you’ll surely take me down, with great satisfaction.”

 

“That works,” Leo nods. “I won’t bring up pacts unless he does, and I’ll pretend I forgot to ask, he’ll believe it, I forget lots of things. I’m stupid.”

 

“In the meantime…” Rei sucks in a slow breath. “I’m sending your husband to the Shadowlands. He’ll be under Ritsu’s care. It’s the last place that Eichi will want to go right now, if nothing else…but it’ll also speed up the process of your child being born. Hopefully, alive.”

 

Leo swallows painfully. “So…there’s a chance?” he whispers, hardly daring to ask. “There’s a chance they’re still…both of them? All three of them? I mean, a healer wouldn’t be here, if…right?”

 

“I don’t know. You can talk to Kanata about it when he wakes up.” Rei leans forward, letting the steam from the tea waft up into his face. “You’re going to do one more thing, so he doesn’t get suspicious and think you’re rolling over too easily.”

 

Leo meets Rei’s eyes, unflinching. “What’s that? Bite his nose?”

 

“No. Put your foot down about Wataru. I don’t want them involved, at all, ever again.”

 

Leo’s eyes widen. “Oh. Yeah. Smart. You’re smart. Hey, we’ll fight about Natsume another time, yeah? That’s a totally separate issue, I don’t like it even if I’m not rolling over for an evil being.”

 

“I’ll tell you the same thing I already did, no matter how many times we argue about it.”

 

“Great, I look forward to it.” Leo purses his lips as a thought strikes him, echoing down to his toes. “Rei…we’ve been here before.”

 

“Yes, as have I, many years ago. Because that’s how Eichi operates, Leo. He’s the same, no matter what you do.”

 

“And every time, he convinces me, whether he’s using the bond or just manipulating me good old-fashioned style,” Leo says quietly. “And I run back to you, and tell you that he’s the best, we’ve got it wrong. And you put me right, and I trot back to him. Even when I’m with you and…convinced, when I understand that you’re right, the second I go back to him, it’s like a cloud around my mind. The only time it didn’t was…right at the start, when he was back. When I was so sure, and I told him he had to do as I said, and I didn’t give him a choice.”

 

“That’s because you were thralled.” Rei’s voice is weary. “I was protecting you, Leo. That bond to him is what is clouding your mind, and if you piss him off, he’ll keep using it against you. Having that thrall on you was the only chance we had.”

 

“Then I’m going to go back to him,” Leo says flatly. “The second I see him. Aren’t I?”

 

“Probably. Most likely. You can’t control your bond and you aren’t thralled, so you’re an open book.”

 

“Oh. All right.”

 

Leo takes a deep breath, and takes Rei’s tea. “He can’t tell very much about me, though. Barely where I am. And it’s weaker, the farther away we are. So.” He downs Rei’s tea in one gulp. “I’m going to disappear, I think.”

 

 _That’s a bad idea,_ Rei almost says, but the words won’t come. Sympathy, _empathy_ for the situation is hard to come by, when his own child, his _husband_ has been so heavily effected, mirroring so closely the near-miss of what had happened to Shu last time.

 

One less thing to worry about seems fine.

 

“All right. I can supply a guide, if you want one. Or a list of safe places, alternatively.”

 

Leo shakes his head. “No. This is my country. I know it better than anyone thinks. I…I’ve had plans for a long time, it’s better if not even you know where I might be. If I hear that he’s gone for good, I’ll come back.” He swallows hard. “And if you can kill him, it won’t matter where my body’s found, will it?”

 

“He can’t be killed. Tossed back to where he came, but not killed.” Rei’s eyes lid. “No matter how much I want to think about it. Leo—it’s unlikely he’ll be ‘gone for good.’ You know that, don’t you?”

 

“I know,” Leo says quietly. “But you’ve done incredible things before. And we have some cool people on our side. Just…tell Izumi I love him. And tell Arashi I’m sorry. And tell both of them not to look for me, if they recover you’ll need them on your side.”

 

“…If you need supplies, there’s a paladin settlement on either side of this place, no matter which way you go.” Rei rises from where he sits, moving to Kanata to roll him over and let his other side dry next. “Go, before you change your mind.”

 

Leo nearly says something, then thinks better of it. He sucks in a breath, then says softly, “You’ve always been a good friend, Rei. I haven’t always listened or taken your advice. I really hope…I hope your heart is big enough to blame the bond instead of how pathetic your king is.” He tries to smile, and it wavers, flickers, and dies.

 

“Bonds make us pathetic, Leo.” Rei straightens again, watching him as he folds his arms. “I’ve blamed everything I could on my bond, and everything I could for you on your bond. I’m not angry with you. I just want to rip your shitty, murdering, raping mate to shreds. It will only hurt you more to hear me go into the details of that, so I’m pulling back, and letting you go. I’d like for you to live, so that’s what has to happen now.”

 

“All right.” Leo wavers for another moment, then turns, scampering over the furniture and down the hallway, then disappearing out into the snowy night.

 

“…I’m taking a nap. Wake me in an hour.”

 

Rei beelines to the bedroom where he’d left the twins and his son, finding them curled up into a mass of fluff and blankets. He slithers down next to them, curling around them in turn, his cloak covering them almost entirely.

 

_Ritsu. I’m in the Hinterlands, I know you can hear me._

 

Rei pauses that thought, and adds: _Don’t ignore me, it’s about Izumi._

 

There’s a feeling in his mind like a dry, weary groan, followed by teasing pleasure, before Ritsu’s voice says in his mind, _Say you’re so~orry for waking me. Tell me I’m wonderful._

 

_I’m sorry for waking you and you’re wonderful. I need you to come here._

 

“Cold,” Yuuta grumbles sleepily, promptly stuffing his face into Rei’s chest.

 

“I know, love. You’re summer foxes.”

 

_Sooner, rather than later._

 

 _I can’t leave,_ comes the immediate, wary response. _There’s…things going on. It’s fine, I’ve got them under control, but someone’s got to be here._

 

_Define ‘things.’ Archdemon things, perhaps?_

 

_I think so. Their creatures, at least. Kinda surrounded. They can’t get past my wards, but I can’t get past their line._

 

_I see. How strong? Use a wizard’s scale. And how many? I’m asking so I can better come to you instead._

 

 _I don’t need your help!_ comes the immediate, defensive retort. _But…mm. They rotate. All total, a dozen. Probably Nooncloak level at the strongest, but with more, uh, appendages. If…I mean, if you’re not doing anything better, I wouldn’t be mad if you came up here. Izumi, too, but mostly because I want to see him._

 

_Our darling friend Eichi nearly had him killed. That’s why I need you, Ritsu; he needs to be where it’s safe right now, and I was hoping that would be with you._

 

There’s a pause, far longer than normal for a mental conversation. Then, Ritsu’s mental voice comes through quiet, very serious. _Give me an hour. I’ll have a path cleared for you._

 

 _Good boy. I knew I could count on you._ Rei pauses as well, then adds, very carefully, _It’s as bad as it could get, Ritsu. Be prepared to babysit him for some time._

 

 _Bring him to me,_ Ritsu says, just as carefully. _And I’m going to sound the Call to Hell. Eichi has to pay._ Then he cuts off the contact.

 


	31. Chapter 31

 

“Kitten.”

 

Wataru suddenly appears in the Inn’s small room, not an open window or door betraying the source of his presence, humor dancing behind his eyes as he peers down at Natsume. “Are you surprised?”

 

Natsume, caught up in a trance, hands splayed over half a dozen scrying stones over a small glass table, bolts back quickly enough to tip his chair over, and land flat on his back.

 

With a squawk, he briskly smoothes down his skirts, huffing loudly as he glowers up at Wataru, cheeks flushed. “Yes! Yes, I am! That was rude, what if I was doing a ritual with _knives?_ ” _I didn’t expect you to come back at all,_ he almost says, but bites his tongue.

 

“I would happily let you bury them in me,” Wataru assures him, kneeling on the floor and waving his fingers, sending the stones snapping back into place, as if he’d seen the ritual, memorized it, and perhaps even improved it in the time of an eyeblink. “Thank you, your surprise gives me life!”

 

Natsume hisses, much like a cat, and stays on the floor on his knees, still glowering. “I’m glad it’s good for something,” he mutters, lingering in place for a moment more, debating if he should put his Nightcloak on to maintain appearances, or keep doing as Rei had said. He settles for the latter, though he’s wary and unhappy about it as he climbs to his feet. “Did you need something from me?”

 

“Hmm…love? Undying affection and attention, at least?” Wataru suggests, perching on the edge of Natsume’s bed. “I suppose that technically is a want rather than a need, but it certainly does _feel_ as if I’ll perish instantly should you cease gracing me with your favor.”

 

Natsume’s mouth turns down as he rights his chair, glancing back to his table. “I don’t know what you mean. I haven’t stopped gracing you with anything.”

 

Wataru’s twinkle dims, just slightly, as he flexes his long, cold fingers on the foot of the bed. “And yet, you’re angry with me. Why, Kitten?”

 

“I’m not angry with you,” Natsume mumbles, slouching down. “I just…I…I didn’t think you were coming back.”

 

“Ahh,” Wataru says softly, as if this is something he’s expected, but only partially, as an outside chance. “So you’ll wall yourself off from me to make my inevitable departure sting less. You needn’t worry. The second you lose interest in me I’ll leave, and I’m told that the longer I stay away, the easier it is to bear. When I leave, you’ll forget me at a rapid, easy pace, feeling better day by day. Isn’t that reassuring?”

 

“It’s not like I want you to leave!” Natsume snaps, whipping around in his chair to glare straight at Wataru. “You big idiot—if I’m walling myself off, it’s because you aren’t giving me a choice! You disappeared since you and—and the previous Emperor—“ He can’t even say it, how mortifying. He swallows hard, shaking, and whips his head around again. “If you want him so badly, just go.”

 

Wataru’s eyes widen. “I—want him so badly?” he asks, blinking. “Kitten, I was coming to ask you to come with me to Rei. Unfortunately, that man has committed one too many sins for even me, an admittedly cheerful sinner, to tolerate. But if you’d prefer I leave, I will go, I’ve been hearing the sound of ice cracking amongst the glaciers for quite a while now, I wonder how it would look to a cloud…”

 

“…Lord Rei said…” Natsume swallows again, wavering for a moment more before rising again, trying not to pace. “Of course I don’t want you to leave,” he mumbles. “But you’ve been worrying me. A _lot_. I thought…we thought…he’d gotten his teeth back into you, and you’d just…go.”

 

“Ah. Do I not have a choice in the matter?” Wataru asks mildly. “Perhaps I shall put on a leash, and you can hold it always, for if you ever let it go, poof! I’ll ascent, like a kite whose string has been severed. Is there no other way you’ll ever be certain of me?”

 

Natsume’s lower lip trembles. “…one of my visions said you’d betray me,” he finally admits. “And the previous Emperor keeps blocking anything that has to do with you from my Sight. I _was_ certain of you, before, but when he’s here…”

 

“Then, let us make him not be here.” Wataru holds out a hand, palm up, fingers extended, but there’s the barest hint of a tremble to it, as if he really isn’t certain whether it’ll be grasped or not. “Will you come with me? If you like, it can be the last time I’ll ask for your help.”

 

His visions are never wrong, but that one had been so obscured, maybe _he’s_ just wrong in how he’s interpreting it.

 

At least, that’s what Natsume tells himself, when he only hesitates for a moment before setting his own hand shakily into Wataru’s. “…Lord Rei said I shouldn’t even wear my Nightcloak,” he miserably says. “Because it was yours, and you could influence me, and if you were working w-with _him…_ ”

 

Wataru frowns, obviously displeased, even as he firmly squeezes Natsume’s hand, his fingers warming to the touch. “How entirely rude of him. Let’s go have a word with my dear friend, shall we? Ah, and you get to meet my _darling_ apprentice of days gone by!”

 

Before Natsume has a chance to ask, Wataru whirls him in a circle, so fast the walls blur, until they’re no longer in the Inn, but in a very chilly house in the middle of a snowy wood, where Wataru still tastes blood in the air. “Surprise!” he announces, suddenly face to face with Hokuto and Rei, his arm around Natsume’s waist.

 

Rei curses, loudly and lengthily, stepping back in a hurry. “Wataru, for the love of gods long dead, I am _already_ stressed. Would you appear like that if it were Shu? No, you wouldn’t, because he would _die from shock_ —“

 

Hokuto, expression unchanging, body unmoving, stares, heaves a sigh, and goes back to stoking the fire. “Ugh.”

 

Natsume blinks several times, trying to dizzily get his bearings. “Wh…huh. Where are we? It’s so cold—the North? No. Hinterlands. It smells like tar.”

 

Wataru gently unlaces his hand from Natsume’s, then throws himself dramatically to the floor. “Hokuto, how _dare_ you not even react! Even though you’re so remarkably untalented when it comes to everything I’ve always tried to teach you, you cannot grant me this _one_ boon for your poor, devoted teacher?”

 

“…Teacher?” Natsume echoes, staring at the sight of Wataru on the ground, then up to Hokuto, eyes narrowed. “Since when? Who are you?”

 

“You aren’t my teacher,” Hokuto tonelessly says, throwing another piece of wood into the fire. “Please get off the floor, you’re acting like a child.”

 

“Children are wonderful, a gift to the world! I fail to see how this is the insult you clearly intend,” Wataru says, his posture not changing, but his voice turning suddenly merry. “Rei, my friend, do you want to throw yourself on the floor with me? I dearly wish to co-conspire.”

 

Rei’s eyes slide to Natsume briefly, who currently is distracted from Hokuto’s presence, poking at the walls of the little house, flitting about to tug at the magical structures of it. It _is_ fae-born, after all, and not a construct that is ‘normal’, by any means. “…As long as we remain by the fire,” Rei allows, unclasping his cloak to lay it down as a matter of having something comfortable beneath himself. “I’m worried you’re here to tell me you’re leaving me and taking my favorite with you.”

 

“Oh, wouldn’t that be fun?” Wataru asks, sitting up at last, his hair spilling all around him. “Unfortunately, my dear, you’re stuck with me for a bit longer, should you desire.”

 

He blinks slowly, his pupils contracting to slits like a cat’s from their usual avian roundness. “Because dear Eichi said something to me that he really should not have, what a shame. I’m afraid I’m quite unwilling to turn my head from you, now, and you’re free to make of me his next monster to rip apart for your virtuous cause.”

 

Rei’s own eyes narrow, and he leans forward, hands on his knees. “What did he say, pray tell?” he lowly presses. “I’m intensely curious to know what could turn you from him so quickly. Forgive me, but the two of you were very…attached, after that night, or so he led me to believe.”

 

“Ah! You and my dear Kitten, you make so little of my oaths,” Wataru declares, only looking slightly miffed, gazing between Rei and Natsume. “As if being fed matters so much to me? I warned him never to look away from me. Ah, but that, I could have forgiven.”

 

His eyes turn hard, and the temperature in the room drops a few more degrees. “Had he kept his tongue still about what he plans for Natsume.”

 

“Stop it, it’s already freezing, or so I’ve been told,” Hokuto growls, stoking the fire with a grumpy, over-exaggerated prod of the smoldering firewood.

 

Rei’s head tilts. “That’s certainly an admirable reason to step back from him. Speak it, I want another reason to be furious with him.”

 

Natsume, as stiff as a board, lip quivering, finally speaks up: “I don’t want to hear it.”

 

“That’s fine, darling. Step into the bedroom down the hall, greet my children and tell me if you See anything after.”

 

Natsume hesitates, his eyes lingering on the two of them before he does as he’s told, striding from the room and letting the door click shut behind himself.

 

“Anything he said to you in private,” Rei lowly says, reaching out to catch a strand of Wataru’s hair between his fingers, “I want to know it. I don’t make little of your oaths, Wataru. I just know how tempting he can be.”

 

“Oh, I’m tempted every day,” Wataru says, his mouth smiling, his eyes still cold. “He called Natsume a whore prophet, can you believe it? Of all people, my precious Natsume. And said he would be easy to use as a distraction for the dragon, when the time comes.”

 

Wataru glitters, from no discernible source. “Now, praise my acting, my friend. Because I left that conversation with him believing I was on his side.”

 

“Good,” Rei softly says. “Because I’m going to need you to stay on mine.” Rei casts a glance over his shoulder, at the door Natsume had exited through. “Natsume—a _whore_. He blushes when I tease him about you.”

 

“He’s slept with two people his whole life,” Wataru says softly, fondly. “And if the first were still alive, the number would be lower. Mind you, I _love_ whores.”

 

“I know you do, you love me,” Rei sweetly says. “You worried me, Wataru. Troubled me, even. That child was so shaken from his visions, I had no choice but to believe _you_ were the reason. I almost chewed through that corset you have wrapped around him.”

 

“Please don’t forget, my friend. I’m not like you. I’m not like Eichi. I’m…Hokuto, when is the last time you fed on a person?”

 

“Can’t recall.” Hokuto peels back a blanket off of a lump on the floor, which just so happens to be Kanata’s entirely unconscious form. “He’s looking better, Lord Rei.”

 

“Oh, Kanata’s here, I forgot to mention,” Rei lightly says to Wataru. “I know how you are. That doesn’t change that I thought you were being…a little too pushy, with trying to sway Natsume to your side. You should let me—“ Rei pauses, snaps his mouth shut, and recalculates. “Ignore that. I’m still hungry and close to home, I’m not trying to start anything.”

 

“You won’t touch him.” Wataru’s voice is calm, his phrasing simple, but final. “You won’t feed on him. Just because I’m not eating him doesn’t mean anyone else is ever, ever allowed to. Where’s Kanata? I do so adore him.”

 

Rei holds his hands up in open surrender, then uses one to point to the lump that Hokuto recovers on the other side of the fire. “Sleeping off a very intense healing session. Did Eichi mention murdering the king’s husband, by chance?”

 

“He did not, in fact. Did he do that? I don’t think I like that,” Wataru says, frowning. “No, not at all. Wasn’t there a child? Ah, let me lend him a line.” He stands fluidly, sinking down again next to Kanata, gently ruffling his long hair, letting energy trickle into his slumbering friend.

 

“I don’t think he did it, but Hiyori in his stead. There was a child. Perhaps there is still a child.” Rei’s eyes lid as he watches Kanata stir and moan, shifting slowly onto his side and grabbing blindly for Wataru. “Ritsu is taking him and Arashi into the Shadowlands as soon as possible. We can’t let Eichi have access to Izumi again. He’s decided to use pretty, fancy paladin spells upon Leo. Ah, this is odd, the four of us here, but not Shu…”

 

Wataru frowns. “Oh, you’re right, I don’t like that. When will he be here, do you think?”

 

“I can ask him here. I was enjoying having him safe and sound in High Harbor, but I’m wondering how safe that really is now.” Rei exhales unhappily. “The king ran off, by the way. I sanctioned this, more or less. It’s better than dealing with him as a loose end here. Mm…what are the chances of you deciding that pact I made with Eichi is null and void?”

 

Wataru laughs, and shakes his head. “If only. But I do have _some_ good news for you, my friend. Shu isn’t in High Harbor. He’s quite close, don’t you smell him? Ah, you’ve closed your bond with him, haven’t you? Tricky, those things…”

 

Hokuto lifts his head at that, and sniffs, once, and grumpily. “That’s too many Airbred in one place,” he flatly says, glaring at Wataru. “You alone will make this place dissolve from being. Paladins will find us.”

 

“I’m in the mood to murder every paladin on this earth, so to hell with them,” Rei mutters, briskly rising to his feet and striding to the door to throw it open as he abruptly drops the barriers on his side of the bond. _Your_ timing _, love._

 

There’s a brief, flustered silence from Shu’s side of the bond, followed by vaguely sheepish affection, just as Shu rides into view at the other end of the clearing, cloak fluttering behind. _I’ve been useless and afraid too long. Don’t send me away_.

 

“Too many Airbred? Ah, my dear student, no such thing! You should have seen it in the old days, where we roamed the skies in droves! At least we have Shade and Green and Waves here to anchor us!”

 

“I’m not your student, you’re just annoying. Aren’t Airbred still in the skies everywhere, looking like frustratingly normal clouds?”

 

Rei heaves a long, shaky breath, arms folded as he watches Shu on his horse approach before he steps out into the deep snow himself. “I won’t send you away,” he calls, stretching out a pale hand, his heart thudding in anticipation at a chance to touch Shu after so long _without_. “In fact, you’ll find yourself delightfully useful.”

 

“I’m useful already,” Shu calls, before his horse finally slows to a walk, then a stop, and he swings off her back, patting her neck. “I put a dozen paladins off your trail, made it look like it was veering away South.” Carefully, he lets his hand rest in Rei’s then sighs, eyes fluttering closed when the power between them fizzles eagerly, his heart thrumming.

 

Rei’s fingers curl, lacing through Shu’s before drawing him close, sliding an arm about his waist in turn. His face buries into Shu’s neck, inhaling deeply. “I made a pact,” he murmurs. “Seeing you reminds me it was right. Eichi can’t touch you. This should infuriate him, if he crosses your path, and I hope greatly please you.”

 

“It’ll please me when I see him frustrated,” Shu says, going for ‘serene’ and just winding up snuggling into Rei, inhaling deeply and trying to be casual about it. “Everything is happening right now, isn’t it? Who’s here? And—for a pact, what did you give up to him? Don’t think I won’t notice just because you started with the part I’d like.”

 

“I promised not to touch the king again.” Rei’s eyes lid, both of his arms circling around Shu, his fingers linking together at his lower back. “A small price to pay, all things considered. Yes, everything is happening right now. The five of us are here, plus a friend and old student of Wataru’s, my twins, and…ah. What I was sending to you, now an addition that I worry over somewhat more. Where is Mika?”

 

“Heading North, going to find Arashi,” Shu tells him, and rests his ear against Rei’s chest, though he has to stoop slightly. “Apparently he’s had some feelings of foreboding and won’t listen to me when I tell him it’s because he eats every single day.”

 

“…Technically,” Rei quietly says, “Arashi is here as well. So is Izumi. Kanata has been healing them.”

 

“…Healing,” Shu echoes, feeling his stomach drop as he pulls back from Rei. “Tell me. Get me inside, it’s freezing, but tell me.”

 

“As long as you don’t stop touching me,” Rei says with a ragged laugh, pulling Shu towards the little house. “It’s been too long without. Ah, and here I thought I was holding myself together so well…”

 

“How dare you think you can keep things from me?” Shu asks, amused. “I mean, you _can_ , I’m sure. But you shouldn’t.” He reaches up, and brushes his fingertips against Rei’s temple, easing some of the tension there. “Where’s the king?”

 

Rei shudders, stumbling as he sags into the touch, nearly tripping and falling face first into the snow as he misses the step-up into the house. “Ah. Um. Gone.”

 

Shu grabs Rei’s cloak, frowning at him, brushing the snow from his cloak. “Honestly, what’s the point of being so _long_ when you’re such a mess? Keep your limbs where they belong. And what do you mean, gone?”

 

“You’re the one making me a mess, love! It can’t be helped,” Rei bemoans, trailing after him like a happily lost puppy. “Gone, I mean gone. We had a long talk about the situation and how his presence hinders our progress. A selfless, necessary act. Wataru, look who I have.”

 

Natsume, now having returned to the fire once the immediate conversation of what Eichi had said about _him_ is over, perks up instantly at the sight. “Lord Shu,” he breathes. “You traveled all this way? I could’ve made a portal!”

 

“Hello, child,” Shu says fondly, giving Natsume’s shoulders an appreciative squeeze. “Those skirts do you no favors, I packed something new for you.” He delves into his pack, and picks up a mass of green and silver, complete with a shaped, dramatic bodice. “Actually, I have clothes for everyone. New Nightcloaks, for one thing. Rei, grab my packs off of the horse.”

 

Rei wavers, not wanting to release Shu for an instant, but finally forces himself to do as he’s told, huffily striding back into the snow to divest the horse of his baggage.

 

Natsume watches that procession, somewhat in awe of it, before deciding clinging to Shu’s arm is the way he wants to remain, staring up at him with large eyes. “You’re staying, yes? I have _so_ many dreams I need to discuss with you…”

 

Another, pained little shiver, and Kanata rolls to his other side, stirring with his eyes finally cracking open. “Who…” He slowly pushes himself up onto an elbow, trembling with the effort from it. “Wataru…? And Shu? And…Natsume, even…why…”

 

And then he hits the floor again, unconscious and, well, as limp as a dead fish.

 

“We’re working on that,” Hokuto mutters, another pail of warm, salted water tipped over onto Kanata, just in case. “This is too many Airbred. Too many people in my house. My grandmother’s _going_ to notice.”

 

“This will help,” Shu says firmly, and pulls a Nightcloak from one of his packs, settling it around Kanata. The fabric swirls around him, rippling as if it’s not _quite_ solid, pooling around him on the floor, seeming to swirl around him, collecting him, keeping his energy from spreading in the dry air.

 

The next cloak goes to Wataru, and woven into the strands instead of water are threads of pure, cold air and steel, letting the heavy garment billow around him as if it’s the lightest silk, with a low, broad collar that reflects the heavens.

 

The third he puts on his own shoulders, with hints of shimmering power woven through the black, moulding over his shoulders and back like liquid steel, fluttering with his movements, then hanging as straight as if weights were sewn into the hems.

 

The fourth, he drapes around Natsume’s shoulders, and fire seems to spring from it, never still, always alive, simultaneously a shield from errant energies and a conduit, channeling the heat up from the earth’s core.

 

And last, Shu presents to Rei.

 

Black threads with black, layers upon layers of darkness shrouding itself, but finely, too fine for the naked eye to see, are threads of green and red and blue and white, all plied together into a single thread, darting almost unseen through the inky black quilted fabric.

 

“I…I do hope you like them,” Shu says, voice faltering a little. “They seemed like a good idea when I was shut up alone…”

 

Rei takes a step forward, catching Shu’s face in his hands and silencing him with the kiss he’s wanted to plant on those lips since he arrived. “Perfect. They’re perfect. And _you’re_ perfect, love. Look how beautiful you are,” he mutters, distracted, pushing Shu at an arm’s length back from himself to admire him, then dragging him forward again, mouth on his neck. “Every day that I haven’t been able to gaze upon you has been torture—“

 

“…Lord Rei really missed Lord Shu, didn’t he,” Natsume manages, face pink, huddling back into his new cloak happily, still clutching the new clothes Shu had given him.

 

Hokuto stares exasperatedly at the sight, gritting his teeth when Kanata slowly stirs again, this time with more of a little whimper than a groan. “Warm,” he mumbles, snuggling far more contently underneath the weight of fabric. 

 

“Perhaps we should let them, ah, enjoy their reunion for a while,” Wataru suggests merrily, deliberately turning Natsume away from the way Shu is currently melting and whimpering and grabbing at Rei. “Hokuto, why don’t you show me where I can help my other pupil here change clothing? Hello, Kanata!”

 

“Hello…” Kanata dazedly greets, unmoving and uncaring. “Wataru…you’re good…”

 

Natsume’s eyes linger perhaps longer than necessary at the way Rei’s hands slide down to grab handfuls of the curve of Shu’s rear, especially when combined with how Rei definitely whispers something low and throaty into Shu’s ear. He swallows, shaking himself off with a huff of breath, his face burning as he stuffs it down into the pile of clothes he holds.

 

“I’m not your student, for the umpteenth time,” Hokuto flatly says, rising from where he kneels to touch a hand to one of the walls, another door appearing because he wants it to. “Go on, then, you absolute menace.”

 

Wataru sighs, clicking his tongue sadly. “Hokuto…you have so much potential. Sort of. But in the ways that matter, you’re so dramatically untalented. It’s sad, really. If you’d just let me teach you properly, surely, I could—“

 

Shu lets out a breathy, eager groan, and Wataru’s words stutter out for a moment, his cheeks pinking as he turns his face away. “Perhaps another time,” he says hastily, and takes Natsume around the waist, hurrying him through the new door and into another room.

 

Natsume dives to the door to shut it, his face as red as his hair. “H-how can they just— _do_ that, right there?” he demands, as if actually expecting an explanation. He dumps the new clothes into a chair, pacing restlessly in an attempt to calm his thudding pulse. “Honestly, we have so many more important things to think about—it’s not like I don’t understand, but _still_ , if they could just focus for half an hour…”

 

Wataru sighs, and flops down on a bed that appears as he imagines it, staring dreamily up at the ceiling. “Rei is about to be so full, how delightful. Mm, don’t you think there’s a romance in it? To need someone so badly you’d let them ravish you in the middle of a crowded room, _any_ room?”

 

Natsume falters in his pacing, his face impossibly, painfully hot. “I—I didn’t say it wasn’t romantic,” he manages.

 

“No, no, I can take a hint,” Wataru drawls. “Never fear, Kitten. I’ll keep my hands far off of you in public, and tamp down all of my urges, no matter how powerful. Are you going to put on that…hmm, I was going to call it a dress, but it isn’t quite, is it?”

 

“I—“ Natsume huffs again, louder, sounding all the world like a cat snarling at some animal that has alluded capture. Moodily, he strips off his new cloak, laying it over the back of the chair. “If you want me to change and look more presentable, come undo my corset.”

 

“ _Really?_ You can’t even wait until you get into another room?” is Hokuto’s put out complaint before the front door opens and shuts, clearly signaling his own escape from Rei and Shu eating one another alive.

 

Wataru stands, a deliberate movement, his hair fluttering around himself as he strides forward, pressing his lips to the top of Natsume’s head, pressing his lips there for a long minute. “Unless,” he says, voice dropping low as his hands move on Natsume’s corset, deftly unlacing it to slide his fingers beneath, brushing over the sweaty, compressed skin, bringing prickling bubbles like champagne wherever his touch reaches, “what you’re waiting for…is for me to do it without asking. That’s never been my method, but I could be…convinced. By you.”

 

Shu’s flushed, embarrassed cheeks, betrayed by the eager way he’d just melted underneath Rei’s insistent hands, the way his eyes had fluttered shut in obvious pleasure over whatever Rei was whispering into his ear—

 

Natsume sucks in a sharp breath that has little to do with the way his corset loosens to let him breathe properly, his eyelashes fluttering as he swallows audibly. “…Rei and Kaoru both said…you have me wrapped up like a prize,” he whispers, shivering hard when Wataru’s fingers touch where his corset had once tightly been. “What’s the point, if you aren’t going to…do something, whenever _you_ want.”

 

“A prize, hmm?”

 

Wataru trails a finger down Natsume’s shoulder, just barely underneath where the dress meets the skin, easing the fabric down at an achingly slow pace. He leans down, his breath cool on Natsume’s neck as he exhales slowly. “What are you thinking about, Kitten?” he murmurs, one arm snaking around Natsume’s waist, pulling him back against the hard line of Wataru’s body. “What do you want me to do to you? Or is it…someone else?”

 

Natsume gulps. There’s not really any lying to Wataru, but every hard, lean line of Wataru’s body behind him makes him melt, and that includes his brain. He shivers again, sagging back with a shaky breath, his head lolling back against Wataru’s shoulder. “No, it’s…it’s you,” he murmurs, the red on his cheeks far from dissipating. “I…I just…don’t be mad, if I say it…”

 

“I’m not sure I know how to be mad at you,” Wataru says with a smile, letting his hand come up, tracing the delicate, pale column of Natsume’s throat, brushing it with the backs of his fingers. “Tell me, or I’ll give it my best effort, though. You _must_ let me grant your desires.”

 

“Nooo, not this one,” Natsume bemoans, his eyes lidded as he stares up at Wataru, tongue flicking out to wet his lower lip nervously. “I want it to be you. _Just_ you, always, but I also…sometimes wonder, w-what it would be like…if Lord Rei also, with the two of us…” Embarrassment makes it impossible for him to say the words in their entirety. “I…I’m sorry, I know you don’t want that, but you _asked…”_

 

Wataru isn’t entirely certain he could ever feel more charmed by anyone, ever. He reaches a finger up, controlling his initial, entirely too-warm reaction, playing a role for a little longer, tracing his fingertip over Natsume’s lips. “Ohh? Someone is a greedy little kitten, hmm? One man isn’t enough for you, is he?”

 

He lowers his lips, letting them brush against the shell of Natsume’s ear, and breathes, “He’s as big as I am, Kitten. And bites harder.”

 

Natsume sucks in a sharp, fast breath, the sound somewhat high-pitched when his mind produces a _far_ too realistic, visceral image. He’s not sure if that’s helpful or terrible, but it makes his knees go weak all the same, and he reaches back to grasp at Wataru’s arm, nails biting in, fingers trembling. “Oh,” he weakly settles upon, his tongue flicking out to brush against the tip of Wataru’s finger before he simply wraps his lips around it with soft, hungry sound. 

 

“Was that a prophecy?” Wataru asks, voice soft, dangerous, eyes dancing. “Your knees bent a little…hmm, I daresay you’ll have to wait your turn until Shu has had his fill—or we could ask if they’d like an audience, I suppose? Or must you be the center of attention, if I _did_ agree to let someone else behold what’s mine?”

 

“N..not prophecy…I don’t think?” Natsume groans, releasing Wataru’s finger with a wet, hot breath. “I…just thought about it too hard…” His hand paws for Wataru’s, trying to drag it further south. “Waiting is no good,” he whispers.

 

A current of wind suddenly blows open the door, though Wataru’s surprise comes a full beat too late for it to be genuine. “Oh,” he says, nearly purring into Natsume’s ear, letting his hand brush over the bulge under Natsume’s skirts, never letting it find purchase. “What a lovely couple they make, don’t they? Don’t close your eyes, Kitten. They don’t mind if you look. See how Shu loves it? His legs are so long, but you can see them shaking, can’t you, and they’ve barely had two minutes. Would you be shaking after two minutes on your back on the furs in front of the fire, do you think?”

 

Rei’s head jerks up, the long, heavy fall of dark hair rising with it, his mouth stained red from both kisses and bites that have drawn blood as he bends over Shu, only the heavy fall of his cloak still tied to his shoulders obscuring most of both of them. An exception is one of Shu’s very long, pale legs slung up around his waist, purpled bruises and scratches already left on the outside of it from Rei’s overeager fingers.

 

“Wataru,” is his only low, rumbling warning.

 

Natsume stares for what feels like an eternity, his face burning so hot that it aches, his knees locking to keep him on his feet until he feels himself close to passing out. He corrects that with a sharp inhale of breath, straightening, but only slightly, trembling before he turns his head away. _Two minutes is more than I could ever imagine_ , he helplessly thinks, then remembers his company—all _four_ of them—and contemplates sinking through the ground in utter mortification.

 

“I’m only watching,” Wataru murmurs, eyes glinting in the light as he lets one arm sling around Natsune’s waist, the other still traveling low, ghosting between his thighs. “Besides…he’s the one that asked for this. For you. I thought he might as well see what he’s begging for.”

 

His eyes are a challenge, but a dance of a challenge, holding Natsume still against him with iron strength. “Don’t look away, Kitten. This is for you. My prize.”

 

“Rei…” Shu’s voice is broken, ragged as he hiccups for air, one hand tangled in Rei’s hair, the long leg dragging him down, dragging him in _harder_. “I don’t care who’s here, don’t _stop_ , I’ll die if you don’t fill me…”

 

Rei’s eyes slit, sparing a last, sideways glance towards Wataru—and Natsume, by proxy, but if he lingers too long there, that spells _trouble_ —before dropping his head again, mouth hot on the arc of Shu’s neck. “But you _are_ full, love,” he murmurs, planting a hand next to Shu’s head for leverage, nails flexing down into the furs as he rocks in, harder, _deeper_ , bending Shu’s leg back. “What you want…is to be _too_ full.”

 

A little noise leaves Natsume’s throat, his blood thrumming too-fast, his fingers clutching down against the arm tight about his waist. There’s no prying it off and hiding—not that he _wants_ to, but, even still. “Don’t _tell_ him,” he whispers plaintively, turning his head in spite of Wataru’s orders, stuffing it into the side of his neck with a flustered huff.

 

“Why not?” Wataru asks, bending his face so that his lips can brush against Nastume’s throat, grazing the skin in a soft, tantalizing motion. “You don’t want him to see you? Or is it…” He presses his hand down, tightening his arm around Natsume’s waist. “Is it that you don’t want to see him, because I’ll see the way your body rises?”

 

“What I want,” Shu breathes, the long column of his pale neck arching, “is you, just as you are, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t—don’t you dare stop—I’ve needed you for so long—“

 

Rei’s teeth snap over Shu’s throat, biting less to feed, more to hold, as one hand drags up, quick as a snake, and pins Shu’s above his head. The rock of his hips is more insistent, rougher, holding Shu in place when he ruts in. _I’m not stopping, you’re mine. So take it, and shut up._

 

The sound of Rei’s voice, so low and throaty and _calm_ in Shu’s head, in _his_ head, makesheat pool and twist in Natsume’s stomach so abruptly that he fears he might pass out. It’s different, hearing Rei speak to Shu like that, so casually possessive and _dominant_ , and Natsume twists in Wataru’s arms—or at least, tries to, an attempt to hide how aroused he is when his hips automatically try to rut forward into Wataru’s hand.

 

Wataru sucks in a sharp breath, licking his lips as he hears that voice just as resonant as Natsume does, and he has to work to keep his footing. “You’re close, aren’t you, Kitten?” he rumbles, and peels down Natsume’s dress, shoulder by shoulder, baring him to the waist, letting cool fingers drag over Natsume’s nipples, hardly a firm touch. “Just from hearing them. How would you feel, to let a demon like that pin you down and have you? The way he’s having Shu?”

 

Shu’s only response is a whimper, as his body surrenders to shuddering ecstasy, finally being brutally, thoroughly _claimed_ the way he needs to be, having Rei own his senses the way he owns Shu’s body, the way his mind is freely, eagerly given into his keeping.

 

Natsume’s knees knock together again, nearly buckling entirely this time as he stuffs his face into Wataru’s shoulder, panting open-mouthed. “I…w-wish you’d both do it.” The admission is a quiet, shaky one, still incredibly embarrassed even as his nipples harden, cock throbbing. “Together, or…taking turns, either…either way is good…”

 

The noise Rei makes when he spills in Shu’s body is a low, deep rumble, muffled into Shu’s throat as he bites again, holding tight as his cock throbs seeming in time to his thudding pulse. Some of the tension dissolves from his body, but only some, and he releases Shu’s throat with a ragged exhale, licking his lips, then sucking, kissing his way up to Shu’s lips. “Good,” he murmurs, his cheeks flushed, eyes lidded and lashes dark over the red glow of his eyes. “Good boy. I missed you so…”

 

 _You don’t need to miss me._ Shu’s voice, redolent with lazy, sated pleasure spills over all of them, as he takes his cue from Rei, letting down the barriers he’s carefully erected over years of practice. _I belong to you, my lord. I always will._ The heady rush of indolence, of purring satisfaction running through him spreads out, too, letting everyone feel just how well Rei has served him. _And you have me so well._

 

“Rei,” Wataru says, voice dancing, “if you ever want to have a taste of my Kitten here…this is the only time you ever will.”

 

Rei’s head slowly lifts, tongue running over his lip contemplatively as his eyes lock briefly on Natsume, then on Wataru, all while he combs long fingers slowly, affectionately through Shu’s sweaty hair. “…If this is your way to lure me in to kill me,” he says after a moment’s pause, “it’s working.”

 

“E-eh?” Natsume breathlessly squeaks, lifting his flushed face to look between the two of them. “Wataru wouldn’t—“

 

“He might.” Rei’s movement is languid as he pushes himself partially upright. “If you really mean to share him, bring him over here,” he murmurs, crooking a finger.

 

Wataru turns Natsume in his arms, tilting up his chin, his eyes lilting with mirth and hunger, flickering between colors. “Well, Kitten?” he asks, voice almost a whisper. “Last chance to escape. I won’t mind, either way.”

 

Natsume’s lower lip trembles, his eyes lidding as he looks down, hands bunching into his own skirts. “…As long as you know…it doesn’t mean I don’t want to be with you, and you only. You can’t…you can’t use this against me, ever, and _especially_ not to leave me.”

 

Wataru laughs, and flips Natsume back around, lifting him as he carries him over to where Rei and Shu are splayed out. “Go on, then, dearest to my heart. Let them see just _why_ you’re so absolutely delicious that I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else ever touching. And Rei…watch your fangs. If I have to see a reminder of this, there’s no guarantee of what I’ll do.”

 

“…That sounds like encouragement, rather than something to fear,” Rei settles upon with a grin, bending to press another kiss to Shu’s lips before he draws back, holding out his hand. “Come here, child. Look at you, you’re shaking. Is Wataru so rough with you that you’re afraid of what _I_ might do?”

 

“N-no!” Natsume squeaks out, his face burning as he tentatively reaches out. “He’s always…always careful with me.”

 

“Ahhh. Perhaps therein lies the problem.” Rei’s eyes are dark and hungry, no matter how he’d just fed so thoroughly, and Natsume’s trembling hand placed into his own makes him lick his lips. “The blood of dragons…is always so hard to resist, for someone like me.”

 

“Wataru.” It’s Kanata’s voice, soft but no less insistent, that sounds merely a pace or two away from where he also lingers by the fire, wrapped only in his new Nightcloak and the long, winding fall of his hair.

 

Wataru tilts his head, as if listening to something much longer than the single word of his name. Then he smiles, his teeth sharp behind his lips, and nods, holding out a hand. “Yes, I think so. Natsume, darling, do you mind if I just…”

 

He reaches out, but Shu’s hand is faster, knocking Wataru’s away as it comes to rest on Natsume’s hip. His eyes are dark, hair sweaty, but his smile is comforting, encouraging as he deftly strips the sodden skirts off of Natsume’s body. “You don’t need those now, do you? Let my lord take care of you, he’ll make you feel so good.”

 

Wataru’s hands come to settle on Natsume’s waist, smoothing up and down as he removes the last of the biting spell. “How about we let Kanata have a taste, too, hmm? He’s worked _so_ hard.”

 

Natsume’s eyes are wide, his chest heaving as he fumbles for what he _hopes_ is the right thing to say. “I—t-that’s fine, I don’t—“

 

“Shh. Stop thinking so much,” Rei murmurs, dragging Natsume down into the furs the second he feels the last of Wataru’s magic dissolve away. “Stop thinking, and let us spoil you.”

 

Kanata slinks closer, pleased as he nuzzles up into Wataru’s side. “I _have_ worked so hard,” he agrees. “And now that I’m awake…I’m sooo hungry~…”

 

“You can wait, my friend,” Rei mutters distractedly, hands dragging back through the thick fall of Natsume’s hair, pushing it back and away from his neck. “Look at you, you’re so lovely.”

 

Natsume shudders beneath the touch, vibrating in his skin, eyes cast down self-consciously. “I…I’m not, not like—“

 

“I told you to hush,” Rei breathes before he simply can’t stop himself, and lurches forward, face buried into Natsume’s throat, teeth sharp against his skin.

 

Kanata, unfazed, rolls his eyes a bit. “Inevitable,” he says, watching the way Natsume arches with a gasp, his back coming off the furs when Rei presses him down and bites. “You’ll need to leave marks of your own later, Wataru~…”

 

“I thought I’d hate this,” Wataru says softly, eyes never moving, his hand trailing down, brushing over Natsume’s ankle, tickling the bottom of his foot before he leans back, content for the moment to watch his beloved be enjoyed. “But watching you have him, Rei…I find I quite like it, perhaps your particular brand of depravity has more to endorse it than I thought. How does his blood taste? I’ve never indulged.”

 

Shu shifts to the side, stroking and petting Natsume’s hair and shoulders, his hands soothing, but no less warm. “We’re all here for you,” he says softly. “The only gathering of the Nightcloaks in decades, all to pay attention to you, Natsume. I hope you’re appreciating this.”

 

Rei comes up for air, letting a trickle of blood drip down his chin—mostly for show, as he’s _rarely_ apt to be sloppy. “He tastes like fire,” he breathes, long tongue flicking out to catch that drop before it escapes. His pupils are dilated, perhaps far too intent as he drags his hands down Natsume’s sides, squeezing at his waist, his hips, fingers trembling. “Forgive me, child, I don’t think I have it in me to be kind.”

 

“G…good.” Natsume’s voice is dazed, his head lolling back into Shu’s touch, toes curling at Wataru’s, cheeks flushed painfully hot underneath Kanata’s lingering stare. “Please…please don’t be, I…”

 

“Heeh…it’s like we always knew, Rei,” Kanata teases, eyes lidding as the swirl of energy kicked up simply from Rei’s arousal swims around before his sight, all different colors, mixing and melding. “He reeeally likes you.”

 

“Y-you…you _talk_ about me like that?” Natsume ‘protests’, throwing an arm over his face as he trembles.

 

“Happily, and often.” Oil-slicked fingers splay over Natsume’s thighs before delving lower, making him gasp and arch just with the first press.

 

“You like to know they…we…talk about you like this?” Shu asks, his voice soft as he trails his fingers up through Natsume’s hair, winding it up so it doesn’t get in the way, threading through the long white and red strands. He’s never felt the hunger for Natsume himself, but he’s the only one of them that doesn’t feed on people, and Rei’s desire is spilling over to him in any case, rousing his body, making his breath come short as he touches. “That every one of these powerful men have been desperate to have their mouths on you?”

 

“More than that, surely,” Wataru murmurs, and kneels next to Kanata, stroking a long finger down his friend’s spine. “Ah, this is nice, we should all get together for a meal more often.”

 

Rei’s fingers are _so_ long, as long as Wataru’s, and thinking about that makes Natsume hiccup and arch when they press in, curling and stroking far inside of him. His thighs tremble, squeezing around Rei’s arm, too-taut and struggling to relax when he’s so overly excited. “W…when you say it like that, Lord Shu, it’s…”

 

“But it’s true,” Rei murmurs, taking his time in spite of previous warnings that he might not be able to be as kind as he likes. Feeling Natsume start to slowly open up, no matter how his brow furrows from overstimulation and tension, makes Rei careful, especially when he feels Natsume squirm and start to rock down, a shaky moan escaping from his throat. “Looking at you when you’re like this just reminds me…” His exhale is shaky, his eyes briefly sliding to Wataru. “We can have meals like this _all_ the time if you weren’t so greedy.”

 

“Is it greed…when he barely ever takes a bite?” Kanata languidly asks, swaying to the side to splay himself against Wataru in turn, arms lacing about his neck before his own teeth set briefly to his shoulder. “Mmnf.”

 

“It is absolutely greed,” Wataru says without the slightest trace of guilt, gently raking his nails down Kanata’s back. “Look at my gorgeous prize, Rei. If Natsume were yours, would you ever give him up, even for a moment? No, you’re just as jealous as I am. He’s the crown jewel of my hoard.”

 

Shu bends his head, and slowly sucks Natsume’s earlobe between his teeth, nibbling gently. “If you want something, little love, you must ask for it. Men like this…look at them. Tall, strong, powerful…if you don’t ask…they’ll just take what they want from you.”

 

Natsume’s eyes flutter wildly, biting into his own lower lip when Rei’s fingers curl deep, stroking, toying with him, leaving him to gasp and his eyes to unfocus. “But…” His head tilts back into Shu’s touch, lips parted. “But I _want_ them to take what they want from me.”

 

Rei laughs, low and throaty. “He’s like you, Shu,” he teases easily, and deliberately drags his fingers against that sweet spot inside of Natsume again, making him jerk and arch with a ragged breath, clutching at Shu as he squirms. “He wants all the attention, someone to dote on him, and someone to _overwhelm_ him. And he’s so, _so_ tight here…”

 

“D-don’t _talk_ about it,” Natsume moans, nearly twisting onto his side as his cock throbs, dripping between his legs, his thighs squeezing around Rei in spite of his ‘protests’, preventing him from pulling back at all.

 

“So cute,” Rei distractedly mutters, glancing back to Wataru again. “How do you not keep your cock in him all the time?”

 

“Because I love being hungry, unlike you,” Wataru says, unable to stop himself from nuzzling into Kanata’s neck, inhaling the scent of the sea, fresh and bracing. “Go on, Rei. You heard him. Take what you want. Tell him just how long you’ve been looking at him.”

 

His eyes narrow to slits, and he lets his gaze sharpen, meeting Natsume’s eyes. “Tell him how I had to put my spell on him, or you’d be all over him, trying to fuck him against every single surface you can find, every time you lay eyes on him.”

 

“He’s not wrong, you know.” Rei’s voice is soft, but no less hungry for it. His hand slowly pulls back, and he ignores Natsume’s gasping little whimpers, the way he shudders and twitches. “Everything about your magic calls to mine—or at least, that’s the excuse I’d _like_ to claim.” His hands are strong on Natsume’s thighs, forcing them open even when he shakes, not out of any protest, but out of simple, overstimulated _desire_. “The real facts of it are that you’re lovely, and I just want to fuck you until you’re begging, and then fuck you again.”

 

“Oh,” Natsume manages, his voice small but hungry, eyes glazed as he slumps back, hands clutching at the furs underneath himself. “I—“

 

The press of Rei’s cock makes his mouth fall open, thighs quivering, clamping to Rei’s waist. That first long, aching thrust takes effort, makes him gasp and pant and finally be bold enough to grab at _Rei_ , nails clawing bright red streaks down his back.

 

“When I saw you—after years of being with Wataru—I wanted to _eat you_ ,” Rei breathes into his ear, planting another, sucking bite to Natsume’s throat when his head lolls back with the first, shallow thrust. “You were so beautiful, with all of this lovely, blood-red hair, those gold eyes, your _lips_ —does he ever have you like that?” Rei grabs at Natsume’s face, thumb dragging over his bitten, slick lower lip. “A waste, if he doesn’t.”

 

“…Hungry,” Kanata mutters, eyes trained on the sight, his nails flexing into Wataru, mouth parted from distraction before he bites at his shoulder again, then into his neck. “Rei’s way…always makes me hungry,” he mumbles. “And I was _already_ hungry before.”

 

“Ahh…” Wataru’s breath catches, and his hand clenches for a moment, eyes glazing over, making him almost miss the way Natsume goes stiff, then pliant, then wild around Rei’s cock. “My friend…you can have me,” he breathes, tearing his eyes away and locking them with Kanata’s. “Or you can have his mouth. Isn’t he beautiful? Doesn’t he deserve to be…sampled?”

 

“If you don’t,” Shu says, shifting when the wash of Rei’s hormones makes him tense up, his own cock hard and eager despite the way Rei had fucked him to bonelessness, “I might need to. As long as Wataru’s properly trained—“

 

“Why are both of you so certain I never let him have a taste?” Wataru interrupts, baffled. “Look at that mouth, as if even I could resist.”

 

“Because it’s so big,” Kanata bluntly says, unable to resist reaching for it with one cool hand as he says that, fingers curling about it to squeeze. “And you’re s~o careful with him.”

 

“It w-would…be good…if he wasn’t,” Natsume dazedly says, eyes squeezing shut for a moment in half-bliss, half-achingly satisfying tension when Rei’s cock slides deeper with each thrust, opening him up, making him quiver and clench down. “Hurts…” _Don’t stop, don’t stop._

 

“Wataru’s isn’t the only one who’s _so big_ ,” Rei lowly teases, bending forward with another deep, grinding thrust, making Natsume gulp for a full breath. “None of us are less than generous, I think…mm, Shu, give him a taste. You can tell he needs it.”

 

Shu shifts, kneeling by Natsume’s head, stroking his hair for a long moment, gently guiding the head of his cock to rub against Natsume’s cheek, then his lips. “Is that true, Natsume?” he asks, watching Natsume’s face change, flickering through pain and pleasure and hunger in rapid succession, and how _well_ Shu knows that look, how well he knows how it feels to get Rei inside of him and never want to let that feeling escape. “Do you need something in your mouth? Do this, and I’ll return the favor, I’m the only one who can be trusted with human flesh between my own teeth…”

 

“I can be trusted,” Wataru protests, but he feels his control fraying, and with a low growl, he flips Kanata onto his back, grabbing his cock in turn. “My friend, you’re so bold, it’s as if you want me to get you ready for my little love.”

 

Natsume considers a nod, but mostly, that makes him nuzzle up towards Shu’s cock, pink tongue flicking out to taste. For some reason, he expected Shu to taste…prettier, but it’s better that he’s just as bitter and masculine as the two other cocks he’s tasted in his lifetime. It makes him groan, hungry and desperate, trying to better turn his head to suck Shu’s cock into his mouth.

 

“Look at him, he’s so pretty when he sucks cock,” Rei breathes, stilling, just for a moment, to let Natsume get his bearings. It doesn’t stop Natsume from squirming, suddenly just stuffed _full_ , and Rei’s hands slide to his hips, forcing him to still and _feel_ how deep his cock is in his ass. “He loves this. Don’t worry, you two, we’ll save plenty for you.”

 

Kanata giddily sprawls back, clawed fingers dragging back through Wataru’s hair as he arches up with a pleased sigh. “Good,” he purrs, teeth snapping against Wataru’s throat again, scraping hard enough to draw blood. “Because…I’m very… _very_ hungry. And Wataru’s so generous…to share…”

 

Despite Wataru’s big talk, his gaze hovers. He never _does_ make use of Natsume’s mouth, though Natsume is always eager enough. Kanata is right, and he’s deeply careful, so careful that he’d happily mock himself to shreds if he were anyone else, and seeing Natsume unable to talk, even when Rei is so uncareful with him…

 

For the first time, Wataru lowers a barrier he’s kept up in his mind for three centuries, and flicks a single, tiny line of telepathy out at Natsume. It’s nothing so long or coherent as words, a hole in his defenses so tightly constricted that only the barest brush of a thought can escape, just a hint of inquiry, gently questioning. _?_

 

Natsume grabs onto it without a moment’s hesitation, and clings.

 

_It’s good perfect so good hurts good good don’t stop DON’T STOP._

 

Whether Wataru meant for the timing to be so perfect or whether it was a simple, lucky mistake, that little reach of thought is time exactly when Natsume comes, spilling over his own stomach with a ragged, hiccuping gasp, a clutching hand that was reaching out towards Shu flopping helplessly into the furs, his eyes rolling back as his back arches at a taut, unrelenting arc.

 

“There’s one…” Rei hums, bending low to mouth at Natsume’s bared throat again, tongue dragging over the bite marks he’d already left behind as he moves again—slow, rhythmic thrusts that rock Natsume’s now much more pliant body. His eyes flick up, catching Wataru’s, watching the way that _he_ watches.

 

Wataru’s eyes flick to Rei, and he walls up that tiny hole, not trusting himself when every bit of his predatory instinct tells him to _fight, kill, rend limb from limb, demand what’s mine, protect what’s mine, destroy whoever touches what’s mine—_

 

He wrenches his eyes away with an effort, and bears Kanata down to the floor, grabbing his thighs and wrenching them apart. “Your human isn’t enough for you, is he?” he breathes, feeling dangerous, feeling overstimulated, needing to bite back with words rather than teeth, his preferred weapons always something borne by the air. “Does he roll over too easily, my friend? Does he burn too hot?”

 

Shu pulls himself out of Natsume’s mouth, cupping his cheeks with soft, cool hands. “What do you want now?” he asks, meeting Natsume’s eyes. “Tell me, use your words.”

 

Natsume sucks in a ragged breath, blinking hard to clear the overstimulated tears from his eyes as he stares up at Shu. “I…I don’t…”

 

“You’re so gentle with him, love,” Rei says with a soft laugh, grabbing one of Natsume’s hands to haul him upright, savoring the gasp and squeak that he draws from that pretty mouth when he rocks back, situating Natsume on his lap. Natsume sinks down with a groan, his chin hooking over Rei’s shoulder, arms limp around him as he squirms and shivers. “He wants us to play with him, that’s all. He has the prettiest back, doesn’t he? Especially with all that hair swinging down it.”

 

The view better afforded to Rei makes that troublesome, greedy little demon half of his own blood swell, especially when he can _see_ the rise he’s getting out of Wataru. For him to go after Kanata like that—yes, that’s quite the rise, and it’s _satisfying_ for reasons he can’t quite explain.

 

Kanata’s chest heaves as he stares up at Wataru, tongue running over his own fangs before his gaze slides to Rei, then back again. “Chiaki…is good,” he finally says, thighs tense before he draws one up Wataru’s side. “But…he breaks. You don’t. I don’t. Rei doesn’t. I bet…Natsume…wouldn’t either…”

 

“Maybe I’ll break you before you can test that out,” Wataru breathes, and just like that, as soon as he believes it, _wills_ it, there are no pesky clothes between them, their Nightcloaks flying off, everything else simply gone as he spreads Kanata’s thighs wide. “Want to find out if I can?”

 

“Rei,” Shu groans, coming up onto his knees, encircling Natsume’s waist from behind with his hands, holding him up on Rei’s lap. “He’s still so small, don’t break him.” A single touch of his mind makes it obvious that his “concern” is for show, just as Rei’s determination that he’ll take Natsume with or without permission is a show—but it must be a _good_ show, for all of them.

 

“He’s sturdier than he looks—aren’t you, love?” Rei murmurs, placing another, pointed bite to the side of Natsume’s neck, lingering there with a long hard suck that is intended to bruise. Natsume just writhes down, his hands pawing at Rei’s shoulders, trying to grip and brace and failing, his body slumping back pliantly into Shu’s grasp, clearly seeking that direction and attention. “I’m going to—eat you whole, I _swear_ —“

 

Another thrust, and Rei spills, his voice dropping to a rumbling, pleased groan, leaving Natsume to gasp and clutch at him when that hot, slick, mess fills him without warning.

 

Kanata watches this from where he’s sprawled, making no attempt to lift himself from the floor when his blood is thrumming in his ears, when it’s so easy to sink his nails into Wataru and drag him down. “Do it,” he whispers, his pupils odd, glittering little slits. “I’m hungry…and you…need to take that _edge_ off, or else…”

 

The threat isn’t just implicit, but _explicit_ , a demand to be fucked, be fucked or else it’s Natsume who’ll have to deal with that sharpness, that aggression, and Wataru’s gaze narrows.

 

“Then allow me to blunt that edge,” he breathes, and spreads Kanata’s thighs wide, sliding his cock deep inside with a single, almost brutal thrust, his magic easing the way _just_ enough to keep himself from injuring his friend. Kanata isn’t Rei, though, and he keeps his Hunger tamped firmly down, keeps it strangled off to the point of asphyxiation, only enjoying the most carnal, the most non-spiritual of hungers in that sweet, tight heat. “I won’t break either.”

 

Shu’s hands smooth up Natsume’s back, over the prickling marks of nails and rug burn left behind there. “Little love,” he says softly, kneeling up behind Natsume, pressing his chest against Natsume’s back. “you’re so full, aren’t you? And it’s just…the beginning of the evening…”

 

Kanata arches with a sharp, ragged hiss of breath, and his mouth immediately fastens to Wataru’s throat, biting down roughly, with none of the precision and care that Rei typically exhibits. The icy chill of Wataru’s blood shocks through him as if he’d dived back into that frozen lake, but just like that lake, it’s still almost soothing, washing over him and making him groan as he clutches and claws at Wataru’s back between long, deep gulps.

 

Kanata’s head finally falls back into the puddle of his own hair, the brighter, darker blues mixing with the pale wash of Wataru’s as it falls forward, and he clamps long legs tighter about Wataru with a breathy grunt of effort. There’s not a _sliver_ of yielding in his actions, no matter that he’s the one on his back, with his nails raking bright red streaks into Wataru’s skin.

 

Rei’s eyes wander, lidded and dark as he slowly, almost casually moves within Natsume’s body, milking his release for every single drop of pleasure. “…Why don’t you have him more thoroughly, Shu?” His eyes slide up again, catching his mate’s. “I can share. Only if you want, of course.”

 

“…If he wants,” Shu says quietly, eyes locking with Rei’s, letting his hands splay on Natsume’s belly, up over his chest, rubbing and plucking at his pert little nipples. “He’s still got Kanata to see to, after all. You of all people know how content I am to just…touch.”

 

Wataru fists a hand in Kanata’s hair, less a gesture of control, more a grip on a horse’s mane, clinging for dear life as he rides through the wild coupling, each thrust of his hips hard enough to hurt anyone else, anyone but one of _them_. “Blunt that edge on me,” he hisses, eyes dancing, magic so tightly controlled it doesn’t have a puff of air to breathe. “Take as much as you like, I hope you _freeze_ —“

 

“Then touch him as much as you want. I’ve always thought he was as pretty as a doll,” Rei muses, tilting Natsume back enough that he has to lean against Shu more, letting him feel the heat of Shu’s body as much as the touch of his hands. “Every time you dress him…he looks like a present, ready to unwrap.” Rei shivers, obviously recalling several occasions when he had _not_ been allowed to touch so liberally, and he can’t resist leaning forward, catching Natsume’s mouth with his own when Natsume whimpers, exhaling a hiccuping breath when Shu’s fingers pull on his nipples.

 

Kanata’s nails sink in, vicious little things that hold onto Wataru for all he’s worth, his teeth blunting their edge on his neck again for a far brisker bite than the last. “If you don’t do the same,” he rasps, wrenching one hand away to grab Wataru’s face, forcing him to look down at him, “you’ll hurt him.” Whether he’s referring to Rei or to Natsume remains to be seen. “A bite, take it, it’s fine. I know it feels good to _not_ , but…” _I trust you._ Even as weak as he currently is, Wataru getting out of hand is the least of his concerns, with both Rei _and_ Shu present.

 

Wataru lets out a strangled, suddenly whimpering little sound, as the invitation strikes him harder than any has in a long time. This isn’t Natsume, naively asking for something he doesn’t understand. This is Kanata, who knows his nature, who knows just what he can take, just what he can _take_ if he lets himself.

 

And just for a moment, just for a bite, he lets himself.

 

His eyes glow silver, skin turning pale, diamonds glinting in his very nature as the cold seeps out of him, his bones crystalline, visible through his skin, his very nature lashing out, sucking in whatever energy he can find, consuming it like the parched desert ground sucking up a stray glass of water thrown on it, absorbing Kanata’s very life force through his skin, through his words—

 

He cuts it off with an abrupt gasp, his skin flooding with color, leaving him shaken, pleased, and hungrier than ever, that flood of heat after so long in the cold of the upper atmosphere almost too hot, like a flame against frostbitten limbs. He cries out, turning his head away, before he finally relaxes, pressing kisses to Kanata’s face. “Thank you, my friend. Thank you, thank you, thank you, you’re so…very…excellent.”

 

“He’s impressive, isn’t he?” Shu murmurs, kissing Natsume’s neck. “That faerie you love. He could strip the life out of you at any second, is that something you like to think about?”

 

Natsume’s eyes remain locked on Wataru, even as his chest heaves, even as he shakily clings to Rei’s neck, even as he squirms back into the warmth of Shu’s chest. “…All the time,” he whispers, licking at his swollen lips. _Wataru._

 

The sound Kanata makes is a quiet, weak little purr, almost a gurgle, when he nuzzles up into Wataru’s neck, mouthing over the bites he left behind that still refuse to heal even after Wataru’s feeding. “I deserve…a present,” he sighs, slumping back. “I’ve done so much…”

 

“What would you like, darling?” Rei sweetly asks, petting a hand through Natsume’s hair. “Anything you like, just ask.”

 

“Mmnn…fish.”

 

Rei blinks, then bursts out laughing. “Is that better than cock to you?” he incredulously asks. “I can’t fathom that. Wataru, your kitten here _clearly_ desires your presence. I’ll trade you for Kanata.” The look on his face clearly says _see, I’ll give him back, I’m not here to challenge you._

 

An edge of tension in Wataru eases, and he takes Natsume’s hand, yanking him to his own lap. “I’m unwilling to give Kanata up just yet, though,” he murmurs, though his gaze is only for Natsume, brushing his hair back from his face. He presses kisses to his face, his dear, familiar face, eyes back to the twinkling pools they usually are, if a bit warmer, even more lively than normal. “I think Natsume deserves a second course of us, mm? And Kanata has been soooo obliging.”

 

Natsume immediately throws himself into Wataru’s chest, burying his face into his chest, trembling and overstimulated and clinging to his neck and hair no matter how weak and floppy his arms currently feel. “I can have a second course,” he mumbles, even as he shivers uncontrollably. “I—“

 

Kanata is on him from behind, quick as a snake, mouth on the back of his shoulders, nosing his hair aside as his cock slides against the perfect curve of Natsume’s ass. “My turn, then,” he murmurs, and doesn’t wait for agreement (it’s understood at this point, after all) before his cock catches against that slick hole, and pushes inside.

 

Natsume’s breath catches, high and breathy and even a little shrill, pressed up against Wataru just with Kanata’s first thrust. “O-oh,” he gasps, nails flexing into Wataru’s back. “I…ah…”

 

Rei happily collapses back, content to watch for the time being, nestled up against Shu. “ _This_ is the best part,” he sighs contently, his eyes glazed. “Just…basking, in all of the power…I haven’t been able to feed like this, since…gods, I don’t even know when…”

 

“Rei,” Shu whispers, an odd light dancing in his eyes, curling his arms around Rei’s middle, pulling him close. “I want something.” The magic in the room dances, buffeting Shu’s mind, waking dormant hungers.

 

Wataru watches Kanata sink into Natsume, his own hands holding Natsume lovingly, lowering him down. “Now is the time, my friend…to tell me that this is better than fish. Make sure you’re properly appreciating this gift.”

 

“ _He’s_ the fish,” Kanata purrs, taking a nip at Natsume’s neck just to feel him clench and shudder, sagging back into Kanata’s chest. “Just as delicious. Mmnn, and just as squirmy…Natsume…” Kanata’s fingers are careful even as he grabs and pulls Natsume where he wants him, not wanting to cut him open as he had Wataru so eagerly. “Rei’s right, you’re so cute…”

 

“Mm?” Interest piqued enough to rouse him from his languid basking, Rei turns his head to nuzzle at Shu’s throat. “Sex? Food? The kind of food _I_ like?” he lowly teases, nipping gently at Shu’s earlobe, tongue dragging around an earring. “The kind of food Wataru likes, perhaps…?”

 

Almost embarrassed, almost as if he’s expecting to be rejected, Shu swallows hard, looking away. Then he sucks in a breath, and leans down, kissing Rei’s neck, and lets his hand slide to Rei’s thigh, then, hesitantly, up between them.

 

Wataru’s hands close over Kanata’s, helping to guide them, helping Natsume move with him. “He’s a sweet meal, isn’t he? More than enough to feed all of us, more than enough to go around, more than enough to let all of us leave with full…bellies…How is that, Kitten? Nice and full again? Getting tired yet?”

 

Natsume’s head shakes slowly side to side, even though his flushed cheeks and the sweat dripping down the back of his neck saying otherwise. “No,” he breathes, shuddering, twitching when Kanata slides in _deep_ , as deep as Rei had, almost as thorough. His touch is cooler, rougher, in spite of Rei’s promises to be cruel to him, and that just makes him hard all over again, especially with Wataru’s voice silkily purring into his ear. “T-this…all of this…is perfect, don’t stop…”

 

Suddenly, paying attention to Natsume is difficult. Rei blinks, pauses, processes, and then, extremely carefully, as if he’s making sure not to scare off a very skittish animal that he wants to touch _very much,_ softy says, “You _know_ you can have that. Whatever you want, but absolutely that.”

 

Shu’s eyes are bright, and he surges forward suddenly, pressing Rei down to the thick furs, nestling between his thighs, the muscles in his legs spreading Rei’s apart. He nearly says something stupid, nearly begs— _don’t judge me, don’t make fun of me, I don’t do this as often as you do, don’t look at me too hard, this is so embarrassing_ —but he tamps that down. Surely, just for this evening, he can fake this, too.

 

Then his fingers, slick with a spell of his own whispering, press at Rei’s hole, sliding in smooth and slow, his eyes flickering with a hunger he never indulges. “I want you,” he whispers. “I want you to give yourself to me.”

 

Wataru watches Natsume’s face for any trace of pain, and finds just enough to make him smile. “You like it best when it’s rough, don’t you, Kitten? Am I too careful for you, do you think?”

 

For a moment, Rei contemplates hiding _exactly_ how pleased he is—then he decides that’s fundamentally against his nature, and he surges up, eagerly grabbing at Shu’s hair, dragging him down and kissing him hard.

 

“You can do _anything_ that you want to me,” he breathes, teeth gently catching at Shu’s lower lip, a long, excited shudder slithering down his back as he squeezes his thighs about Shu’s hips. Those careful, delicate fingers inside of him make his toes curl, his cock already quickly hardening between his legs. “As much as you like, whenever you like.”

 

Kanata bites again, more roughly this time, enough to actually draw welling blood to the surface with each prick of his teeth. That isn’t what makes Natsume gasp and reach out for Wataru, though—it’s the surge of Kanata’s cock inside of him, the way it seems to swell when he comes, filling him again with each pulse. He thinks about answering Wataru’s question, but just settles for a mindless nod, trembling as he does. “Y…you can be mean to me,” he whispers. “In…in bed. Then treat me like a lady everywhere else.”

 

“You’re more than a lady,” Wataru breathes, kissing Natsume hard, sucking on his tongue, then lifting him off of Kanata’s cock, finally properly reclaiming him within the circle of his iron-hard arms. “You’re my queen.”

 

Shu looks up, and the expression on his face flickers, and his confidence falters. “Oh…everyone seems to be done. Perhaps…”

 

Rei’s teeth grit. “Perhaps nothing,” he growls, grabbing Shu’s face up in his hands to turn his attention solely back to him. “ _Eat me._ Wataru, inform him of my preferences.”

 

“I’m not Wataru,” Kanata contently says, slowly flopping over backwards. “But even I know~…”

 

Natsume burrows himself directly into Wataru’s chest, shivery and pleased, his hands fisting into handfuls of his silvery hair. “I’m not done,” he petulantly says. “I don’t have to be done. I can…I can do more.”

 

“Now, now, my little love,” Wataru says indulgently. “No reason to be upset, I won’t finish with you so easily. In fact, hmm…”

 

He shifts, made far easier when there’s magic involved, until Natsume lies on his back next to Rei. “There, two powerful men who love nothing in this world so much as being on their backs and filled with cock,” he says cheerfully. “Shu, be a lamb and oblige him, or he’ll crawl into my bed for stories later, and I can’t have that.”

 

Shu’s cheeks burn, and he inhales a sharp breath through his nose, then shoves a hand on Rei’s chest, holding him down as he slides his cock deep inside. “Nnh—how _dare_ you imply—“ He bends his head, touching his forehead to Rei’s, his eyes burning as he pushes in. “I can breed you better than anyone, my lord.”

 

If he completely lacked shame before, then _certainly_ there is a negative void forming at this point.

 

Rei’s eyes roll back, thorough, already-sated bliss taking his breath away as his legs squeeze about Shu’s hips, the arch of his back welcoming that perfectly thick cock inside of himself eagerly. “Be kind—with your words,” he gasps, shivering hard. “Unless you want to make a puddle of me, love…hearing you taunt me…is arguably the most arousing thing in this world…”

 

Conversely, Natsume still has a firm hold on his own embarrassment, where his cheeks seem to rival his hair as he stuffs his face back into Wataru’s shoulder. “You don’t have to say it so _bluntly_ ,” he huffs in a whisper.

 

Wataru presses a kiss to the top of Natsume’s head, then urges his legs up, to encircle his own waist. “Just like that, love, relax for me. You’ve already had demons inside you today, but you’re mine, aren’t you?” He smiles, without gentleness, without kindness. “You are. And I’ll never let you go.”

 

Shu seizes Rei’s mouth with his own, kissing him with bruising force, possessing, eager, trying to lean into that burning heat of sudden hunger that suffuses him, that Rei seems to like so much. Perhaps that’s the demon part of him, buried deep, that Rei has always insisted he has. He presses in deep, and nips at Rei’s mouth, eyes closed. “Do you want me to be kind with my words? Or should I tell you how you look best like this, the Demon King on his back?”

 

 _This is proof I’m doing something right in my life,_ Rei enthusiastically decides as he clutches at Shu’s hair, dragging him into another wet, hot kiss, panting into his mouth when that perfect cock presses so deep that it makes his eyes roll back. “Ahh…fuck,” he mutters, incoherent and uncaring, rocking down against Shu’s cock, thighs quivering. “Never mind, don’t be nice, speak cruelly to me so I can remember it—ahh—the next time—I’m without you—“

 

Natsume slowly uncovers his flushed face, trembling legs sliding around Wataru’s waist with a slow squeeze. “I _am_ yours,” he whispers, clutching at a handful of Wataru’s hair. “So you should have me like I’m yours.”

 

“Like you’re mine,” Wataru echoes, and guides his cock to Natsume’s sore, stretched hole, easing it inside, grinding in slowly to prolong the sensation. Every inch of his cock spreads Natsume wide, and he exhales through his nose, feeling heat ripple through both of them. “It feels like more now, now you’ve had everyone else, doesn’t it? This is what’s meant to be inside you, Kitten. Always me. Only me. Now open for me.”

 

Shu nips at Rei’s neck, sharply enough to taste a drop of blood, and lets his hips snap in further, finally opening his eyes to look down at Rei. “You’re lucky,” he breathes, “that I’m taking you on your back, so you get to look at me while I do. The way you move…you must really need this, don’t you?”

 

Rei nods without hesitation, his hands dragging down Shu’s back to come and rest over the curve of his ass, pulling him in even deeper as he ruts against the thrusts of his cock, lips parted as he sucks in a ragged breath. “I _am_ lucky,” he whispers, eyes fluttering as his face flushes hot. “Fuck, yes, I need it—you look—so perfect when you’re fucking me—I’ll ride you, too, you can put me wherever you want me—“

 

Natsume’s world narrows to where Wataru’s cock sinks into him—thick and huge, making him wince and tense and whimper as he clutches at Wataru’s back. “H-hurts,” he whispers, fingers tangling up into huge fistfuls of Wataru’s hair. He’s right—after Rei and Kanata, it feels like _more_ , with how slick and sore he is inside, and that makes his toes curl, legs shaking uncontrollably. “Don’t stop, it’s…” _Good, good, good, I want to be yours, I don’t want you to ever look at anyone else—_

 

In surprising contrast to the hard thrust of his hips, Wataru’s lips are gentle as he seals them over Natsume’s, moving gently, teasing Natsume’s tongue with his, urging him farther to ecstasy, seizing him with gentleness as much as he does with the almost punishing rock of their bodies together.

 

“What if I want you all the time?” Shu breathes, feeling the hunger overtake him. At least, he thinks it must be the hunger—that fae side of him, that otherworldly, nonhuman part that he so often forgets about—because how else would he have lived this long without feeling like this? “Maybe I do…maybe I want to come home each night to you on your knees, begging me to serve you well.”

 

If Shu—perfect, beautiful, _gorgeous_ Shu—fucking him wasn’t enough, the words—the words, above and beyond, are enough.

 

Overwhelmed, overstimulated, Rei grasps and clings, arching up as the _image_ makes him spill with a trembling groan. His hips grind down, thighs clamped about Shu’s hips to keep him close, keep him _inside_ as their sticky skin drags against one another. “W-wrong…about…one thing,” he breathes, his head lolling back, tongue running over the tips of his fangs. “I’m the one…serving you…every time…Shu, you’re so perfect…”

 

There’s little left for Natsume to do _but_ cling—letting Wataru kiss him, fuck him, _have him_. He goes almost limp underneath the rock of his body, his eyes glazed when that cock fills him, hitting just—right—every _single_ time—

 

His orgasm takes him by surprise, making him arch and squeak and bite at Wataru’s lower lip with a hiccuping, desperate moan. His cock _keeps_ dripping, throbbing where it’s trapped between them, his chest heaving. “F-fuck—fuck, nhh—ah—“ His legs tremble, _keep_ trembling. “W-when you move—like that—it feels like it’s…”

 

Wataru’s mouth falls open, and he nearly loses control, nearly lets his magic spill out and over, swallowing everything he loves. He keeps it in when he comes, but just barely, keeping it confined to a shower of fireworks splattering over the ceiling, raining down on all of them as flower petals. “Feels like what?” he asks, stroking Natsume’s face. “Like you belong to me? You do. And I, you.”

 

Shu wrenches his gaze away from Wataru, filling his gaze with Rei, nothing but Rei, watching him with an almost frenetic desire. “You’re perfect, my lord,” he whispers, then gives in when an almost animalistic growl wells up inside of him, his muscles tense with the effort of taking Rei harder than he’s ever taken anything in his life.

 

Natsume shivers all over, and that shivering doesn’t stop, even when he’s sweat-soaked and underneath Wataru’s heavy, warm weight. “Keep saying that,” he whispers, stuffing his face against Wataru’s hand. “Say it again, and again, and don’t _forget_ , you stupid…”

 

Rei melts down, grabbing at a handful of the furs to brace himself against each of Shu’s thrusts, his other hand smoothing down his back. “Take—whatever you want,” he breathes. “Anything, everything…bite if you want, you can drain me dry.”

 

“Fool,” Shu groans, feeling his skin prickle all over, his blood rush hot to his fingertips, his belly burning with hunger as he drives into Rei over and over. “I have—human teeth, I—“

 

But it doesn’t matter, nothing matters except how _good_ Rei feels inside him, except how much he wants Rei to take what he wants—no, it’s different, _he’s_ the one taking what he wants, and the power of that electrifies him, makes him gasp, tips him over the edge until he’s spilling inside of Rei, feeling the weird heat as he pulses deep inside of his lover. He gasps, and collapses on top of Rei, going boneless, graceless, utterly limp. “Ah…my lord…mhmmnhmm.”

 

Rei exhales a long, low purr, arching up with a long shiver as he wraps both arms slowly around Shu, keeping him close. “That’s it, love, _just_ like that,” he sighs, winding his legs about Shu to keep him _inside_. “Mmmn…you’d be surprised what magic can bring about, maybe you’ll have sharp little fangs one day…”

 

Shu smiles, and reaches down between them, wrapping elegant fingers around Rei’s long, thick cock, stroking and squeezing. “I’ll get better at this,” he mutters. “How you always serve me so well from your end…”

 

Rei lurches up with a throaty groan, nails biting into Shu’s back at the sudden touch. “Y-you serve me—very well, _trust_ me,” he gasps, his eyes fluttering wildly as he rocks up into Shu’s perfect, soft hand. “If you as much as _breathe_ on me—I…nhh…c-can keep going, or come, a few more times? Or get hard again, roll over, I’ll ride it—“

 

“…You gotta pull out,” Natsume sleepily mumbles, giving Wataru’s shoulder a useless little swat. “Sore. Too many.”

 

“Only of your body,” Wataru says around a yawn, gently doing as requested before cuddling Natsume close. “I’ll never pull out of your mind, my sweet.”

 

Shu pauses, possibilities flooding him, and suddenly, his cock starts to rise again, and he rolls them, yanking Rei up on top of him. “Show me the services I’ve been too demure to partake in,” he breathes. “Show me how the Demon King looks riding me.”

 

“You’re gonna start overflowing~…” Kanata dreamily says from where he’s a puddle on the blankets.

 

“Good,” Rei sighs, settling over Shu’s hips with a pleased, soft noise, rocking down in a slow, easy roll of his hips, his hair dripping down over his shoulders and back. “It’s been awhile, since I’ve been so well-fed…” His hands slide up Shu’s chest, thumbs dragging over his nipples as he squeezes down around his cock. “Nnn…Shu, you feel…so perfect inside, like you’re meant to be there…”

 

Natsume stuffs his face into Wataru’s chest with a shudder, trying not to look, and failing more than once. “Lord Rei is so, _so_ …” The proper, descriptive word fails him.

 

“He becomes whatever the person with him wants,” Wataru murmurs, stroking his fingers up and down Natsume’s spine, gently soothing him. “Don’t think about it too hard.”

 

“Wrong,” Shu breathes, his body alight, eyes locking with Rei’s as his hips flex, rocking deep up into Rei. “He’s what I want. Always. Aren’t you, my lord?”

 

Rei’s mouth falls open as Shu’s cock slides in impossibly deep, his body clenching down hard. His nails flex into Shu’s chest, slowly kneading, the burn in his thigh muscles making him groan as he moves. “Ah…y-yes, whatever you want,” he pants, a droplet of sweat beading at his hairline and then slowly dripping down. “Shu…you feel so good, I almost…don’t wanna come, so we can just—keep going…”

 

“Pretty,” Kanata murmurs, slithering over towards Wataru, unabashedly seeking attention of his own. “Nnff. That’s a looot of magic. Good. Tasty.”

 

Wataru curls his other arm around Kanata, unrepentantly petting both him and Natsume, his water and his fire, breathing in some of the excess spillage from their friends. “Mm, not bad at all,” he says, eyes lidded. “That’s just…ah, it tastes almost like berries, doesn’t it? Berries and chocolate.”

 

Shu’s face turns. “Don’t mention food while I’m—ah, Rei, _my love_ —“

 

His hands dig in, squeezing Rei’s hips, and he shoves in deep, deliberately grinding over where he thinks it must be, if Rei’s body is like his own—

 

Rei clamps a hand over his mouth, reflexively stifling the cry that almost escapes his throat, and he spills, helplessly, unrepentantly over Shu’s stomach and chest, bending forward over him with long, ragged gasps leaving his lungs. “Fuck, oh fuck, Shu, you’re—you have—the _best_ cock, _fuck_ ,” he groans, a hand planting solidly next to his head, the muscles in his arms bunching from the effort to keep himself upright as his hips still languidly grind down.

 

Shu’s smile is leonine as he watches Rei lose himself, as he watches Rei squirm and writhe because of _him_ , because of what _he’s_ done, because _he_ has tapped into this darker, hungrier nature. He licks his lips, hands tight, and gasps, harsh and panting, as he fills Rei again, his knuckles gone white. “Oh…oh, my love, my lord, my love…”

 

Rei sucks in a long, shuddering breath, and flops forward, his arms wobbling as they give out. “Ah,” he breathes, staying _right_ there, right where he lands, except he turns his head to bury his face directly into Shu’s neck, inhaling. “You…are perfection,” he whispers, mouthing a kiss to the shell of Shu’s ear.

 

Shu’s long arms come up, tangling around Rei, pulling him down to rest body to body, as if he can drag in the heat from Rei with desire alone. “I,” he says softly, buried in Rei’s hair, “would be so very incomplete without the part of me that loves you.”

 

“…Likewise.” Rei nuzzles up against him, gingerly, carefully separating their lower bodies before settling completely and dragging his Nightcloak over to blanket them both. “Mm…I wish _you_ would knock me up, too,” he absently, wistfully says.

 

Shu smiles, and drums his fingertips against Rei’s spine, gently, like raindrops. “I’ll just sculpt us one out of silver and glass.”

 

“…Or Wataru can get creative again,” Rei murmurs, his eyes sliding over towards Wataru. “Consider it, at some point.”

 

“I’m always considering creativity,” Wataru drawls. “How creative shall I be? Would you like an owl this time?”

 

“Don’t encourage him,” Shu says with a sigh. “Is now really the time? Perhaps we should…fix this wild country of ours first.”

 

“That’s why I said ‘at some point’,” Rei grouses, nosing at Shu’s hair. “Be sweet to me, I’m overstimulated and you’re beautiful. But _no owls_ , Wataru. Human-shaped babies only.”

 

“ _Limiting_ ,” Wataru says, shaking his head. “No imagination.”

 

“I wouldn’t want an owl coming out of me, either,” Natsume mutters, snapping his teeth against Wataru’s neck. “Too weird.”

 

“Mmhm. Too weird.” Rei presses an affectionate kiss to Shu’s mouth once more before forcing himself to sit up with a luxurious stretch. “Ahh…that’s the kind of high I want to be, not from some filthy creature of the depths,” he mutters, climbing to his feet and swirling his Nightcloak about himself. “Let’s see. First things first—Kanata, are you well enough now to pull our precious charges from the depths of that lake?”

 

“I can be…” Kanata wiggles his toes, not yet rising.

 

“Good. Shu.” Rei’s eyes slide back to him. “What are your thoughts on paying a visit to the Shadowlands with me?”

 

“Keep me close,” Shu warns, stretching slowly out. “Or I won’t be responsible for the well-being of any creature that attempts to separate us.”

 

“Very good. We need to deliver some precious cargo to Ritsu…and then you can decide if you want to stay there, or come with me.” Rei exhales. “Up North.”

 

Natsume growls underneath his breath at that. “Better than you and Lord Kaoru,” he murmurs into Wataru’s chest, apropos of nothing. “Safer.”

 

“Mm?” Wataru asks, eyebrow raised. “Better who than who, Kitten?”

 

“Wait, wait,” Shu interrupts. “Why is there cargo in the lake?”

 

“Ah. I neglected to finish telling you about that.” Rei hesitates, then very calmly, relates: “Eichi decided to make an attempt on both Izumi and Arashi. That’s what I meant, earlier…when I mentioned Kanata had been healing them.”

 

“In the lake,” Kanata softly pipes up, struggling half-heartedly through the process of dressing himself. “It’s always better, in the water…”

 

Natsume says nothing for another moment, then wiggles against Wataru again, seeking warmth. “Lord Rei and Lord Shu—better than Lord Rei and Lord Kaoru. Lord Kaoru…doesn’t need to go North.”

 

Shu blinks slowly, and strokes Rei’s hair as he sits up, getting to his feet with a surprising amount of dignity and grace. “And the child? Don’t look at me like that, Rei, your mind has been open to me since I arrived, obviously I know who he is and what he is.”

 

Rei opens his mouth, then shuts it again. “At the risk of you slapping me,” he says, very frankly, “I will ask you to clarify which child you mean. There are several troublesome children floating around in our mess of a world right now.”

 

“I was referring to the one that you and Kaoru had, via Wataru, I can tell he’s close.”

 

“Ah. Yes.” Rei weakly points to a doorway. “Just down the hall. Do you…want to meet him? I originally was trying to have him sent to you, for safekeeping…”

 

“What’s his name?” Shu asks, trying to keep a fond smile off of his face and failing spectacularly.

 

“…Scold me, but we haven’t even had a chance to do that,” Rei admits with a laugh, suddenly feeling weary in spite of the intense, surging magic inside of him. He reaches for Shu’s hand, tugging him towards the hallway door. “I needed him out of that camp. Eichi kept threatening to eat him, it was awful.”

 

“Give him to me,” Shu demands. “He’s mine now.”

 

“Oh. I see, that’s fair. Hold on, then.”

 

Rei briskly steps down the hall, and returns from the bedroom a moment later, tiny blonde child wrapped in blankets in hand.

 

Shu takes the child immediately, looking down at his face and letting out a weird little sound. “Well. This fine gentleman is going to be nice and safe with me, that’s my job for the time being.”

 

Rei nearly sags with relief. “I was worried you wouldn’t want to,” he quietly says. “Thank you. I’m going to take Izumi and Arashi into the Shadowlands to better heal and be protected—do you want to take him there, too? Or if you have other plans, I trust you completely.”

 

Shu thinks for a moment, frowning. “What,” he slowly asks, “are the consequences of a child, a human child with paladin blood, spending time in the Shadowlands at such a tender age?”

 

“…It’s likely his demon blood would take over, in order to protect him,” Rei says, folding his arms restlessly. “But it’s not exactly…a common practice, so I can’t say for sure.”

 

“Right, then we’re not going to do that,” Shu decides. “Mm. No. No, no. This is more important.” He shakes his head, lips thinning. “I’ll take him the opposite direction, just making sure that none of the nonsense up there spills over. I’ll go to the Sandlands with him.”

 

 _That’s so far, what if something happens?_ Rei chews on his lower lip, then nods, _forcing_ himself to nod. “All right. I know Mika headed this way because of Arashi…do you want me to send him back your way, so you aren’t all alone? Or I can send the twins with you, or even Mao…”

 

Shu reaches up, cupping Rei’s jaw with his free hand. _Send the twins with me. They’ll be safe with me, and are useful lookouts, we’ll be safest like that. My magic can shield them from being detected by even the best demon-finders, but don’t speak this aloud, even here._

 

Rei butts his head firmly into Shu’s hand, pressing a soft kiss to his palm. _Thank you. I’m loathe to part with you; you’re the only thing that keeps my head on straight, most of the time._ “Alone, then,” he murmurs aloud. “But stay in touch. I’ll keep our bond open, until we absolutely can’t stand it. All right?”

 

“Until we absolutely can’t stand it,” Shu agrees, closing his eyes for a moment. “But if you don’t name him now, just so you know, he’ll have a name by the end of this, and it won’t be up to you any longer.” _Be safe, my lord. Look at my face. How dare you threaten someone as beautiful as me with the loss of you?_

 

 _If I look at you, I’m not going to let you go._ “That sounds better, actually,” Rei softly says, cracking a smile. “Kaoru and I would never be able to come to an agreement, anyway. He lies and says he wouldn’t want a traditional paladin’s name, but then he’d try to give him one.”

 

“I’m not giving him a traditional demon’s name, if that’s what you’re asking,” Shu says, amused. “Well. I’ll deal with that. Where’s his wetnurse?”

 

“He’s well over half-human, he doesn’t need a demon’s name,” Rei sniffs. “Even if he will be the next Demon King. Hinata?”

 

Hinata trots out, tugging his sleepy brother along with him. “Goat’s milk,” he cheerfully supplies. “We have lots. But, um, he doesn’t…drink as much, like a normal baby would…”

 

“ _That’s_ the demon blood.” Rei wiggles his fingers. “Spooky, yet convenient. If he stops breathing and functioning for days on end, he’s probably fine.”

 

“Is it the demon’s blood,” Shu asks patiently, “that makes him go for quite a while without food if he needs to? Or does he just not need much? Please be specific, will he have to eat a young goat to make up for this?”

 

“Maybe!” is the in-unison chiming that both Rei and Hinata offer up, complete with a beaming smile from Hinata, and a slightly wry one from Rei.

 

“Unfortunately, you’re left to experiment. He’s three-quarters human…but what remains is Bloodbred, and Greenbred. It’s an odd mix. In me, it manifested that I was born a proper Cambion…I didn’t even breathe, let alone wake to harass my mother until seven years later. In my son…” Reishrugs a shoulder, reaching a hand over to gently brush a thumb over his sleeping son’s cheek. “Who knows.”

 

“He’s woken up already,” Yuuta assures Shu, “so probably not that one. He cried and sucked at a rag teat.”

 

“I’m sorry, at a what?” Shu asks pleasantly.

 

“Rag-teat.You dip the rag in the warm goat’s milk, then you let him suck on it,” the little demon says, as if everyone should know about such a thing. “It’s how you raise feral kits.”

 

Rei smiles at Shu _ever_ -so-sweetly. “Aren’t they adorable? They’re helping.”

 

“Yes, well, I hope they’ll be some help to you in the North,” Shu says briskly, and bundles the child more tightly. “Do you have swaddling clothes for him?”

 

“Just the blanket,” Hinata says, swinging his legs. “That’s how he came packaged.”

 

Shu blanches. “Not even a nappy?”

 

“Um…there’s more cloth underneath, I think? I’m not a mom.”

 

“This was _meant_ ,” Rei firmly says, “to be a temporary solution, as they were headed to you in High Harbor, originally.”

 

“I packed all of his things originally, it’s all there,” Natsume interrupts, sounding all the world like he’s been through a hurricane as he finally forces himself up, thoroughly wrapping himself up into a cloak for decency’s sake and stumbling over. “I’ll find all of it, I saw it in the bedroom—“

 

“You’re a little unsteady on your feet, love, why don’t you let us do that?” Rei gently teases, catching Natsume before he can stumble. “Though your dedication is admirable.”

 

“…need something to do, or my Sight’s gonna go…everywhere,” Natsume mutters, sounding somewhat stressed. “Too much magic around.”

 

“Ah. Go on, then.” Rei releases him, glancing back to Shu. “Did I tell you? The king pitched a royal fit when I told him I wanted Natsume to eventually take over in my stead.”

 

Shu sighs. “You weren’t to tell him until Natsume was a little more…polished.” He squeezes Rei’s arm, and leans up for a soft kiss. “Ah. This is terrible. Now that it’s time…I don’t feel as if I can leave you.”

 

He doesn’t add anything else, but the bond is open, echoing with the truth of emotion everything they’re saying aloud, and more. _I can’t shake the feeling that something terrible is going to happen if we part._

 

“I told him as much, but one cannot see the rose for the thorns, as is common with kings,” Rei murmurs, leaning forward to catch Shu’s mouth again. _The only terrible thing is that we’re parting. Stay safe and don’t worry about me._ “He brought it up, trying to give the Academy back to hellspawn…absolutely not, ugh.”

 

“Here.” Natsume emerges, dropping the bag at Shu’s feet before making it two more steps, and promptly passing out.

 

“Ah, there he goes. Prophets, honestly…Wataru, come collect him, at least _try_ to tamp down on everything around here, for his sake,” Rei frets, clumsily reining his own magical spread in. Being so close to the Shadowlands, it’s nearly impossible, but needs must.

 

Wataru lifts Natsume in his arms easily, then carries him to a bed that materializes at his belief, cushioning him with the softness of clouds. “As soon as Shu is gone, we’ll need to have a bit of a war council, no? And Rei…”

 

He looks around, eyes shining as he takes in the three of them still standing, a couple diamondine tears falling down his cheeks. “Please never doubt that I will not be loyal to this group again. You were right to question me, before. But not now. You will always be…what is most dear to me.” His voice rings with the clarion-clear sound of belief.

 

Rei offers up a small smile and strides over, catching a handful of Wataru’s hair to gently tug him over. “I know,” he simply says, leaning in to steal a kiss. “But thank you for saying it. And thank you, more than anything, for staying with him.”

 

He turns, glancing back to Shu. “You should go—sooner, rather than later. If there’s anything I can do to make your trip easier…just ask for it.”

 

Shu makes a brief move, as if to kiss Rei, then pulls back, conflict on his face as he turns away, holding the child close to himself as he walks briskly through the house.

 

As he opens and shuts the door, a phantom press of lips ghosts across Rei’s. _I couldn’t do it and still leave. My heart is yours._

 

_I’m the same. I wouldn’t be able to let you leave._

 

Rei sucks in a deep breath, pulls up a rickety chair, and sits, warming himself by the fire. “Now,” he quietly says, lacing his fingers together. “Let’s discuss what we must do.”

 


	32. Chapter 32

 

Not for the first time—in fact, quite as usual—Hiyori is of two minds.

 

On one hand, he is _finally_ heading up North, and can feel Nagisa growing closer day by day, mile by mile, step by step. His bond thrums, embarrassing, an all-too-human emotion that makes him feel oddly young for the first time in…well, that doesn’t matter. He hardly has the telepathy of some, or the deep resonant emotion of others, but he can still _feel_ his mate, as if he’s growing closer and closer to where he’s supposed to be, to his eternal place.

 

On the other hand, it’s cold, and Eichi is grumpy, and that’s _awful_.

 

“Why can’t we steal a carriage?” Hiyori complains, glaring as his left foot plunges into an icy puddle, sending shards of ice flying. “I should have just stolen the horses, but nooooo, you said they’d leave too much evidence. Why not just kill some villagers? Surely even up here, _someone_ is going to have a nice, plush, warm carriage. How much farther is it?”

 

Eichi whips his head around, teeth bared, sense of humor gone. “ _Far_ ,” he grinds out, unable to resist reaching out to grab Hiyori by the cloak and wrench him close. “If you keep complaining, I’m going to _eat you._ If you want to kill a villager for their horses, _you_ can do it, because as I’ve said a million times, I’m not having _anyone_ track us down. You could try being more grateful; I’m taking you back to your mate, aren’t I?”

 

Hiyori snarls, and slashes at Eichi’s face with his fingernails, grown to black claws. It isn’t a true engagement, just a warning swipe, before he goes back to walking sulkily. “You think I should act _grateful_ that you’re finally fulfilling your part of the bargain? He did you his duty, as his progenitor, but you’ve been taking your bloody time!”

 

“After _you_ took your bloody time bringing pieces of me from the depths! It’s not _my_ fault you were so slow and wasteful that I came back too weak to do this _quickly_ ,” Eichi hisses, deliberately stepping onto the back of Hiyori’s cloak to stop him from moving forward. “ _Time_ is a much different construct here, Hiyori. You’d do well to bite your tongue and shut up about what you don’t understand.”

 

“I don’t have the same powers here that I should!” Hiyori snarls. “You didn’t tell us that the humans have sucked and prodded and mined all of the magic from this accursed country, so even casting a candle’s flame takes a monumental effort—and you didn’t say there would be a dragon, or a drake, or whatever the hell that blond guy was! You’ve been making me do _way_ more than he agreed to and you know it!”

 

“Complain all you want. He’s the one that wants to be here as much as I do.”

 

Eichi yanks back on Hiyori’s cloak, using it as a leash to draw him closer. “It’s not _my_ fault they all swarmed on me,” he lowly says. “If you’re angry with anyone, it should be the Demon King. He sticks his nose where it doesn’t belong every single time.”

 

“You’ve really lost your touch,” Hiyori sneers. “In your prime, you would have been able to outwit him, now you can’t even outmaneuver him. How long did it take him to steal your fae plaything _and_ your mate out from under you?”

 

Eichi’s face ices over in an instant, even irritation flooding away from it as he grabs Hiyori by the throat, slamming his back into the withered, iced-over husky of a tree.

 

“He’s stolen _nothing_ from me,” is the low, too-level rumble of his voice. “He can’t touch my mate, and Wataru is _still_ mine. Rei and that whore prophet are the same—temporary amusements, but far too soft, far too _gentle_ for his eyes to linger there.” Eichi’s fingers tighten, black talons flicking out to press into Hiyori’s skin. “What the hell do you know, anyway? You don’t even know what a paladin is. Idiot.”

 

Hiyori opens his mouth to protest, but Eichi is squeezing, and this _isn’t_ getting him any closer to Nagisa. Instead, he lets out a whine of capitulation, letting his head loll nonthreateningly to the side. “F-fine, fine. You’re right, I just…haven’t been here long enough to understand things, all I know is archdemons…”

 

Eichi stares at him, squeezing once more, just to prove his point, before releasing Hiyori with a shove. “Stop criticizing it so heavily, then,” he sharply says. “Your mate wants to stay here. That was part of the deal, and you _know that_ , so you should start enjoying yourself.” He huffs, turning away back towards the path, straightening his cloak. “If you weren’t such a little shit, I might educate you. I _might_ even get us a warm place to stay for the night.”

 

Hiyori puffs out a breath, and scrambles after Eichi, tugging forlornly on his cloak. “I’ll be good, I’ll try, I…I’ve never been away from him for so long.” It’s a calculated risk—Eichi might just snap and decapitate him, but he might, _might_ actually understand his plight, being away from his mate.

 

Eichi scowls, seconds away from irritably brushing him away before he thinks, vaguely, as much as he dares, of how uncomfortable it is for Leo to be so…far. That’s _annoying._ It never used to hurt like that before. “Fine,” he mutters, trudging moodily through the snow. “I’ll see what I can do.”

 

The next inn they come across amongst the tiny, mostly empty border towns of the North fortunately doesn’t ask questions when two handsome, strange men need a room for the night—and they don’t ask for money, after a flash of a stolen Kingsguard pin is offered up. The room is small, but decently warm, and Eichi _supposes_ it’s fine to thaw here. “Don’t get on the bed when you’re still covered in snow, at least strip first,” he exasperatedly says. “It’ll melt and everything will be soaked—ugh, how did you not get outed in the Capital for being so uselessly not human…”

 

“I said I was foreign,” Hiyori says with a shrug. “They thought I was adorably eccentric. I think I’m cute.” He strips off his clothes, leaving them in a wet, freezing pile to thaw by the fire, and sighs in relief. He looks back at Eichi, hesitates, then bites his lip. Eichi looks almost as miserable as Hiyori feels, and damn, all this time in the human world must be getting to him. He walks over to the bed, then sits, shoulder to shoulder with Eichi. “Sorry he’s not here.”

 

Eichi has half the mind to tear out his throat, right then and there.

 

It’s an irrational action, sure, but it would probably _feel_ good to vent that frustration, even if it wouldn’t actually do anything. Hiyori won’t die, and it won’t make this easier. He doesn’t even _want_ Hiyori to die, not really. He’s just…tired.

 

“Who?” Eichi mutters, pulling the tie free from his hair at the back of his neck and scrubbing a hand back through it. “My mate? Adorable of you to think I’m missing _him._ ”

 

“I can turn into him, if you want,” Hiyori offers quietly. “I should have enough power, at least for tonight.”

 

“And then what, you’ll be weak and tired for the rest of the way up North?” Eichi throws himself back with a respectable thump, the mattress giving way a bit underneath his weight. How rude of it. “You don’t know what it’s like, you know.”

 

“What, having a mate? I do.” Hiyori frowns. “Or do you mean the Dark Depths? Because I’ve been there, too.”

 

“No. To have a mate that you didn’t ask for.”

 

Eichi’s eyes slit as he looks up to Hiyori. “I wanted someone else. I still do. Leo…hm. It isn’t that I don’t care—ah, but I do resent this. The situation. Him. All of it. He feels the same about me, it’s obvious.”

 

There’s a flash of sudden, stark pain in Hiyori’s eyes, and he turns away, a little too quickly. “You don’t know I don’t know what that’s like. Just because I’ve been his for centuries…doesn’t mean he was the first one I wanted.”

 

“No?” Eichi’s head cocks, his eyes sliding after Hiyori. “He seems quite smitten with you. He _was_ rather reluctant to let me borrow you.”

 

“I didn’t say I’m not happy to be with him,” Hiyori says quickly, though hearing that Nagisa was reluctant warms him. “Just that…before it happened, it wasn’t what I was looking for. He was so much younger than me, you know?”

 

“Aww. You like older men. How adorably human of you.”

 

“You’re horrible. You’re nothing like the stories they used to tell about you, you know.”

 

“Mmm? I’m not?” Eichi rolls onto his side, propping his chin in one hand. “Maybe you’ve just heard bad stories. At least you’re true to everything I’ve ever heard; you’re a real princess.”

 

“I’m the most powerful and talented archdemon my entire line has ever produced, it’s not _my_ fault you have no idea how to utilize me,” Hiyori says with a huff, tucking his legs up to his chest. “Being in a human body is weird, it’s like going through adolescence again.”

 

“Mm…I suppose there is some period of adjustment,” Eichi allows, fingers drumming slowly against his cheek. “And I think I utilize you just fine. You’re clumsy in the human world. Allowing you to stretch and actually _use_ what strength you’ve been given…well, you’d kill half the Capital.”

 

“So?” Hiyori cocks his head. “Have you seen how the humans have been breeding now? When they used to talk about us going after villages, sure, but you could fit a hundred, a _thousand_ of those villages into the Capital! They can spare plenty.”

 

“ _So_ if you do that, then they won’t _like you_ ,” Eichi slowly explains, as if he’s talking to a small child. “And they won’t do as you say easily. They’ll hate you, resent you, and send forces against you. It’s inconvenient and bloody.”

 

“We let them get too proud,” Hiyori says sadly. “They don’t fear us anymore, they don’t send sacrifices anymore. Maybe we should just leave this place. Start over somewhere else, bring a small herd to breed for food.”

 

“Oh, they fear us. That’s not the issue. They’re plenty afraid. There are just so many of them—every time _anything_ from the Shadowlands, never mind the Depths, try to do something…it’s not like pulling teeth, it’s like cutting off a hand.” Eichi’s lips purse. “I’ve lived alongside humans for a long, long time. They need to be controlled, but not kept like livestock. They’ll figure out ways to ruin plans like that. Blooming, for example.”

 

“Yeah, that’s annoying! How do we make them stop doing that?”

 

“You don’t. Some humans are wizards, that’s just how it is.”

 

“Can we breed that out of them? Like we used to pick off the really tall ones back in the day to keep them from getting uppity?”

 

Eichi pauses, staring at him. “No. Human wizards are sterile, anyway. Why are you so obsessed with controlling them to that degree? I mean, you can do it subtly, but you can’t _tell them_. They’ll never let you stay here.”

 

Hiyori’s head cocks, and his eyes narrow. “Have you forgotten what you _promised_ , to get Nagisa to lend me to you? That we would finally take our places as their rightful rulers? And now you’re talking about living with them and making subtle influence…we’re not going to claw his army’s way out of the Pit just so you can live in harmony with your mate.”

 

“Rulers in the human realm can’t play at being the owners and masters of slaves. There’s no reason you can’t help rule here,” Eichi sighs, fluttering a hand. “But you’re an idiot if you think you can do it in the way that you’re talking about. The Demon King _will_ toss you back to where you came from; he likes this place just as much as I do, possibly even more.”

 

Hiyori nearly says something very, very bad, and catches himself at the last instant. It’s not _fun_ to be thrown around, constantly manhandled and grabbed and clawed at, all because Eichi is annoyed with him. He huffs out a breath, and swallows his objections with a noncommittal, “You’re probably right. I haven’t been here long enough to know.”

 

“Say it. You’re more annoying when you bite your tongue, somehow.”

 

“Fuck you. I’ll start being honest with you when you stop hurting me for it.”

 

“I’m too tired to chew on you. If you could speak your mind without saying it in a way that pissed me off every time, maybe I’d be nicer, Your Royal Highness.”

 

“You don’t appreciate me,” Hiyori mutters. “I’ve gotten nothing out of this. Which would be fine if we were operating under demon rules, but you’ve been acting like a human the whole time we’ve been here.”

 

“Have I? To you? I’ve done nothing but demand what _you_ _should_ be giving me, as someone lesser than me. I think you’re just used to Nagisa, who spoils you.” Eichi snorts. “Good luck having him continue to do that, when he has a drude lingering about.”

 

“Don’t mention that thing,” Hiyori says sharply, his teeth suddenly gleaming. “He won’t be around much longer. Why don’t you just take care of him, like you did the last one?”

 

Eichi’s mouth purses, his expression clouding. “Because this one isn’t mine. I can’t deal with someone else’s…parasite.”

 

“I could probably…probably do it,” Hiyori says, not entirely certain if he’s right. “He’s Nagisa’s, and he’s my mate, so…”

 

“If you actually used your bond to the fullest, you…probably could,” Eichi settles upon. “Expressing enough of your displeasure would do it. But you’re going to deal with Nagisa being furious with _you_ until you get rid of that thing. Are you honestly telling me you can do that?”

 

“Why would he be mad at me?” Hiyori protests. “I’ve done what I said I would, it only took this long because of you.” Privately, he’s entirely certain that meeting with Nagisa again won’t be anything like Eichi expects, but that’s something he’s been able to hide for months, now.

 

“It has nothing to do with you,” Eichi almost gently corrects. “He’d be angry if you wanted him to get rid of the drude. They attach themselves like parasites, and their hosts…well, their hosts are smitten. The insinuation that the drude is bad for him will make him furious with whoever says that.”

 

“No, he wouldn’t!” Hiyori feels the bedsheet shredding under his claws, jaw clenched. “He’s smarter than that. He—I’ll kill the drude, that’ll free him.” There are some very scary things he’s felt from Nagisa, sure, but he couldn’t be _smitten_. “Or when he sees me, he’ll figure it out, he’ll remember.”

 

Eichi shakes his head as he sits up, reaching out to grab Hiyori’s wrists, stilling his clawing. “It doesn’t _work_ like that,” he lowly says. “Hiyori. You play dumb, but stop it for a moment. The Nagisa you know—he’s going to be different. Consider already…do you really think he’d so easily lend you to me, if not for the influence of the drude? That thing wants to be here, out in the sunlight, away from the depths. I was the ticket…with your help.”

 

“No, no, no,” Hiyori mutters, rolling over and stuffing his face into the pillow. “He’ll see me, he’ll snap right back, it’s not his fault we’ve been apart, anyone would get a little…strange…after that long…”

 

Frustration bubbles up, and Eichi grabs him by the shoulder, flipping him over, and pinning him down, teeth bared to reveal his fangs. “Do you want me to _help you_ ,” he hisses, “or do you want to go back to a mate that _hates_ you? I can be your biggest ally, but you need to _listen to me._ ”

 

Hiyori’s eyes fly open wide, and he stares up, his own teeth retracting, his hands shaking. “I—yes, all right,” he says, without really wanting to, feeling helpless. “You can? You can make him…like he was?”

 

“I can try.” Eichi leans back, relaxing his hold and reaching up to pet Hiyori’s hair slowly instead. “But I don’t know what I’m going into. You were with him when he contracted with the drude. What is he like, that thing?”

 

“…Like the flash of red behind your eyes when you rub them too hard, and you’re not sure if you’ve rubbed your eyes right out of your body,” Hiyori whispers, his lower lip trembling. “It thinks it’s smart, but doesn’t know anything about our ways, it just tries to…force its way around with raw power. It’s a blunt instrument, all it knows how to do is kill and order.”

 

“Ahh. It’s a mean one, then, not an empty one. There’s a difference.”

 

Eichi keeps stroking Hiyori’s hair, slow and even, surprisingly careful. “Drude all start out like that—killing and ordering. That means it’s fairly young, if that’s all it does. No wonder it can’t even begin to mimic an archdemon, let alone something more human.”

 

“It hates drakes,” Hiyori says, taking in a slow, shuddering breath, grasping at that offered comfort, even if he knows it’s stupid, if he _knows_ it’s in the opposite of his best interests. “The Western gate made more sense for us to come through, but he wanted to start in the North.”

 

Eichi’s head tilts. “To eradicate them? Or just…to fuck with them?” he asks, unable to stifle a laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “What an idiot. He certainly picked a species that’s troublesome to hate.”

 

“I guess there’s some history there?” Hiyori shrugs. “I don’t know. But he’s horrible to my wizard, too. You know him, right?”

 

“Mm, I know him. Do you have him thralled?” Eichi mildly asks, twirling a strand of Hiyori’s hair about one finger. “Or does he just…follow you around like that?”

 

Hiyori hesitates, and a hint of color creeps into his cheeks. “I…had him thralled,” he admits, though that isn’t the part that’s a little embarrassing. “I took it off. And he just…stayed.”

 

“Awww. Like a little lost puppy. That’s cute. And very human of you, to keep pets.”

 

“Like you’re one to talk? You have nothing _but_ pets! What’s that pink thing supposed to be?”

 

“The cutest thing that was ever born, obviously. You’re misunderstanding me, though,” Eichi sighs, plucking at that same curl of Hiyori’s hair as he leans in. “I _like_ humans, or did you miss that part? When you act human, that’s better. That’s why drude are especially disgusting…they really can’t ever grasp the basics.”

 

“You kept one around for an awfully long time,” Hiyori says, butting his head into that touch. “I thought…Nagisa’s so strong, he’s got to have some way to control it. He’s so much more powerful than anyone I’ve ever met, except you…”

 

Eichi’s lip curls, though his touch remains gentle, fingers dragging slowly along Hiyori’s scalp. “Drude poison you,” he lowly, flatly says. “Forever. If you can’t find the sense to kill them, they’ll never leave. Someone else can’t kill them, _you_ have to kill them, or they’ll linger still. And even after they’re dead…they’ll still stick around, meddling with things. They’re like little flies, constantly buzzing about. Nagisa hasn’t realized it yet.”

 

“I’ll kill it, then.” Hiyori says the words slowly, but they ring of a pact when he speaks them. “And you’ll help me, won’t you?”

 

“…No. You have to convince _him_ to do it, Hiyori.” Eichi sighs, absently running a thumb down his cheek. “Now, if he asks for our help in doing that…I can be convinced.”

 

Hiyori takes in a deep breath, and slowly nods. “Do you want to do a dance about it? Or do you want to tell me what you want? I can play the game, if that feels better. I remember the old rules.”

 

“Mm, no, I can be blunt. But you have to listen, and understand this isn’t really negotiable.” Eichi leans back, watching him. “If we free Nagisa of that drude…then you two can stay here. Jun, too, if that’s what you want. But you’re under _my_ rules—I’ll be the ruler of the Academy again or so help me. Pass yourselves off as wizards and live here peacefully without enslaving humans left and right.”

 

Hiyori considers that for a moment, tapping his finger against his chin. “Mm, I think we can do better than that. I’m not really interested in being under your direct rule forever, and I know Nagisa won’t be. But I’d agree to live quietly if you give us our own place to be. The Sandlands, maybe. Or the Shadowlands, those upstarts could use some manners.”

 

Eichi’s face lights up. “You can absolutely have the Shadowlands,” he cheerfully agrees. “You don’t want the Sandlands, it’s too hot. But the Shadowlands—the _proper_ , pretty Shadowlands—you can have all of that. The caveat is that you leave the Demon King and his _collection_ to me.”

 

“You have to help us conquer it,” Hiyori warns. “You can’t just take our help and then assume we’ll do all the work. I want your wizards on the front lines. You can have the Demon King, but what do you mean by his collection?”

 

“That sounds like a holy mission. I’ll one-up you, and get the paladins to help you.” Eichi’s eyes lid. “By his ‘collection’, I mean his little brother, his thralls, his new child-apparent—that shitty _whore_ of a prophet that I want to grind my heel into. And most of all, his mate. I want to _eat him._ ”

 

“So…just to be clear,” Hiyori says slowly, “you don’t want my help with any of that. Or my mate’s help.”

 

“Oh, I suppose, you can help me grind them all to the dirt, but when it comes to actually disposing of them…no, they’re mine. And you don’t get to take bites, they’re my meal.”

 

“Then give me names, not nicknames, so it’s formal.”

 

“You want an actual pact with me?” Eichi’s lips twitch, amused. “Just a moment ago, you were talking about how much you hated me, and how I’m nothing like what the stories say.”

 

“You think you’re the only person allowed to have complicated opinions?” Hiyori asks, eyebrows raised. “I don’t want a pact with you. You’re too eager to make them. I just meant you should tell me the names so I don’t make a mistake and leave the wrong shitty whore alive.”

 

Eichi blinks, then bursts out laughing before he lurches forward, grabbing Hiyori around the neck and pinning him flat on his back. The grip is surprisingly careful for how firm it is, in spite of the long talons that ghost over his skin. “You’re much cuter when you use your brain,” he breathes, pale hair falling forward to frame both of their faces. “The Demon King. Ritsu, his little brother. Mao, his thralled pet. The child-thing he made with Kaoru, the paladin, who I also want to eat. Natsume, that whore prophet that won’t leave Wataru alone. And Shu, Rei’s mate, who I _will_ sink my teeth into, and my dick, too, if I have anything to say about it.”

 

Hiyori’s breath catches, and his eyes dilate, pupils pulsing dark before he looks away, calming his stupidly thudding heart. This is stupid, he’s always been stupid, his _heart_ has always been stupid, he’s carved it out before and frozen it solid, but that never helped. Not with this. “Understood,” he says, his voice somehow steady as he lays still, letting himself be pinned, not letting himself enjoy it. It’s one thing if Eichi’s feeding on him, and he’s expected to protest and squirm, another if it’s…this. “What about your mate?”

 

“If he behaves, then I’ll let him do as he likes,” Eichi says with a shrug of a shoulder, giving Hiyori’s throat another, almost gentle squeeze, obviously enjoying the way Hiyori stays pliant underneath that touch. “If he doesn’t behave, then I’ll control him through our bond. I like him, as much as one likes a mate they didn’t choose…but not enough to put up with him if he’s being a little shit.”

 

Hiyori lets his head tip back, just a little, not enough to signify total submission, but enough to play with Eichi’s instincts, and his own. “Are you planning on feeding on me tonight?” he asks quietly, finally daring to look up and meet Eichi’s eyes. “We’ll have to take care not to disrupt our host.”

 

Eichi’s mouth parts, his stare sharpening somewhat as he watches the bend of Hiyori’s neck, and can’t help but drag a sharp thumbnail along it. “Maybe I should feed in a way that doesn’t make you scream for once, then,” he murmurs, shifting carefully to slide a thigh between Hiyori’s legs. “The way your mate nibbles on you.”

 

Hiyori’s gasp is nothing like the squeaks and squeals he usually lets out when Eichi feeds on him, the manufactured sounds of false protest that he usually gives up as a token. It’s a heady, breathy thing, a deeper noise than he usually makes, and his thighs part, even as he looks away. “You’re not him,” he mumbles, but it doesn’t come out very strong. “You don’t…you couldn’t touch me like he does.”

 

“No?” Eichi’s breath washes hot over Hiyori’s throat before he bites, not to break skin, but merely to see what sort of reaction even just a nip garners this time. “Then I won’t touch you like he does,” he murmurs, both hands dragging down Hiyori’s waist, squeezing. “I’ll be better at it. You can even bite back, because I’m so generous.”

 

 _Why couldn’t you have touched me like this before?_ Hiyori nearly wails, when his body rouses eagerly, his arms coming up around Eichi’s neck, pulling him down without nails, without fangs, just with his hands and his hunger. _Before I had Him, and you had That, and neither of us ever touch each other gently? Why couldn’t you have looked at me before, when all I looked at was you?_

 

But looking wouldn’t have changed anything, not when bonds happen as they will, with no input and no question from their bonded. And now, as much as Hiyori wants to delight in being touched by this particular man at last, the entire time, something presses on the back of his mind, urging him to nausea, reminding him that _this is not your mate_. “Don’t make me talk,” he whispers, entirely aware that he’s giving too much away, closing his eyes and pulling Eichi close. “Just for a little while.”

 

 _You’ll do whatever I like_ is on the tip of Eichi’s tongue, but it’s unnecessary, he reminds himself, looking down at Hiyori. Sometimes, it’s nice to _not_ need to play that game.

 

And with Hiyori, it’s _very_ obvious…he doesn’t have to try.

 

“You don’t have to say a word,” Eichi murmurs, mouthing his way up Hiyori’s long neck, planting wet, sucking kisses before reaching the lobe of his ear that he bites down onto and tugs. His hands squeeze, fingers pressing into Hiyori’s back, easing him into arching against him as his thighs settle between Hiyori’s, spreading them wide. “I just want you to be good. Mmn…and I think you will be.” Eichi’s breath escapes a little faster, a little more eagerly, and his fingers scrape against Hiyori’s bare skin. “You don’t have to answer. I can _tell_ how much you want this.”

 

Hiyori hisses out a breath, and keeps his eyes closed tightly, letting Eichi’s voice wash over him. He’d asked him not to talk, but his body betrays him, clamoring for more every time Eichi opens his mouth, every time they touch and it feels as if Hiyori’s skin is going to tighten so much he finally bursts apart. Heat darts up and down his spine, pooling in his belly as he wraps a leg around Eichi’s waist, tugging him closer, back arching. This doesn’t feel like feeding. It feels like lovemaking.

 

It feels dangerous.

 

Eichi grabs at one of Hiyori’s hands, dragging it down between his legs, at the hard, hot bulge of his cock trapped just behind his breeches. “This is your fault,” he sighs, tilting his head to catch Hiyori’s mouth briefly, but no less insistently, his teeth dragging over that full lower lip. “You look so pretty when you bare your neck like a good boy.”

 

“I want to taste it.”

 

The words escape from Hiyori’s mouth, and he looks away even as he curls his hand, as if it wants to be around Eichi’s cock every second. He licks his lips, and shifts a little, body still in an absolute posture of submission. “But if you’d rather, anything is fine.”

 

“It’s big, you know.” The suggestion makes his cock throb against Hiyori’s hand, and Eichi’s hips cant forward, pressing against his palm. Eichi reaches up, thumb dragging over Hiyori’s lower lip, his stare intent, eager, _hungry_. “Are you sure it can fit in your cute little mouth? Ahh…though you must think it can, if you spoke up to ask for that…”

 

“You’ve been with humans too long,” Hiyori breathes, and he shifts down, tugging at Eichi’s trousers until they give way, his mouth falling open as he mouths hungrily over Eichi’s cock, his jaw sliding easily open in a way that a human’s couldn’t hope to, as he swallows Eichi down in a single, eager motion.

 

“Fuck,” Eichi mutters breathlessly, and immediately buries his hands into Hiyori’s hair, twisting and pulling and pushing his head down automatically. Having something so hot and slick around the entire length of his cock makes his mind short circuit for a moment, makes his power grabby and hungry, reaching out to bite and nip at Hiyori in a heated surge—

 

Eichi catches himself with a sharp inhale, his eyes fluttering shut as he sharply reins that burst of magic in. “Sorry,” he breathes, fingers digging into Hiyori’s hair. “You’re…mm. You’re good at this, I got distracted. I won’t be mean, keep going.”

 

Hiyori lets out a whimper, feeling suddenly small, overwhelmed. Eichi is careful with his power—not kind, not gentle, but _careful_ , rarely letting out more than he needs to at any given time, almost miserly in its application. For him to be so careless now means he must be truly beside himself, as eager as Hiyori is, as _hungry_ for this as Hiyori is, and the thought of that makes Hiyori’s pulse flutter.

 

 _It’s not the same,_ he wants to protest, and would have, if he weren’t swallowing around the thick, hot length of Eichi’s cock. _It’s different when you just…want me so badly you can’t control it._

 

Eichi’s fingers clench at the sound that Hiyori makes, and his hips rock forward, slowly letting his cock slide down Hiyori’s throat before rocking back again, taking his time to fuck his mouth. “When you make sounds like that,” he quietly murmurs, petting Hiyori’s hair as he moves, his cock throbbing, dripping over his tongue, “it makes me think you _want_ me to be mean. And here I was trying to be s~o gentle with you, after you complained about how I treated you before…”

 

His hand tightens as he pulls Hiyori’s mouth of his cock, tossing him flat back onto the bed again before crawling up after him and straddling his shoulders. “Open up, sweet,” Eichi purrs, fingers wrapped around the base of his cock as he guides it back to those soft lips. “If you want a taste, I’ll give you one.”

 

Hiyori isn’t sure what makes his body clench more, how much he wants Eichi, or how much he hates Eichi, all in that instant. Hunger and something else, something dark and small and sad and elated that he shudders to call _love_ but doesn’t know another word for, everything pulses in Hiyori as he swallows Eichi down, hungrily mouthing over the length of his cock, relaxing, eyes unfocusing, as Eichi fucks his throat. His hands come up, grabbing Eichi’s buttocks, urging him in, urging him _faster, harder,_ a small part of him wanting to show off, to boast, _I can take it, I can be perfect like your stupid human never can, I can swallow your seed and make of it something beautiful if I want._

 

A low, rumbling groan escapes Eichi’s throat as he fucks in, slow at first, taking his time to feel how Hiyori’s throat feels around his cock, the way his tongue laps at him even when it shouldn’t be able to, hot and slick and so, _so_ eager. He plants a hand to the headboard, bracing over Hiyori with a breathy exhale, his own mouth parted as his hips grind in, a hard shiver dragging down his spine when Hiyori grabs at him, urging him to do more. “Good boy,” he breathlessly grunts, thrusting in harder when he’s encouraged—not that it takes _much_ encouragement, when he naturally _wants_ to just fuck Hiyori stupid. “You really—ahh—are such a good hole, made for my dick, made for _this_ —“

 

This time, when his magic grabs, he doesn’t _quite_ stop it. It hooks into Hiyori like his talons would, rending searching, hungry little scratches, all the better to let Hiyori’s own strength to bleed and be lapped up. _You must want this, or you wouldn’t be acting so, so desperate for it._

 

Hiyori feels Eichi’s magic sucking at him…and _lets_ him.

 

He shouldn’t. He _shouldn’t_ , and if Nagisa finds out—

 

The thought of his mate makes his stomach curdle, but that somehow doesn’t take away from the raw need suffusing his body. There’s a reason he always puts up a fight when Eichi takes him, a reason that goes beyond the game they’re playing. Freely letting someone take his power, even someone he’s been given to on loan, is intrinsically intimate, gives part of _himself_ to flavor the power. It hurts him less, and gives him more control over Eichi, something most archdemons don’t, shouldn’t want.

 

But Eichi has always been different, too.

 

Hiyori lets the power go, and sucks hard, eyes watering as he groans, nails digging in to Eichi’s ass, pulling him down, as if he could swallow Eichi’s whole body that way, his whole soul.

 

Eichi stops being nice entirely.

 

It’s not like how he usually is ‘mean’ to Hiyori—that’s just biting him, holding him down, drinking what he wants from him and leaving him in a bloody, unconscious heap. It’s _consciously_ _rough_ instead, the fun sort, the kind where he likes grabbing something pretty by the hair and making them choke on his cock—because they begged for it.

 

And Hiyori, notably, is _pleading_ for it.

 

Eichi fucks his mouth with long, hard strokes, panting out each breath, his eyes lidded and dark as he bends forward over Hiyori’s face, gripping his hair with one hand, the headboard with the other. His cock drips and throbs, achingly hard between those pretty, swollen lips, and it’s without warning, barely a hitch in his breath that he comes, sighing out a sated noise as he spills in aching pulses down Hiyori’s throat. “That’s…a good boy,” he exhales. “Drink it up, don’t miss a drop.”

 

Hiyori swallows, watering eyes staring up at Eichi as he does, working his throat with long, eager gulps. He keeps Eichi in his mouth as long as he can, until he feels Eichi soften, then covers his cock with soft licks, cleaning up the last of the mess. “Thank you,” he mumbles, eyes flicking down, his cheeks flushed as the mess churns in his stomach.

 

Eichi leans back with a long, lingering shiver, and his power pulls on Hiyori’s as he moves, as if his fingers are curled up into it, and when he moves, it _has_ to move with him. “I should’ve done that awhile ago,” he softly says, and shifts back, grabbing Hiyori’s face in one hand as he bends down, kissing him deeply, sucking his own taste off that talented tongue.

 

Hiyori keens, wrapping his arms around Eichi’s neck, pulling him into the kiss, body moving sinuously against Eichi’s, hard and aching against him. He’s panting when he pulls away, lips swollen, gazing up at Eichi with a breathy, “Things would…have been different.”

 

Eichi’s fingers are slick when they reach down, unrepentant when a pair of them slide inside of Hiyori’s hole and press deep. A rumbling groan escapes Eichi’s throat at that tight squeeze, and he bites at Hiyori’s mouth again, panting open-mouthed between kisses. “They still can be,” he breathes, rubbing down against Hiyori, his own cock quickly filling once more. “I’m generous. I’ll give you what you want, whatever that is, if you’re good for me.”

 

Hiyori’s face twists, and he slams a hand into Eichi’s wrist, pain in his eyes. “No, they can’t,” he says, voice ragged, even as his body opens under Eichi. “Everything is different, it _can’t_ be what I wanted, it’s too late, don’t pretend you can offer that—“

 

Eichi’s other hand grabs for Hiyori’s throat again, holding him still. “If you start doubting me now, what good will that do?” he softly asks, gently squeezing, just to remind him not to struggle. “Bonds are malleable. I’ll show you how much.”

 

Hiyori stops breathing.

 

This is Eichi at his most dangerous, when Hiyori can’t tell if he’s brilliant or just clever, whether he knows everything and is choosing some things to ignore, or really isn’t omniscient. This is the Eichi that Hiyori knows could take over the continent if he wanted to, the Eichi that has struck fear into the hearts of demons and paladins and humans alike.

 

The Eichi he’d fallen in love with, thousands of years ago.

 

“Fuck me,” he says, and it sounds like a challenge, and is.

 

Eichi, for his part, just laughs.

 

He releases Hiyori’s neck, grabs at his hips, hoisting those long, lean legs up and around his waist as he guides his cock to his hole. “I want your claws in me while I’m making you _wish_ you could scream here,” he rumbles, and shoves in, mercilessly deep, a low, panting grunt escaping when he yanks on Hiyori’s hips to help his cock sink in as deep as it possibly _can_.

 

Eichi’s own nails bite into Hiyori’s sides as he bends forward, his hips slapping against Hiyori’s ass, fangs bared as he snaps at Hiyori’s bared throat. It’s _easy_ to forget about his own bond, a dull, aching thud in the back of his mind, annoyingly stretched thin in Leo’s absence, but so, _so_ conveniently forgotten when another, _powerful_ , nonhuman creature is in his grasp, warm and slick around his cock and just as soft as a human, but so much less _breakable._

 

It isn’t Hiyori’s nails that sink in, but his teeth, digging into Eichi’s shoulder to keep himself from screaming when Eichi slides in deep. They’ve been fucking for months, but that’s been different. That’s been feeding, when it was easy, so, so easy to turn off all of his emotions and squirm against Eichi, to forget his own feelings, all of their history. Like this, Eichi is fucking _him_ , not his power, and that makes Hiyori’s teeth sink in far enough to taste blood and drink it, his whole body going gleefully hard at the way Eichi takes him.

 

He pulls away, mouth bloody, eyes alight as he rakes his claws down Eichi’s back, feeling himself swell with purpose, with enjoyment. “Fuck me…like you should have claimed me on the mountaintop that day…”

 

Hiyori’s mouth, stained with blood, the sting of those teeth against his skin, is far more attractive than it has any right to be. _Or that’s just those pesky little instincts rearing their ugly heads._

 

Leo would look good like that. _Too bad he won’t, ever._

 

Eichi shudders, his own teeth sharp against Hiyori’s neck, clamping down to _hold_ him down when he fucks in, each thrust claiming, rough, his cock working its way inside even as Hiyori twists and squirms and bucks. “When you look like this,” he gasps, breaking away from Hiyori’s neck, blood dripping from his own fangs, “it makes me never— _ever_ want to give you back—“

 

 _Do you even remember that day?_ Hiyori can’t help but wonder, even as he bites his cries into Eichi’s flesh, writing the evidence of their coupling on his skin. _Do you remember what it was like, how we worked together, why I’ve chased anything that smelled like you until I started to want you dead?_

 

It doesn’t matter anyway. But maybe it makes Hiyori’s toes curl harder, makes his back arch higher, makes his blood sing with desire. Or maybe that’s just the huge cock rearranging his guts, making him pant and whine to get a breath when all the air has been forced from his lungs. “Give me what I want,” he groans, dragging a hand down his own face, smearing the blood with his fingertips. “Do it like you want to—“

 

_Do it like you want to._

 

That’s a sharp tug at his memories, back to when he didn’t have a mate, to when _Hiyori_ didn’t, either, when it was so incredibly easy to do whatever and whoever, and play with humans and make them _love him_. Now it take work, now this is all so damnably complicated, and with Hiyori underneath him like this, it’s so much easier to see who to blame.

 

Eichi growls, low and throaty, and he lunges, grabbing Hiyori’s wrists, pinning them down in a vice-tight grip as his fangs snap dangerously close to Hiyori’s face, a warning for him to lie back and _take it_. His pupils, slitted and reptilian, stand out all the same against the glowing blue of his eyes as he ruts in, fucking in hard, taking what he wants as much as taking out his frustration on what is _his_ —

 

_Not yours, Nagisa’s, only on loan._

 

Fuck that, Hiyori’s his and they _all_ know it.

 

“Say it.” Eichi’s voice is a hiss, broken up only when he snaps at Hiyori’s throat, sucking on the bruises already left behind. “Say you’re _mine_.”

 

Hiyori’s mouth opens, then snaps shut.

 

When their bond had snapped into being, it had been a quiet day. They’d been exhausted, hiding from anyone else clawing their way up from the Depths, tucked into a shelf of poisoned rock, their skin streaked with their own blood, mottled with those of the creatures they’d killed. It wasn’t a big crevasse, but it was enough for the two of them to wait, weaving their magic together to hide, tamping down all signs of themselves. The drude was waiting up above, Nagisa had promised, and his eyes were slate gray, full of weary purpose.

 

Then their hands had touched, like they had so many times.

 

Suddenly, the spoiled, flighty, talented son of the man he loved had been transformed. Nagisa was the same, but how Hiyori saw him, oh, that had changed. And Nagisa, as if his whole world hadn’t been set carefully upside down, had looked at him, eyebrows raised, and said, “Oh.”

 

Hiyori’s jaw locks, not in a stinking, freezing rock cave, but a soft inn mattress, not with the descendant, but with the progenitor, being held down not by the man he’s joined with, but by the man he’s loved, being ravished and ravaged and enjoying every second.

 

And his mouth won’t open.

 

Eichi pauses, only for a moment, only to sigh and bend and press a bloodied kiss to that clenched tight mouth. “It’s fine,” he simply says, sweat dripping from his forehead down onto Hiyori’s. “I get it.”

 

And because he takes no offense, Eichi settles for another bite to Hiyori’s neck—Nagisa can fume over that later, or maybe he won’t, who knows what that drude has done to him?—as he grinds in, thorough and deep, hoisting Hiyori’s hips higher with one hand to better the angle of his thrusts. “Doesn’t mean you can’t still come on my cock,” he murmurs, licking a stripe up Hiyori’s throat, tasting blood and sweat. “You still have to be good for me.”

 

Hiyori’s mouth finally falls open, tears springing to his tightly-clenched eyes, and his nails finally sink in deep, grabbing Eichi and _holding_ him there, leaving no doubt about how much he _wants_ , even as his mind, his body won’t let him take what he hungers for.

 

At least he can still have this.

 

Eichi hits him just right, and he bites clean through his own lip, trying as hard as he can not to scream, blood running down his chin as he collapses, shivering in utter pleasure, his own seed cooling on his belly. His tongue swipes over his lower lip, feeling the ragged edges, and his eyes are wide and dark as he looks up at Eichi, breath a tremulous thing. “Stay with me tonight,” he whispers stupidly, because it’s not like either of them have anywhere else to go.

 

Eichi merely offers up a breathy growl for a moment, grasping at Hiyori’s hips to hold him into place as he finishes taking what he wants from that trembling body, and comes after a particularly deep thrust takes his breath away. Each pulse of his cock makes him feel like he’s being drained dry, and he shudders hard, collapsing down, face burying his way into Hiyori’s thoroughly marked neck.

 

“Stupid,” he finally wheezes, slithering down further. His magic plucks at Hiyori, nibbling slowly, taking his time to chew and digest and _enjoy_ instead of desperately ripping chunks out like he normally would. “Mmn. Does it look like I’m going anywhere?”

 

Hiyori feels himself dissolve at the edges, and indulges Eichi in that, at least for now, letting his power breathe out, surrounding both of them. “Fix my lip,” he says, the words little more than a pout as he snuggles up close.

 

“Demanding little brat, aren’t you,” Eichi murmurs, though it’s with no irritation as he rolls sideways, dragging Hiyori with him, and then directly into a kiss. The contact alone swiftly undoes the damage, which he follows by sucking on Hiyori’s lower lip, the coppery tang of his own blood a distraction. “It’s interesting,” he finally, absently adds. “You’re so…affected, by your bond. But it’s not strong in the same ways I’ve seen ‘strong’ bonds be ‘strong.’”

 

“They’re all different,” Hiyori murmurs, grabbing the inn’s blanket and tugging it over both of them, unrepentantly using his magic to do so. “Mine is like…a leash. It doesn’t do anything at all…unless you start to stray. What’s yours like?”

 

“A fucking chain.” It comes out more annoyed than Eichi would like. Oh well. “Shiny and gold but still a chain. A heavy one, at that. You’d look cute in a collar.”

 

“Yeah, it’s because I’m cute,” Hiyori agrees. “Mm, of course yours is shiny and gold.”

 

“Well, I don’t know that it actually is. That’s just what a shitty prophet told Leo. Some Nightcloak he is, really,” Eichi sighs, languidly stroking a hand down Hiyori’s back. “He couldn’t even recognize me when I plopped on a half-assed illusion to snag a sip of his blood. I suppose half-assed for me is quite a _lot_ compared to most wizards, but hooonestly…”

 

“You know, I’ve been here for a while,” says Hiyori, with the air of someone who knows far less than he thinks, “but I really don’t get the whole Nightcloak business. Who made up those rankings, anyway? And who gets to decide who wears them?”

 

Eichi’s mouth purses. “Well, you can blame Davren the Shitty for coming up with the _idea_ of the names—but other than that, the system was solidified by yours truly.”

 

“What does it mean, though?” Hiyori presses, snuggling into Eichi’s chest. “Nightcloaks, that’s powerful, right? But how come the cloaks are black, not really dark purple or green?”

 

“Because here, the night looks black, not purple or green…though I suppose twilight looks purple enough,” Eichi muses, fingers dragging up to slowly toy with the ends of Hiyori’s hair. “The original scale was fairly simple, based on Davren’s conquests after he bloomed. He killed one berserker at Dawn, three at Noon, and then ten at Night, before all the other berserkers came for him and he killed them all by stealing the lifeforce of his son. The strength of the wizard and their classification is based on that, these days; how many berserkers could they have killed when they bloomed? Was it one, three, or thousands?”

 

Hiyori falls silent for a long moment, contemplating that, then nodding slowly. “Humans really remember back that far? They don’t live that long, though. How would they even know about him?”

 

“They don’t, unless they’re well-read.” Eichi shrugs a sweaty shoulder. “But even then, we keep that sort of knowledge a bit hidden, within the Academy. Wizards that have recently bloomed don’t take kindly to knowing the damage they’ve caused, usually.”

 

Hiyori trails a fingertip down Eichi’s shoulder, leaving a fine line of red that vanishes in his wake, soothing all of his hurts away, at least all of the physical ones that he can reach with a touch. “Reading doesn’t seem all that great. Why not just remember things? Humans are weak, if they can’t even face the damage they do by being alive.”

 

“Humans die fast, comparatively…and they’re stupider, lest you forget. They remember better if they write it down.” Eichi’s expression is vaguely amused. “Maybe you should try that sometime. Ah, but anyway, they really are dumb. Watching them flounder about and ponder over _me_ is proof of that alone. Anyone with human blood is an idiot, at the end of the day.”

 

Hiyori nearly says something, then thinks better of it, and nestles into his blankets instead. “You and my lord will straighten them out. It won’t take long, once both of you are working together.”

 

Eichi calmly reaches down and pinches Hiyori’s ass. “Biting your tongue around me only irritates me. I’d rather you run your mouth and frustrate me that way than swallow back the nonsense you have in mind. Don’t forget that for the future.”

 

“Yeep!” Hiyori rubs the area Eichi had pinched, glaring up at him. “When I don’t talk, you pinch me. When I do talk, you grab me by the throat and hurt me. I’d rather get pinched. It wasn’t anything important.”

 

“I thought we had a moment and were past you thinking I’d be so mean to you now,” Eichi complains, propping his chin into his hand with a pout. “Wasn’t I good to you? In exactly the way you liked?”

 

Hiyori sucks in a shuddering breath, and nods, shrinking down a little more. “I just…don’t think you’re thinking right, about the humans. Or you’re hiding your real intentions. Because you can’t think that way about them and want to live among them your whole life.”

 

Eichi’s fingers drum slowly against his cheek as he considers, watching Hiyori through his lashes. “I _do_ think humans are idiots,” he finally says. “But you’re not wrong. I like them. They’re…hmm. I’m not sure you’d understand.”

 

“I like one human,” Hiyori says, licking his lips. “And I guess…I’ve liked a few more. I just like one of them an awful lot extra.”

 

“Do you like him because he’s tasty?” Eichi mildly asks. “Or do you just like certain parts about him? There’s a difference.”

 

Hiyori flushes pink. “I mean…I’ve invested a lot of power in him. I keep doing it. Even if…it doesn’t make sense. Doesn’t that mean I like him because he’s him?”

 

He flops down on his back, staring at the ceiling. “None of it is like how they taught me when I was young.”

 

“Humans, even half-humans, always start as an investment,” Eichi says sympathetically, with only a trace of annoyance far from directed at Hiyori. No, that’s directed as his past…conquests. Ugh. “Investments, and training, and _teaching_ them—and then they betray you. Or they don’t, the good ones, that is. That’s why I like Tori. The pink thing,” he offers up, in case Hiyori has forgotten his name. “He’s never bent a knee to Rei, which I find delightful, even though he doesn’t know I’m alive now.”

 

“He’ll be excited, then, right?” Hiyori asks softly. “I hope Jun is excited to see me. I miss him. Not like I miss my lord, but…in a different way.”

 

“Do you love him?” Eichi asks abruptly, glancing over to catch Hiyori’s gaze. “It’s fine if you don’t. I’ve been asked that about my mate, and I find the question…troublesome.”

 

“Do I love Nagisa?” Hiyori asks, and frowns. Then, carefully, he switches to the demon tongue, where every word is power. “Sahashleth? Or…Sesviath?” Sahashleth: _Fond, doting, “your presence makes me smile.”_ Sesviath: _pining, longing, “your absence makes me despair.”_ The humans use them interchangeably, but the demons know the difference.

 

“…You tell me,” Eichi softly says, reaching over to pull gently on a tendril of Hiyori’s hair. “But there’s such a difference, isn’t there. For me…with Leo—sahashleth.” His fingers curl, then drop back down to the bed. “For the one I can’t seem to have—sesviath.”

 

“For Nagisa…” The real answer is _both_ , but that’s embarrassing, so Hiyori just turns over. “What matters is how he feels about me, isn’t it?”

 

Eichi shrugs a shoulder, even though Hiyori can’t see it. He can feel the sentiment, surely. “I don’t care about that part as much. I just want what I want. I suppose that’s the problem, heh.”

 

“But I should be like that. I am, part of me. But I’m not a half-anything, so what makes me…so different?”

 

“You spent too much time with me,” Eichi cheerfully says. “And I’m not quite right.”

 

“It’s your fault for sure. You keep feeding on me, what am I supposed to do?”

 

“Exactly this. You’re tasty, I can’t help myself.” Eichi’s eyebrows raise. “And you like it, besides. Mm, you’re the wrong person to ask about love advice, perhaps, but—do you think if I kill that prophet, Wataru will understand?”

 

“Totally,” Hiyori assures him. “He’d understand that you did it because you want him. It’s pretty obvious, right? I mean, I understand that, and you say I’m dumb.”

 

“But he _likes_ that whore,” Eichi complains, his pout increasing by the moment. “That’s what makes it hard. Wataru’s got a spell all wrapped around him, too, for safety—it ticks me off whenever I see it. I mean, I can bite through it and kill the bitch all the same, but it’s _there_ , and it means he _cares_.”

 

“I said he’d understand it,” Hiyori points out. “Not that he’d like it. Or forgive you. Clouds hold a grudge a long time.”

 

“But I want him to _like it_ ,” Eichi whines. “I want him again, not some…some flimsy _human_. Humans are fun to play with, but I don’t want the responsibility of him! If he didn’t like that stupid prophet, _surely_ he’d see the gesture for what it is—an offering of my affection. You’d get it, wouldn’t you?”

 

“Then why bother killing the prophet?” Hiyori asks, practically. “Just hold him prisoner, and let Wataru see him every time he’s good. Or wait until he dies. Or make an accident that kills him. See, you always take the most obvious path, that’s your mistake.”

 

“I suppose I _did_ want to keep him in a cage for his prophecies…but I hate him, you see,” Eichi grouses. “That’s why I want to kill him. And maybe rape him. See, this is why I keep you around, you can’t just say these things to humans or half-breeds, they get so uppity.”

 

“You’re so impatient, though.” Hiyori rolls over onto his stomach, stretching out lazily. “He won’t live that long. Wataru will live as long as we will, as long as you don’t break him.”

 

“But it’s more satisfying if he’s dead _now!_ Of course I’m impatient, I’m powerful and want things,” Eichi growls, crawling closer and nuzzling up into Hiyori’s hair, mouthing at the back of his neck. “When you spend this much time around humans,” he murmurs, “you start to be impatient just like them. The prophet’s still a Nightcloak, and from the Isles. He’ll live for too long for my liking.”

 

“An accident, then,” Hiyori says with a shrug. “Or convince Wataru to leave him. I bet my lord could make a nice accident for him, if you’re prepared to give something.”

 

“…what if I just give him the prophet himself?” Eichi absently proposes, running a finger down Hiyori’s back. “He’s useful. I just hate him, and that Wataru likes him.”

 

“You’d have to ask him. I can’t make pacts on his behalf.” Hiyori contemplates, his eyes starting to droop. “But he likes prophets. He might be…amenable.”

 

“Then I’ll ask him.” Eichi bends his head, pressing a kiss to Hiyori’s shoulder, soothing away the bites he had left there as he murmurs, “Learn to be a bit pushier with him in the future, Your Royal Highness. No one wants a passive queen.”

 

The old nickname makes Hiyori’s breath quicken. _Sesviath, indeed,_ he thinks, gazing up at Eichi. “It’s complicated, in our world. You know that.”

 

“So learn the nuance.” Eichi smiles, sprawling out next to him. “You’re smart when you want to be. I’m sure you’d be impressive, if you wanted to be.”

 

 _That’s where you’re so stupid,_ Hiyori thinks, and snuggles into Eichi’s side, letting his tired eyes finally slide shut. _Being impressive is how you get all of the really powerful creatures to decide you’d be better off dead. Being impressive is how you got killed._ “For him,” he says softly instead, “I actually want to try.”

 


	33. Chapter 33

 

_“I’m going to ask you to do one thing, kitten—stay. put.”_

 

That seems highly illogical to someone like Natsume, considering how many tasks he could potentially accomplish while three other Nightcloaks are heading North.

 

Natsume begins, logically, by cornering Hokuto, who suspiciously seems to be preparing to leave himself. “Where is it?” he demands, so close to Hokuto’s face that he can feel the weird half-blood’s cold, cold breath. “The big paladin place?”

 

It doesn’t take _much_ convincing to get the answers out of Hokuto—questionably, because he has his own agenda, but Natsume has made something of a career out of making Airbred do what he wants. That information in tow, he sets himself to the task of _finding_ the Conclave from Hokuto’s still vague instructions.

 

About half-way up a mountain, wrapped up in a fur cloak underneath the warmth of his Nightcloak as well, Natsume squints against the swirling snow to try and regain his bearings. He fumbles with the irritatingly useless map Hokuto had drawn for him in charcoal, which seems to blur together with every single blink of his eyes.

 

Ah. Shit, is that what being snowblind is?

 

A startling, strange hiss makes him whip around, in spite of not being able to properly _see_ , and the odd _smell_ that accompanies it makes his hackles raise. There’s a crunch that accompanies it—footsteps? maybe?—but it’s hard to tell when the trees around him groan and muffle all the sounds.

 

“…Nakkun? That you?” 

 

Natsume blinks a few more times, and reaches out magically instead, in spite of all the risks. What his magic touches burns him, makes him rip away the little tendril post-haste, because that familiar, but not-quite-right dark mass of power belongs to one person, and one person only.

 

“Mi…ka?”

 

“I _knew it_ ,” Mika cheerfully declares, never mind that his teeth are chattering the whole while, the stub of a curly black ponytail whipping behind him. “I knew it was you. C’mon, get on Cupcake, he’ll take us up th’ mountain real fast!”

 

Natsume doesn’t ask questions. Not yet, not this time, not when even his Sight couldn’t see _this_ coming.

 

It turns out snogs are enormous when fed properly, probably the size of a decent pony that smells like death—so says Natsume’s vision as it properly returns to him when out of the snow and within a proper shelter of trees. He shivers, brushing snow from his fur cloak, and finds himself tempted to yank down the coil of braids his hair is up into, as if to add another, third layer for warmth. “If you’re looking for Arashi,” Natsume finally says when it looks like Mika’s teeth have stopped chattering enough for him to focus, “he’s in the Shadowlands. Safe.”

 

Mika looks up, one bright blue eye gleaming, the other still hidden behind a carefully constructed patch. “So somethin’ _did_ happen. Master told me I was bein’ ridiculous.”

 

“Far from it,” Natsume exhales, staring up through the treeline and at the long, curving path beyond it. “But he’s safe now, and there’s so much else that needs to be taken care of that _isn’t_ safe right now…”

 

“Tell me about it,” Mika interrupts, hauling himself back aboard Cupcake, legs swinging. “While we go wherever you’re goin’.”

 

It’s enough time to explain, and enough time to hatch a plan with someone _about_ as stir-crazy about being left behind as he is.

 

Mika is actually a much better actor than he is, and the paladins at the Conclave are…eager for something to do, to say the least.

 

“I’m Natsume of the Isles, a Nightcloak of the Academy, and this is my captive, an aberrant half-Ingling that has been terrorizing the Sandlands!”

 

Mika’s hissing and snarling (plus the snog that tries to kill a few people before running off into the woods with his charge) stirs up enough paladin attention that they send what _looks_ to be a small army after them both. Natsume wavers for a moment, worried that Mika might actually get caught and _murdered_ —Shu would never forgive him for this—but it’s done now, and so he ducks past the unmanned gates, finally within the Conclave’s tall stone walls.

 

Now, where would they put a paladin that’s misbehaved?

 

A paladin’s paradise isn’t exactly the place to try this, and he’s certainly already damaging his name with the entire paladin race, but to hell with it. A deep breath, a drop of his own blood splattering over the cold stone floor, stained with slush and mud at the entranceway, and dozens—hundreds of lines of power spread out before his vision, some glowing far more brightly than others.

 

_Kaoru?_

 

Even if he’s weak, surely he’ll answer. Otherwise, Natsume will spend his time plucking at every cord until he finds a call back, no matter how suicidal that may be.

 

After eleven unsuccessful tries, a weak voice finally responds, _Rei? I told you to stay away, you ass._

 

_Not Rei. Natsume._

 

Even that response is enough. Natsume’s eyes glitter gold as he grabs onto that wavering string, clicking his way down the hall as quietly as possible. How much magic can he get away with in here, actually? A little bit of natural casting is one thing, but silencing spells, stealth spells, that will all add up, and even if his magic is so intensely human in nature, the chance, still—

 

_How guarded are you?_

 

The sound of footsteps makes Natsume dart down a corridor, flattening himself against the stone wall and holding his breath as they pass. Something tells him daggers are _probably_ not good enough when facing paladins, and magic crimes would be inevitable.

 

 _No, no, this is perfect,_ Kaoru’s voice comes now, eager for all its weakness. His mental voice is colored with images, a leftover product of his conversations this way with Rei. Telepathy doesn’t come naturally to him, and pictures color his words, unbidden. _Take a message to Rei. They’re…not letting me have my rights. Someone is leaning on them, someone big, probably the head of the chief clan. I’ve sent for my family, and they should be here in time, but…I won’t be out of here in time to help him. Or our son._

 

_Rei is heading North. Your son is heading South. I’m here for you, and I’m all you’ve got for the moment, so steer me correctly to where you are or you’re done for._

 

Natsume slowly pokes his head back out, plucks up that string-to-Kaoru again, and tugs this time.

 

_If you can feel that, it’s me. How much magic can I use here before I get stabbed?_

 

 _How did you even get in here?_ Kaoru asks, mystified. _Never mind, time for that later. It’s not a question of how much magic you use, just what kind. Keep your intentions pure according to paladin standards, and you shouldn’t have an issue. We work with lots of wizards, unofficially._

 

The line between them firms slightly, as if Kaoru is tugging back on it. _Three floors below the ground. There’s a hall of cells. I’m in the last one on the left. But you don’t need to come down here, I told you, my family is coming._

 

_You don’t know that for sure, do you._

 

Is it pure to rescue a questionable paladin? Well, he just wants to rescue _someone_ and keep them from harm, and for a reason that has to do with saving the realm—so, that’s probably fine, especially if it isn’t a dark art that keeps his own magic tamped down and his own presence hidden. A quick test of that happens sooner than Natsume bets on when another _horde_ of paladins comes rushing down the halls, shouting things about _aberrant magic_ and _necromancer!_

 

Maybe their game had been a little too well-played, oops. Well, it’s Mika. He’s probably fine.

 

The spell Natsume casts over himself is a hurried concealment, leaving him to freeze and blend in with the wall itself. None of them notice, none of them bat an eye, and he relaxes slowly, only moving once the last has run past, armor clanging, before he dives down the stairwell he finally reaches at the end of the main hall.

 

_One, I need access to the library here. I know only paladins can go into it._

 

_Two, Lord Rei would cry if I didn’t rescue you._

 

If there’s a telepathic version of a fond, exasperated sigh, Kaoru gives it. _He would, the crybaby. Fine. My family’s not…altogether fond of me. There’s a chance they won’t come. And yes, I can get you into the library. Let me know when you’re at the entrance to the cells, there’s a puzzle lock to get in. I saw them put it together, they weren’t worried about me knowing how to get in, just out._

 

_Paladins are kind of one-track minded, aren’t they?_

 

The stairwell is empty, and Natsume breathes a sigh of relief at that as he darts down, taking the stairs two at a time. _Out of curiosity, how quickly can a large group of paladins subdue a necromancer?_

 

 _…..What did you do?_ Kaoru asks wearily. _Please don’t tell me it’s something I’m going to have to undo, I’m not up to much._

 

_Oh, you don’t need to do anything, on my head be it. Just, you know. We figured it might be easier for me to get in if we had a distraction._

 

One floor down. The second is decidedly empty, and Natsume races to the next stairwell, gathering up that Kaoru-string as he strides forward. _Mika’s helping._

 

 _He had better not die,_ comes Kaoru’s worried tone, laced with images of connections, Mika’s death angering Shu, devastating Rei. _It depends on how sure they are that he’s their enemy, and how many of them mustered out against him._

 

_It’s Mika. It’s fine._

 

Maybe if _he_ wills it hard enough, the future will accommodate him. Natsume hoists up the muddy, snow-soaked ends of his skirts for the final stairwell, coming to a stop in front of the enormous wooden door that blocks his path. _Paladin magic is weird._

 

_Can you let me see through your eyes? Not sure if that’s a Nightcloak thing or just a Rei thing, but…hold on, let me try something._

 

Kaoru arranges himself on the floor properly, slipping into a meditative trance, and closes his eyes. Then, he sends a memory of watching the puzzle, hopefully all in order as he remembers it. Telepathy is _not_ his best skill. _Did that make sense?_

 

_Better than you probably think it did._

 

Now isn’t the time to be pedantic, and explain to Kaoru that more or less _any_ telepathy would be amplified or easier with him, or around him. The second nature of it to him, as a Nightcloak but even more so, as a seer, is seldom understood by even the other Nightcloaks. Natsume’s fingers reach to follow the pattern Kaoru’s memory had guided him through, and with a quiet clink, the last block within the door’s chamber clicks into place, and with it, the lock opens with a _click_.

 

Natsume waits, breath held, to have half a dozen paladins breathing down _his_ neck.

 

There are none, and he quickly yanks the door open, heaving out a breath with the effort before he squeezes through the tiny opening he managed. Rows of empty cells are more surprising than the occasional one with an unmoving form, either curled into the corner or onto a flat, stone ‘bed’, and Natsume reaches the end, looking wildly about to make _sure_ there aren’t any other magical artifacts that could possibly trigger upon opening Kaoru’s door. “So I have some theories,” he says matter-of-factly, stretching up onto tiptoe to try and reach the keys, dangling just out of his reach on the opposite wall. “Which is why I need your library. Paladins know things and never tell the people who matter. Lord Rei got that from you.”

 

Kaoru rouses himself from his trance, blinking slowly. His eyes have adjusted by now, at least, and they slowly fall on Natsume. “Shit, I can’t believe any of that worked,” he mutters, then stretches out his legs, wiggling his toes. His face is mottled with purple, hair mussed and stuck to a few bloody patches, one eye swollen almost shut, and his arms and legs don’t move with his usual easy grace. “Yeah, I’m the first one to agree. Paladins never tell people anything. And I’m going to give you an answer you don’t like, too. We always have our reasons.”

 

 

Natsume hops a few more times, huffs in frustration, and then gives up, resorting to magic to counteract his short stature with a quick loop of it around the key to simply levitate it down to him. “Well, I don’t like that,” he simply says, spinning the key around a finger and looking Kaoru up and down. “Especially when I’m put in the _must be protected, not used_  category that you both like to sort people into.” He unlocks the door, heaving it open after throwing his full weight behind it. “Mmnn, I’m not a very good healer, but I know a few spells that can take the pain away, if you want.” 

 

 

Kaoru waves a hand at that, getting slowly to his feet. “It’s fine, nothing’s stopping me from doing what I need to do. They couldn’t take the chance that my family would actually show up and make an issue of it, heh.”

 

 

“…You must be pretty important, if that’s the case,” Natsume idly says, looking him over once more before reaching up and gingerly resting his fingers against the worst bruising on Kaoru’s face. Feeling the pain that radiates from it makes him flinch, but the careful, measured flow of magic doesn’t falter as it flows through Kaoru, unable to heal much of anything, but certainly absorbing most of the pain to leave it as an afterthought, if nothing else. “Lord Rei would be upset if I didn’t,” he quietly says. “Not that he knows I’m here, but…still.” 

 

 

Kaoru exhales through his nose, nodding in gratitude. “More important than I knew yesterday,” he says softly, and there’s a darkness in his eyes when he says it. “There are things I can’t talk about here—there are things wrong here, Rei needs to know about them. Things with the paladins are…going to change, and he doesn’t know, fuck. What are you trying to raid our library for? We should get out and get Mika out now, while we still can.”

 

 

“Anything about…really, really old archdemons.” Natsume drops his hand, hesitating. “Lord Rei headed North with Lord Kanata and Wataru. I definitely want to catch up with them. Lord Rei…he’s done with this. He sent the king away. I think he wants the previous Emperor dead, once and for all.” 

 

 

“Who doesn’t?” Kaoru asks, amused. “Right now, at least. But you told me I shouldn’t go North as a paladin, that I’d only be in the way.”

 

 

“…So don’t go as a paladin,” Natsume softly says, his eyes flicking to Kaoru’s hip, then back up to his face. “They already took away your sword, didn’t they?” 

 

 

“I can get it back.” Kaoru grimaces. “If I’m found innocent. But I know the name of the bastard who took it, so that’s something.”

 

 

“We’ll figure that out later.” Natsume grabs at his sleeve, tugging. “Take me to the library. If you’re touching me, I can conceal us both magically. Mika hasn’t given the signal that he’s in trouble yet, so we have time.” 

 

 

Kaoru hesitates. “Maybe we should just grab a sword for me and go,” he suggests. “Mika’s proud he might not ask for help before it’s too late.”

 

 

“Doubt it. He doesn’t want Cupcake to get hurt.” Natsume glowers up at him. “ _Take me_ , or I’m going to go exploring and find it myself.” 

 

 

“Ah-ah, that might not conceal you,” Kaoru points out. “That’s not very pure of you.”

 

 

“I—ugh! I hate paladins!” Just shy of stamping his foot, Natsume looks away, visibly fretting as he worries at his lower lip. “It’s _important._  I know you don’t know anything about really old archdemons, either, or you would’ve said something by now. Surely there has to be _some_  literature written about them, kept out of reach…you said the paladins have worked with Eichi for a long time, so they must’ve written about him. If I can find something, _anything_ …” 

 

 

“You think there’s a magic scroll that’ll tell you how to kill the most powerful being ever to walk our lands?” Kaoru asks, skeptical. “If there is…” He trails off, thinking. “It wouldn’t be here. But I know where it would be. Let’s get out of here, I don’t want to say anything aloud within these walls.”

 

 

“Not a magic scroll on how to kill him, just…more knowledge about what he _is_. You and Lord Rei have both said it, and so did Madara, that he’s not…right. He’s not like an archdemon should be. He can do things they can’t.” Natsume fidgets, then finally, reluctantly nods. “So long as you aren’t just trying to make me leave.” 

 

 

Kaoru grabs Natsume’s arm, and closes his eyes, trying to make his thoughts clear. _This is the stronghold of the clan most loyal to him. But there are others that used to resist him, that he hasn’t managed to purge yet. One of them has a fortress not far from here. You know it’s impossible to lie mind-to-mind._

 

 

Something about that particular information makes Natsume’s blood run cold, the shiver that runs down his spine making him more restless than he’s ever felt in his entire life. “L…let’s go,” he mutters, twisting free of Kaoru’s grip just to grab his hand instead, the ripple of magic that flutters over them quickly concealing them to the untrained, non-wizard eye. _How friendly are they with you?_

 

 

_These days?_ Kaoru gives him a lopsided shrug of a smile. _Depends who’s living there._ An image of a young lady, laughing and then moaning, her mouth sweet as summer berries with honey, leaps between their minds before Kaoru can stifle it.

 

 

Natsume bolts as if he’s been struck by lightening, releasing Kaoru’s hand in an instant. “D-don’t do that!” he hisses between his teeth, his face dark pink. “I can _See_  everything, you ass. Even if you _think_  you’ve held it back, you haven’t, that’s how it is.”

 

 

Kaoru scowls. “Then don’t try to talk to me mind-to-mind!” he hisses back, just as quietly. “I told you I’m not very good at it.”

 

 

“But it’s safer like that, if people are trying to overhear us!” Natsume snarls, grabbing Kaoru’s hand up again in irritation. _It’s not my fault when you spill like that!_ Everyone _is good at telepathy around me, that’s how it works! You should have practiced more with Lord Rei if you weren’t good at it!_

 

And damn his own flustered, stressed mind when that _previous image_  lingers there, even _mentioning_  Rei is too much—it’s a flash, nothing more, but the vivid, intense memory of Rei’s mouth on his neck, long-fingered hands on his hips, his—

 

Natsume grits his teeth hard, staring staunchly forward even as his face flames and he drags Kaoru along, trying not to stomp up the stairs and give away their cover.

 

 

Kaoru follows, snickering.

 

“He’s even that good a lay after you’ve been in bed with Wataru for years, huh?” he can’t help but tease, flipping Natsume’s skirt a little bit as he follows him up the staircase. 

 

 

Natsume whips around, quick as a cat, and slaps him across the face. “You gross old pervert, die,” he hisses out, only to freeze, grab Kaoru’s arm again, and drag him flat against the wall, concealment spell flaring over them tenfold as a pair of men stalk past, snow-covered and frustrated. 

 

“Fucking necromancers. What the fuck was he riding?” 

 

“Some summon from the Shadowlands, no doubt. Fast little shit, can’t believe Albion couldn’t catch him.” 

 

They turn down the corridor, their chattering continuing, and Natsume drags Kaoru a step forward, then another, before resuming his hurried pace. _Sounds like Mika is still on the loose. Sorry about your face, but you deserved it._

 

 

Kaoru smirks a little, because he can’t help himself. _I’ve had worse, from people less pretty. I’ll live. Let’s go._ Even that is accompanied by a nervous flutter of images, of the snow, of his son, of Rei bleeding to death somewhere in his vivid imagination.

 

 

Natsume clamps down on his desire to reassure Kaoru, in spite of his embarrassment. First things first, out, out, out, out of this place that apparently, is a hellhole brewing in support of Eichi, of all terrible things. 

 

Up the stairwells and to the front gates, Natsume hesitates, only a moment longer, before daring to pull Kaoru along with him towards the now once-again armed entryway. There’s not much to be done about footprints at this point, unfortunately, so… _Lord Rei is terrible at teleporting other people with him. I’m not. That being said, you still need to trust me and be fast, because they’re going to see us, for at least a breath._

 

 

_No!_

 

Kaoru yanks Natsume back, a hairsbreadth before he can touch the gates. _Those aren’t just metal. They’re spelled, the same way as our beads. When you came through them, you had an escort, right? I need to find my sword._

 

 

Natsume looks back at him in frustration. _This is why paladins are still magic, in spite of what you say._ The statement is tinged with grumpiness. _With your sword, are you the escort? Does it have to be yours, or will a stolen one do the trick?_

 

 

_With my sword, I’m the escort, but…_ Frustration tinges his thoughts, and the next ones are confused. _It…sort of has to be mine. There’s nothing special about mine but the way I feel about it._

 

 

_Got it._ Natsume distractedly squeezes Kaoru’s hand as he thinks, worrying at his lower lip. _If you don’t know what they’ve done with it…I can try playing the good wizard act again and figure it out that way._

 

 

_They’ll be on edge._ Kaoru’s gaze is distracted as he looks around the compound, lacing his fingers with Natsume’s. _Let me think, let me think…my thoughts are so damn scrambled, sorry. Where would they…not the armory_ , he suddenly decides, his eyes lighting on a small locked door. _There. On the terrace. It’s Valaran’s private room, that’s the bastard that took it off me. He wouldn’t let it go, he hates my grandfather._

 

 

_Ah. So…then getting to it…_  Natsume hedges, glancing to the door, then back up to Kaoru’s face. _Can I teleport within the actual structure of this place without detection? Can I pry the door off the hinges with magic? Or pick the lock if it isn’t magicked, I’m good at that._

 

 

_None of it’s magicked,_ Kaoru thinks tiredly. _That’s not how we do things. But…never mind, this is Clanhall we’re talking about. They might have taken Eichi’s advice and bought spells for their locks. Be careful._

 

_I can check before I poke at it._

 

Natsume lifts his other hand, fingers tracing out the perfectly straight lines of a pentagram that neatly collides with the door in question, glowing dimly green. There’s no backlash, but the door _does_ open, almost immediately, and out steps a tall, older man, pin-straight brown hair tied at the back of his neck, sword strapped to his hip. “Come out, come out, wherever you are—I know I’m not mistaken, that was a wizard’s touch.”

 

Natsume’s mouth purses, and his eyes flick back up to Kaoru. _I know what Lord Rei would tell me to do here, but that’s the kind of thing I’m bad at._

 

Kaoru licks his lips, then melts back into the shadows. _I know him. I’ll try to help you. Can you do it? Or should we run?_

 

Natsume nearly makes a strangled noise out loud, but it reverberates telepathically all the more. _I’ll…try._

 

 _“Just try flirting with them, that always works!”_ Rei has cheerfully attempted to encourage in the past. Izumi, Arashi, even _Mika_ have offered up similar suggestions to dealing with every day problems, with every suggestion coming up as a resounding failure—except with Wataru, who seems to accept that being climbed upon and chewed on is an advance. But if he considers that now, they’re stuck, and…at least he has a pretty face. Right? _Right._

 

Natsume swallows, steels himself, and slinks back a few steps, as if to look like he’s coming around the corner instead of simply magically appearing in the middle of the hall from a very obvious concealment spell. “Sorry about that—I think I got turned around.” Trying to be formal is too weird. At least he stands out as an Islander no matter _what_ he does.

 

Valaran pauses, and openly looks Natsume up and down, as if startled at what sort of ‘wizard’ actually appears. In fact, he still doesn’t seem to believe it, judging by the skeptical, _typical_ : “ _You’re_ the Nightcloak?”

 

_I’m going to kill him._

 

 _Be coy,_ Kaoru pleads, fingers white-knuckled as he clenches his fists from the shadows, trying to think invisible thoughts. _Flatter him, he thinks he’s very important. Make him work for information about you._

 

_But I’m the interesting one here! I don’t care about him! Uuuuugggghhhhh._

 

“Mm, more or less. Wizards don’t usually travel here, do they?” For not the first time, Natsume is reminded that men like it when whoever is flirting with them acts like an idiot. Or at least, acts like they’re clueless—Subaru always liked that about that little…ugh, never mind. “They’re missing out.” A measured step forward follows, and Natsume laces his hands behind his back. “You’re…Valaran, right? I’ve heard so much about you.”

 

It’s the right thing to say, thank goodness, though it makes Natsume want to hiss when Valaran’s gaze sharpens for an entirely different reason as it looks him over. “Have you? Good for you, being well-read even in the Isles. Though I didn’t think they had wizards out there so much, just seers.”

 

The casual insult isn’t anything new, but it _does_ make Natsume’s plastered on smile twitch. “I’ve been on the mainland for…some time now. But being _this_ far North—that’s a first. When I found that half-Ingling thing, though, I knew you all could do somethi—“

 

His words abruptly are cut off by his own voice breaking on a squeak (it resembles a sharp ‘yieeep!’, how horrifying) when he’s abruptly snatched forward by the ties of his Nightcloak, and it takes a great deal of restraint to not let it blister and burn Valaran’s hands instinctively. When he leans in, it’s far easier to tell that his breath smells strongly of wine, and Natsume swallows hard, struggling not to react.“You’re trying so very hard to be cute, and yet it doesn’t suit you,” he breathes. “Every high-ranking wizard I’ve ever met was a bitch. Give it a try, I’ll like that more.”

 

_You told me to be coy! THIS IS NOT A GOOD RESULT._

 

 

_You’re wrong! This is a good result!_ Damn, why do some men find flirting so hard? Kaoru is pretty sure that by Natsume’s age, he was able to talk the pants off any man or woman, but that’s not important right now. _Slap his hand and tell him to show you to his room already. Then hit him over the head with something heavy and get my sword._

 

 

_THE FACT THAT MEN SEE THIS AS A GOOD RESULT IS A PROBLEM._ Natsume tries not to let his nerves get the better of him and ultimately punch the guy in the face, or something equally…uncute? Who knows, he shoves Wataru around all the time and that only seems to have _good_  results. He slaps at Valaran’s hand and scowls up at him, which is something he doesn’t have to try and summon. “If you want a ‘real conversation’, let’s at least do it in your room,” he complains, and tries not to gag over the stink of alcohol.

 

Valaran snorts, seems to _like it_ —gross, gross, gross, men are gross, except every Nightcloak, the only exceptions—and steps back, partially releasing him to give Natsume a little shove into his quarters. “That’s more like it. Can’t believe they’re letting wizards look like you these days. The little shits were always a touch too manly for my taste, and _far_  too old—“ 

 

A chair does the trick. Adrenaline at least makes up for his lack of physical strength, first to knock Valaran down, then to drop the thing on his head when he tries to get up. Chest heaving, Natsume hesitates a moment, long enough to make sure the drunk, gross _thing_  is unconscious before a quick glance about lets him find that familiar string of Kaoru again—leading straight to a sword leaning amongst a pair of others. 

 

He snatches it up, hissing at the weight as he drags it out of the room. _I’m telling Lord Rei that every paladin is a pervert, you’re not that special!_

 

 

Kaoru stifles a laugh, then darts over, grabbing the hilt of the sword with a sigh of relief. _I’m the least discriminating, is the only thing. Hurry, it’ll let us pass now, before someone finds him._

 

He grabs Natsume’s hand, and squeezes it once, briefly. _You did good. I’ll tell Rei. I was really impressed._

 

 

Natsume’s response is the mental equivalent of a huff, even as he clings to Kaoru’s hand, not entirely able to hide how shaken he is physically, even with half a dozen incriminating mental walls. _Let’s just go. As soon as we’re out of here, I can get Mika to meet us._

 

 

Kaoru takes a deep breath before touching the gate, as if he isn’t quite certain whether he’ll be struck down, then grasps it. Nothing happens. He breathes out, and pulls Natsume along with him, quickly into the trees before he finally lets himself make a sound. “Ah. That’s very stressful. Thank you, you really saved my hide. _And_ , now I have cause to bring suit against them, which is going to mean they probably won’t come after me. They broke our laws, so even if I did, too, my family won’t be in trouble for sheltering me.”

 

 

“That’s something, at least,” Natsume faintly says, suddenly finding himself trying to shake off the odd _aura_  that place now that he’s out of it, and dropping every single concealment he’d wrapped around them both. He sways, but catches himself before he can fall against Kaoru, too proud to be _that_  pathetic. 

 

_Mika._   _Turn back already._

 

Telepathy is _definitely_  not Mika’s strong suit, but that’s fine. Anyone can hear him, which is the important part. Natsume shivers in a way that has nothing to do with the cold, shaking himself off—or trying to, when his vision attempts to muddle. “There’s definitely something about that place. It’s…obscured, but it keeps trying to creep in.” 

 

 

“Damn, that’s what I was afraid of,” Kaoru says with a sigh. “I was feeling it, too. And Valaran is just stupid enough to get in bed with something that would destroy his whole way of life, just to make sure his enemies go down. And that’s his political enemies, not his sworn ones.”

 

 

“Men are all gross,” Natsume mutters. “Please tell me the other castle isn’t full of men like…that.” 

 

“Nakkun!” 

 

Mika’s voice sounds out over the slithering, crackling steps of his snog-apparent. The thing’s long, forked tongue stretches out easily a foot in front of it as it tastes—smells? who knows—the air ahead of its rider, and Mika pauses within the treeline, squinting his one eye to better see who is with Natsume. “Oh, _good_. Y’got him. Hi, Kaoru.”

 

“Look at that thing,” Natsume exhales, shaking his head as he strides towards him. “Have you ever seen a snog this big, Kaoru?”

 

 

Kaoru’s fingers twitch, as if desperate to wrap around the beads he isn’t wearing, his shoulders square to keep himself from running away. “I, um, not…one that I parted with on good terms,” he says, trying to keep his voice light. “Hi, Mika. Cupcake has really grown, huh?”

 

 

“Yep!” Mika beams, leaning forward over the creature’s spikily-scaled neck to pet it. The spikes disappear at his touch, folding down as Mika’s hand touches it. “He’s real cute, ain’t he? C’mon, we can all fit.”

 

“We have another paladin castle to go to, apparently, because what I needed isn’t here.” Natsume strides up to the snog as if this is entirely normal now. “Come on, Kaoru.”

 

Cupcake looks Kaoru up and down, hisses lowly, and extends its already long tongue much _further_ , all in order to lick straight up his face.

 

 

“Oh, yeah, that’s corrosive, all right,” Kaoru says, his smile not slipping as he wipes off the stinging saliva on his sleeve, then climbs gingerly up behind Mika. “Natsume, I thought you were making a portal. It’s about six days’ ride from here, on horses.”

 

 

“I would, if I didn’t have this thing to ride,” Natsume gleefully says, scrambling aboard without any concern. 

 

“Cupcake’s _real_  fast,” Mika brightly says, glancing back to Kaoru, his single, sightless eye peering up at him. “How do you think I avoided all those paladins?” 

 

“Told you he’d be fine,” Natsume hums, lacing his arms around Kaoru from behind. “Have you ridden a demon horse before? It’s like that.”

 

 

“Even on a fast horse,” Kaoru argues, “even if he’s ready for snow, are you sure that’s fast enough? We’re talking about the lives of people we love, here.”

 

 

“You’ve never ridden a demon horse,” is the conclusion both Mika and Natsume come to in haunting unison. 

 

“Show me the place again,” Natsume says to Kaoru without missing a beat. “Then I can show Cupcake, and we’re going. Just, hmm, hold on? Nice and tight. He doesn’t move like a horse. More like a weird dragon.” 

 

“Snogs don’t like teleportin’, anyway,” Mika sagely says.

 

 

“I’ve never ridden a demon horse _or_ a dragon,” Kaoru confirms, wrapping his arms tightly around Mika’s waist. “Neither of them like me. How’s he supposed to know how to get there from just a picture of the place? Do you need to know the whole way there?”

 

 

“Nope. He’ll know.” 

 

“Snogs are, apparently, very adept at navigation,” Natsume says with a shrug, burrowing himself against Kaoru’s back for warmth. “Do you always question things this much? Surely not, if you work with Lord Rei so much.”

 

“Yeeeeahhh…Master does the same thing, but Rei’s got a way about him,” Mika says with a dismissive shrug, shifting to make himself more comfortable. “It’ll be fine, Kaoru. Cupcake’s good.”

 

Kaoru nearly protests again, then sighs. “How do I tell the snog where to go? Also, whose idea was it to put the blind man as pilot? I thought prophets were supposed to be the blind ones, it goes so well with your whole…aesthetic.”

 

“I can see, kinda,” Mika says with a shrug. “By magic. Feelin’ around, that kinda thing. And Cupcake’s got diggers, he helps.”

 

“I wish I was blind sometimes,” Natsume mutters, and sighs, reaching around Kaoru to fumble for his hand. “Just show me again. I can direct the snog.”

 

“Hold me properly if we’re going to get acquainted,” Kaoru teases, and draws Natsume’s arms around his waist snugly, laying his hands over Natsume’s. “But there’s a lot I need to tell you on the way. This isn’t going to be super bouncy, is it? I need to be able to talk.”

 

“Um—“ Natsume’s face flushes, his tongue tripping over words for what feels like eternity. “I-it’s like flying,” he finally blurts out. “It’s not bouncy, you can talk.”

 

Mika’s eye rolls as he gives Cupcake a pat on the shoulder, nudging him around back through the snow. “Y’can bounce on him later, y’know. Show Cupcake where to go.”

 

Kaoru laughs, then tightens his hands before Natsume can pull them away. “That mean spell isn’t on you anymore, is it?” he muses, then concentrates, sending one of the very vague images he has of the Elderwild Fortress to Natsume.

 

Frantically fastening onto that thought instead of the _other one_ Kaoru planted in his mind, Natsume hurriedly lets that image flow through him and into Cupcake, whose head perks up, flicking side to side before he inhales a weird, hissing breath, and _takes off_.

 

His multiple legs—there are several more than _usual_ , that’s always a bit troubling—flutter through the snow such that the entire forest is a blur around them, and the only real casualty is the occasional, caustic saliva that flops backward. Mika seems unconcerned by this, and one of the snog’s spikes pops up on its neck—just one—as an easily grasped handle.

 

“…I _think_ it might be faster than a demon horse, but I’m not sure,” Natsume mutters, mostly to himself, huddled up against Kaoru’s back. It’s not like he can do anything _but_ cling to him.

 

“It’s a pretty smooth ride, yeah?” Mika cheerfully tosses back. “Cupcake’s so good!”

 

“…Right, he certainly is. Anyway, Kaoru, you needed to talk?”

 

“Cupcake is fantastic,” Kaoru says with absolute admiration, patting some of the scaly (beady? leathery?) hide. “Fast _and_ smooth, you’re right.”

 

He settles in properly, his arm around Mika relaxing, keeping his hand tight on Natsume’s out of spite and amusement. “Okay. The first thing you need to know is…actually, the first thing _I_ need to know is, how much do you know about the paladins?”

 

Natsume feels like he _should_ inform Kaoru that they don’t _need_ to keep holding hands now, but he huffs instead, because then it’s making an issue of it and Kaoru will just tease him more. “Just what you’ve told me, and the off-handed things Lord Rei says,” he stiffly offers. “Not much, I suppose. That’s why I wanted to sink my teeth into that library.”

 

“But are you familiar with the clans?” Kaoru asks. Then he frowns. “By the way, if we’re captured on our way, I didn’t tell you anything about any of this, they’d absolutely kill you guys in a second for knowing what I’m about to tell you.”

 

“I ain’t know nothin’,” Mika offers, stifling a yawn.

 

“We won’t be captured,” Natsume sniffs. “They can’t catch us, and if they tried, I’m not afraid of killing them. I know nothing about clans; I didn’t even know there were clans.”

 

“…This goes for the future, too.” Kaoru turns to look at Natsume. “Seriously. If you’re _ever_ taken for questioning by the paladins, you don’t know any of this. So. There are four clans. The one we just escaped, that’s Hilbrandt. They’re extreme traditionalists. They’re tasked with preserving our history, but everyone knows that if they don’t like a fact, they’ll erase it in favor of lies. So they do have a library, sure, but everything in there has to be sanctioned. And there are…rumors, about some of them.”

 

“…and the previous Emperor likes them, so you mentioned,” Natsume says, shaking off a shiver that seems to follow instinctively with those words. Later, when they’re _somewhere_ safe, if that exists, he needs to meditate and let that vision come through properly, if it’s going to. “What kind of rumors? Or are those not important to the current issues?”

 

“…” Kaoru looks around, as if they’re going to be overheard even here. “I’m sure they’re important to the current situation,” he says quietly. “But what’s important is, I’ve heard there’s a sect inside the Hilbrandt clan that worships a different kind of god. A vicious one, with hidden rituals. I don’t know how true it is, though. But knowing them…”

 

Natsume slowly chews on his lower lip as he thinks that over, and the odd, troubling thought that it makes sense, almost. “This is why I need access to actual paladin materials. There’s…a lot going on, that points to that kind of thing, but I don’t want to talk about it and be wrong.”

 

“Second,” Kaoru says, nodding in acknowledgement, “in terms of outright power, is my clan, Hakaze. We’re the public face of the paladins. Hilbrandt handles internal affairs—they police the police, so to speak. Hakaze deals with the heads of state, negotiations, treaties, stuff like that. With me so far?”

 

“Mmhm. So you’re the fancy paladins that everyone hears about.”

 

“Yes. And thank you, for acknowledging how fancy I am.”

 

“You look fancy.”

 

“You do,” Mika says over his shoulder. “Rei talks about it. So does Master; they both like it.”

 

Kaoru preens a little. “Well. Good. So, that’s why Hilbrandt is secretive and aggressive, and that’s why Hakaze is stuffy and pompous. The third clan, I don’t talk to them too much, but I like and respect them. That’s Hidaka. They’re border patrol, basically. They spend most of their time by the sea.”

 

“Those are the ones that were eaten up by the Wavebred, then?” Natsume deduces. “I knew that happened, I just didn’t know it was a particular clan.”

 

“The clan is smaller now,” Kaoru snaps, before he can stop himself. Then he takes a deep breath, and visibly calms himself. “Don’t…bring up the Wavebred around other paladins. Just a note.”

 

“…The Wavebred are pretty friendly nowadays,” Natsume points out, undeterred by Kaoru’s outburst. “And…well, you and Lord Kanata…”

 

“Paladins have long lives, and longer memories,” Kaoru says softly. “Anyone who fought in the war…you can’t understand, you’ve never been in war.”

 

“I’ve been in a war,” Natsume immediately retorts, scowling over Kaoru’s shoulder. “Isn’t _this_ a war, first of all? I’ve also been in the West, killing all the gross things that crawl out and want to kill us all.”

 

Mika makes a vague, disgruntled sound, but says absolutely nothing.

 

“This is not a war. A war…this is a whole different level.” Kaoru’s eyes unfocus, looking at something very far away. “You would know. And fighting the Inglings, one little influx channel, with loads of reinforcements at a bottleneck, is _not_ the same as the killing fields. Give me your hand, if you want to know the difference, but I think Rei would kill me for sharing what it was like with you.” He’s holding Natsume’s hand, but that’s not important. Consent for something like this is utterly imperative.

 

Natsume’s mouth opens, then snaps shut again, biting back what is undoubtedly the kind of comment others perceive as ‘condescending’ or ‘rude.’ Honestly, he’s _trying_ to learn the difference with people he _likes_ , at least. “I don’t want to see it,” he mutters crossly, glancing out over the blurring wilderness and snow. “But the insinuation I haven’t seen anything at all is annoying.”

 

“Not that you haven’t seen anything at all.” Kaoru’s breathing slows, as he realizes far too late that it’s sped up, heart thundering as if he’s going to be back there again, as if they’re going to be closing in on him, as if he’ll have to watch the die again. “Just…less of hate. So you can’t understand why that kind of thing would stick with our people, even if the ones we fought have started being more…friendly.”

 

“Nnh.” Natsume purses his lips, and when he can’t think of anything to say, lets his head thunk down against Kaoru’s shoulder. “Sorry,” is his eventual, quiet mutter.

 

“So how ‘bout how Wavebreds have got like, huge dicks,” Mika abruptly interrupts, too itchy from the tension to stand it any longer. “At least Kanata does, what the hell.”

 

Kaoru snorts out a laugh, and the tension evaporates as he relaxes. “Plenty big, yeah. Not that I care that much about that kind of thing. Right, right, we got off track, I was telling you about the clans, sorry.” An image flickers from his mind, a holdover of telepathy and the cobwebs of war that won’t clear from his eyes, an image of his own shaking fingers picking up bone after bone, far too small to be from adults, all with razor-sharp teeth marks in them.

 

“How can y’say y’don’t care about that kinda thing?” Mika exasperatedly says, sparing a glance over his shoulder as a the mockery of someone who actually _can_ see. “You’ve got Rei and Kanata keepin’ y’company—“

 

“Right, back to the clans,” Natsume briskly interrupts. “The fourth one, what’s the fourth one?”

 

“Svalde,” Kaoru says quietly, as if he’ll be overheard even here. “The Clan of the Svalde. The secret-keepers, the loremasters. When a new demon shows up and starts wreaking havoc, and no one knows how to kill it, they go to the Svalde. They’ve been hunted by every demon, power-hungry beast, and half-trained megalomaniac in the world, and always manage to hide. If anyone knows what you’re looking for…it’s them.”

 

“…Are they going to be…fine, with us just showing up like this?” Natsume warily asks. “Are you friends with them? I…well.” His face turns pink, and he sits back. “I suppose you are. But you know what I mean, beyond that.”

 

Kaoru snorts. “Paladin youths run wild, my friend. But we also die young. If Gretha is still alive, she might be happy to see me, or she might have changed into the kind of weird old person that the rest of the Svalde do. We’ll just have to see who’s there. I knew one girl of their clan, eighty years ago. I’m hardly good friends with all of them.”

 

“You remembered it well enough to Show it to me! What else am I supposed to think?”

 

“One day, he’ll get less sensitive t’this kinda thing,” Mika wearily, albeit affectionately says. “Maybe.”

 

“I’m not sensitive!”

 

“You are, a lot.”

 

“Well—well, whatever!” Natsume huffs. “So that’s where we’re going, to the Svalde. How do they feel about wizards? Or does it even matter?”

 

“No idea.” Kaoru shrugs apologetically. “I know that Gretha loved strong wine and salted potatoes, and hated her parents but loved dancing. It was a different time, this was just after the second War of the Depths.”

 

“Then I’ll try to be as polite as possible, because I _want_ to do my research there.”

 

“You ain’t got anything to worry about,” Mika bluntly says to Natsume. “It’s me that’s gonna stay back. Wizard or not, paladins don’t care much for my kinda magic.”

 

“I can’t imagine that having a necromancer and a…you’re calling Cupcake a snog, right? A necromancer and a snog, would raise our chances much,” Kaoru admits. “And please, don’t pull the trick you did back at Hilbrandt, Clan Svalde is smarter than that, and warier. From what Gretha told me, if they knew there was a necromancer loose in the forest, they’d just burn it down.”

 

Mika wiggles cold, painted fingers, unconcerned. “I’m dropping y’all off, so it’s not a problem,” he bluntly admits. “I’ve got places to go. We’re so close to the Shadowlands out here—I gotta see Arashi, an’ make _sure_ he’s been taken care of. I can circle back if you need me to, so long as ’s not a five minute visit kinda thing.”

 

“I’d be a lot more worried,” Kaoru says, gripping Mika’s shoulder with a gentle squeeze, “but I’m pretty sure you have a better handle on most of this than either of us do. You’re so calm, what’s your secret?”

 

“You try dyin’ once already and see how much things make y’worry less.”

 

Natsume pauses awkwardly, a response to that on the tip of his tongue before he pauses, and grips Kaoru’s hand more tightly. “We’re being followed.”

 

Mika’s head pops up. “…More like flanked, I think,” he murmurs. “Not human.”

 

Cupcake hisses, slowing a step, then another, and Mika sits back, urging him to a complete stop as the pathway through the snowy woods in front of them becomes almost entirely obscured by a shadowy, teaming mass. It doesn’t seem to have arms, legs, a face, or anything resembling a shape other than simply darkness, and it starts to spread out, creating a wall in front of them.

 

 _“Paaaladiiinn,”_ the mass hisses lowly, the sound of its voice making snow shake from the tree branches. _“You dare step foot upon our King’s lands?”_

 

“Somehow, I don’t think ’s talkin’ ‘bout Leo,” Mika mutters, and Cupcake takes a wary step back, long tail swishing through the snow.

 

“That’s a memory I wouldn’t have minded forgetting,” Kaoru mutters, flashing suddenly back to almost two centures earlier, before the treaty, before he had known Rei’s name. Something similar had happened then, and his blade had flashed, certain and strong in the darkness, and driven the creatures back.

 

Now, though, he simply holds up his hands, utterly confident as he has to be, around demons, facing demons. “Peace, treaty-mate. I have no quarrel with your King. These lands are still held by the Hilbrandt, though I am not of their number. Your king is known to me, and I to him.”

 

The teaming, demon-apparent mass merely laughs, the sound a rasping sound that makes Mika grit his teeth, hands going to his ears, and Natsume visibly wince. _“There is no more treaty, fool. Only one paladin’s name can pass beyond, and the one you’ve spoken is not it.”_

 

Kaoru’s face clears. “If there’s only one, then it’s me,” he says, absolutely certain he’s right. “I am Kaoru, of the Hakaze clan. Husband to Lady Reina, father to…well, that’s a long list, and not important right now. You will let me pass.”

 

The demon wavers, almost seeming annoyed for a moment before sulkily starting to disperse. _“Carry on, then,”_ it grouses, as much as a demonic cloud can.

 

“…Huh,” Mika remarks, lowering his hands as the demon mass slowly flutters off. “Demons are easy.”

 

“If it was bound by one named under a pact, of course it’s easy,” Natsume says, though he can’t stop himself from exhaling a sigh of relief all the same. “Did it say there’s no longer a treaty?”

 

“Rei’s moved things forward,” Kaoru says shortly, unable to stop himself from trying to urge Cupcake forward, though that does him little good. “He’s not holding back this time, he’s going right for…well, the less we speak aloud, the better. Mika, how do you kick this gorgeous creature into his or her fastest gear?”

 

“Uhhh…I mean. Cupcake’s kinda scary when he’s _real_ fast…” Mika pauses, then adds, as if trying to make sure Cupcake can’t hear him, “And I ain’t got th’ _slightest_ clue if Cupcake’s a girl or a boy.”

 

“Life is better with a little mystery on that front,” Kaoru assures him. “Like with the two of you.”

 

“Aww, thanks.”

 

“With—wait. What?”

 

“You gotta do somethin’ about that,” Mika absently says, because Kaoru will get what he’s referring to even if Natsume’s not following anything even remotely related to adult moods, as he promptly nudges Cupcake forward, straight to the blistering pace that Kaoru had requested.

 

“Yeah, I’m working on it,” Kaoru says, the words turning into a grunt as Cupcake leaps wildly ahead, holding a madcap rhythm. Kaoru hangs on well enough, though conversation is suddenly much more difficult. “Or I—will, as soon as…we get somewhere…not like this…”

 

Cupcake is fast. _Very_ fast, so fast that stopping is actually fairly difficult, and he almost overshoots their destination entirely.

 

 _How_ Mika manages to wrangle the weird creature to a stop is beyond Natsume, but it’s certainly with a lot of skinning into the snow, and nothing _close_ to a graceful cessation of movement. Natsume nearly topples off, and only manages to stay aboard by clinging to Kaoru, though Mika looks perfectly at home with this manner of movement. “Here we are, I guess,” Mika lightly says, tugging his cloak about his shoulders to readjust it with a shiver. “If y’all need me, I’m sure Nakkun can get in touch with me, one way or another.”

 

“That does seem to be one of his talents,” Kaoru agrees cheerfully, and hops off the snog, offering his hand up to Natsume to help him down as he would a lady. “Be safe, Mika. Please. I know you’re very scary when you want to be, so don’t be afraid to scare the shit out of those demons that would bother you.”

 

Mika snorts, entirely unconcerned. “I’m part of Rei’s set,” he says with a shrug, as if that explains everything. “No one’s gonna bother me. _Y’all_ are the ones that need t’be careful.”

 

Natsume takes Kaoru’s hand and gingerly slithers off of the snog, sinking into the snow with a hiss of displeasure at the sudden rush of cold. “We’ll…we’ll be fine,” he manages through gritted teeth, shivering hard. “We’re more likely to die by cold at this rate, I think…”

 

Kaoru waves Mika off, and slides an arm around Natsume’s waist, cloak and all. “Stay close to me. I’ll keep you warm, sweetheart.” He pauses, then admits, “We’re definitely at risk of dying before we find them, though. They’re notoriously closed-off and secretive. For all I know, they could have moved the whole damn base.”

 

“Any magic I use to keep us warm is like a beacon out here for sure,” Natsume laments, unable to even protest Kaoru touching him when he _is_ somewhat of a furnace. The sounds of Mika’s snog slithering away into the wilderness makes it all the more apparent that they’re delightfully screwed if something _does_ happen—how…wonderful. “Or maybe we do need a beacon…it’s not like I’m some dark creature using magic that they’d want to kill.”

 

“I’ll keep you warm while we’re walking,” Kaoru promises, bracing his cloak and hood against the wind, setting off for what feels vaguely like the right way. “You might be right about the beacon thing, though. I could…probably make myself known. Maybe. But your magic would, for sure.”

 

Giving up on keeping his already muddy, wet skirts out of the snow, Natsume yanks his hood up over his face, tying it in place with trembling fingers. “Glowing green fire usually does,” he manages, and not bothering to wait any longer—too cold, this is _too cold—_ the glowing green fire in question briskly engulfs them both as if they had walked through it and _actually_ caught fire. The snow around them swiftly melts, turning to puddles down to the dead grass underneath, and finally Natsume starts to stop shivering within the warmth of that halo. “T-that’s much better. Ah, teeth won’t stop c-chattering, damn it.”

 

Kaoru stares as if transfixed. “You know,” he says quietly, “apart from Rei, and aside from the wars…I’ve never spent too much time with wizards. This is absolutely gorgeous.”

 

Natsume flushes at the compliment, pleased. “To be fair,” he says, lifting his chin a little, “most wizards can’t do things like this. Most wizards have one skill they’re very good at, and that’s fine, good for them. Others…well, there are actually a lot of wizards like Mika that no one talks about—not necromancers, specifically, but wizards that can’t ever really grasp their magic properly and are basically just bombs waiting to explode. Most wizards can’t grasp the classical arts, and it’s not that they _don’t_ want to use magic frequently for basic things, it’s that they can’t. Lord Shu, he’s extremely talented in the same way—and Ritsu, actually, he’s very skilled.” 

 

“I’ve heard talk of wizards all my life, but none of them ever sounded like the ones I’ve met,” Kaoru agrees, his own shivering coming to a final stop as he relaxes. “Well, all I can say is, I’m glad. The ones they talk about…I’d never want to meet those ones. But you, Mika, Shu, Rei…I guess I could get to like magic in specific, not that my family would be any too pleased with that.”

 

Natsume hesitates, eyes Kaoru, and then says, very carefully, almost solemnly, “Please don’t tell Lord Rei I ever said this, but…he’s very, _very_ bad at being a wizard.”

 

“I—I’m sorry, he’s _what_?”

 

“He’s a really, really bad wizard. He’s extremely good at _magic,_ but that’s not the same thing. The kind of magic he’s good at isn’t…wizard’s magic. Lord Shu agrees with me.”

 

Kaoru considers that for a moment, mulling it over in his mind. “Huh. So…like the way what I do isn’t wizard’s magic?”

 

“Exactly. He’s just not…human enough.” Natsume grimaces. “But even _I_ know that would hurt his feelings if we said it. Lord Kanata’s the same way. Different species have different innate skills, and that’s just how their magic is going to tend to be. Wataru’s a mimic, of course, so he fakes the real, wizarding way of doing magic fairly well, but it’s all Airbred nonsense underneath and not the real thing.”

 

“Makes sense.” Kaoru looks around, willing the Svalde to find them, hoping all of this hasn’t just been an elaborate way for them to freeze to death. “Where does your wizard magic come from, then? I only know Rei’s explanations, and he’s, um, bad at them.”

 

“He…knows so much that it’s hard for him to teach it,” Natsume settles upon diplomatically. “And he doesn’t have the patience for reading now that he’s old. The long and short answer, though, is that it’s our souls. Our magic is a little piece of us—every time we use it, it’s a piece of our soul out there in the world. That’s why it hurts if our shields are broken, or if our curses are turned back. Parts of us are being ripped away. Some of us just…have more resilient souls than others. That’s why demons want to eat humans,” Natsume blithely says, glancing up at Kaoru. “You know that part. The soul is magic, and very delicious to a demon. Other demons don’t have them, so feeding on each other isn’t an option for very long.”

 

“But wizards live a long time,” Kaoru points out. “And from what I’ve heard, most of them work a lot of spells. Does it grow back? Or are there other power sources that they can use? How come some have more power than others? Doesn’t everyone have the same amount of soul?”

 

“Wow, Lord Rei really tells you _nothing_.”

 

“Wizards understand things differently from paladins,” Kaoru says with a shrug. “It’s not that he doesn’t talk to me, it’s that he doesn’t explain things in a way I can understand them, and I’m not usually interested enough to ask questions when I’m not going to understand the answers.”

 

“He’s…questionably bad at it,” Natsume agrees with a little shrug, finally warm enough to lower his hood and take in a deep breath that isn’t just cold air. “So…to start. A human’s soul regenerates and returns to the owner so long as it isn’t destroyed. Examples—if I make a protective barrier, and it’s broken, it’s not _destroyed_. The spell is, but that just means the magic goes back to me. _Destroyed_ is when…when a creature takes a bite out of you. A real bite, out of your soul itself, and eats it. Then it can’t grow back, it’s just gone.” His eyes flick up, glittering half-green from the glow of his own magic. “That’s why Izumi’s strange, because he can fix things like that.”

 

“He fixed me,” Kaoru says softly. “When Eichi took a bite.” He shivers, knowing now what he does about Eichi’s real nature, or at least what he thinks he knows. “I don’t get that, either. So, how come some creatures that do magic bloom, and others don’t?”

 

“Nnnn…that one’s…weird,” Natsume admits, scowling a little. “The thought process is that those creatures must have had human blood _somewhere_ down the line. Lord Rei, of course, had a half-human parent—so did Lord Kanata. Wataru…he claims to be pureblooded, yet he bloomed. Or did he? Or is it another process entirely? I’ve seen a lot of wizards bloom now, so I know what it looks like, and I’d be able to tell for sure if I had seen it, but…I didn’t, so I don’t know if he’s lying or not.” He huffs. “I know, that’s not a helpful answer. I don’t like not knowing the real facts of it, either.”

 

Kaoru feels his interest starting to drift, and he crouches down in the snowless patch, rubbing his hands together to get the feeling back into them. “Uh huh. So, that line of questioning all came from my original question, which is, how long can you keep that green fire going?”

 

“As long as I’m alive.” The fire expands a bit more, lapping over Kaoru’s hands, harmlessly warm. “And to answer your _previous_ -previous question, yes, there are other power sources. Lots of them, though the most common one you know is human body parts.”

 

“…Oh. Yuck. This is why I hate the Sandlands.”

 

“Mmmm. I suppose. That’s an conversation of ethics and consent, though, and not magic.” Natsume shivers, stuffing his hands directly into the fire when a wind whips by harder than before. “There’s also certain stones, cards, herbs…everything you’ve probably heard of, in classical wizardry. The old cauldron-stirring wizards of the past did what they did without the establishment of the Academy to teach them, and they did just fine. Sure, they lopped off a few of their own hands and fingers to amplify proper summonings before the Sandlands were really a thing, but…”

 

“But summonings are bad, right?” Kaoru asks, trying to keep all of this straight in a mind that has always had a particular propensity for things that he can feel, bite, and punch. “I’ve never heard of anyone summoning something nice.”

 

“Before wizards figured out teleporting, they summoned each other. You can also summon dragons. The human assumption that ‘summoning’ means demons is a relatively new concept.”

 

“You’re part dragon, right?” Kaoru asks, head cocked. “I remember hearing stuff about that, last time I was in the Isles. They had carvings of them everywhere, and big festivals and stuff.”

 

“I’m… _enough_ dragon, I suppose,” Natsume allows, his expression wry. “I wouldn’t call it ‘part.’ When you say someone’s ‘part’ creature, I think of them being at least one-fourth. I feel like if I was that much, I’d have scales or something. But everyone on the Isles has dragon’s blood in them. My mother was a high priestess, and I don’t know who my father is, but between the two of them, it’s something.”

 

“Heh. How old are you? I hope it wasn’t me.”

 

“Um. It wasn’t you.”

 

“I’m just saying, I’ve definitely, ah…known some girls in the Isles. Including a few very fancy priestesses.”

 

Natsume snorts. “You didn’t know my mother. She wouldn’t have done that with a Mainlander.”

 

Kaoru grins, teasing as he pokes at Natsume’s ankle under his skirt. “Maybe that’s why she never told you who he was.”

 

Natsume’s face flushes, and he slaps Kaoru away before folding his arms up in a huff. “That’s _not_ the case,” he stiffly says. “If she had done that, she would’ve lost her powers as a High Priestess, first of all. Second of all, Mommy— _my mother_ wouldn’t let some scruffy traveler lay their hands on her.”

 

“You’re assuming I looked like this when I went there.” Yes, talking about this, flirting and teasing, is far better than focusing on what they’re about to do. “I was quite the picture, you know. A dashing foreign emissary, in my full regalia. Not the scruffy traveler you seem to think is kind of cute anyway.”

 

“I don’t think that’s cute at all! You’re not cute at all!” Natsume huffs louder, slouching down into his cloak with a scowl. “My mother _wouldn’t._ She has better taste than that, I know her. And besides, it would’ve been during a festival, which _you_ wouldn’t’ve been invited to. Mainlanders never are unless they’re going to be eaten.”

 

“Oh, yeah?”

 

Kaoru grabs a stick, and starts sketching in the newly-uncovered dirt. “The main procession goes through the two great cliffs, here. They’re named after the wings of a really ancient dragon, but I forget which one. At the end is an altar, here, and for all that you guys like to talk about human sacrifice, it’s usually a human who pretends to do it, then at the last minute they switch them with a goat or a cow or something. The dancers, those were incredible, even if most Islander women have small tits, it’s still nice to see them decorated like that. And the high priestess over the ceremony, she had copper curls to the small of her back, all set in with gold, like the paint on her face. The food was incredible, do they always have the sticky buns with the seeds on the outsides?”

 

Natsume stares at him, somewhat slackjawed, and abruptly withdraws the green flames from keeping Kaoru warm. “You can die out here.”

 

Kaoru laughs, though it’s cut off at the end by a sudden gasp of cold, and he draws his knees up to his chest. “Okay, what’s the plan? Trying to convince me we should huddle together for warmth? Let me under your skirts, then.”

 

“…Never mind, you can have the fire back if you shut up,” Natsume mutters, flaring it back up and over Kaoru. That at least should hide how hot his own face feels all of a sudden. “Pervert. I _know_ you and my mother never did anything, don’t even joke about it.”

 

Kaoru holds up his hands in acquiescence. “I never touched your mother,” he admits. “I never even tried, I was kind of intimidated, if she’s the lady I’m thinking about.”

 

“Good. That’s a better answer.”

 

Natsume shifts his weight from foot to foot, still cold and irritable in spite of his own magic doing a pretty fantastic job of being pleasantly warm. “She was—still is, probably—the highest ranked priestess in the Isles. She wouldn’t have had time for you, anyway.”

 

“If I keep telling you your mom is very cool, are you going to let me kiss you?” Kaoru asks idly.

 

“I—um?”

 

Kaoru arches an eyebrow. “Is that a no? I can stop asking. I just figured, you used to have a no-fuck-me spell on, and you don’t anymore, soooo….”

 

“I-it wasn’t a—why do you have to say it like that!” Natsume sputters, his face as red as his hair. “It was a protection spell! Lord Rei kept trying to eat me!”

 

“Mm. And now that you decided to let him, it’s gone,” Kaoru says, amused. “Is that right? You sent me that flare of memories, despite telling me how happy you are that you’re so good at telepathy that you never send something on accident.”

 

“Wh—I—I was distracted! It was your fault! You made that happen!” Natsume hisses, looking pointedly aside. “I was doing a lot at once and _you_ sent me worse. Besides, I didn’t _decide_ anything, it was—“ Realizing how _that_ sounds belatedly, he fumbles over words for a moment before sinking to the ground with a stressed little groan muffled behind one sleeve.

 

Kaoru grins, and lays a hand on Natsume’s shoulder. “That’s how he happens to people, darling. Once he wants you…you just have to decide if you want to let him do whatever he wants, or tell him no entirely.”

 

Natsume wavers, stressed and embarrassed. This is _not_ the conversation he wants to have, not here in the middle of the woods, hoping and praying some obscure clan of paladins notices them and lets him raid their library of secrets.

 

And yet, here they are, and at least he’s talking to a human, a _real_ human for a change, as gross and maybe-definitely-racist that makes him.

 

His lower lip wobbles. “It wasn’t _like_ that,” he bemoans, lifting his head. “I _always_ wanted to, but—but it was—you know, a fantasy at best! But then Master decided, all of a sudden, that it was a _fine_ idea, and seeing the way Lord Rei was with Lord Shu, then being given permission, it’s not like…like I could _ever_ say no, or want to…” Natsume looks up at him, biting at his lower lip worriedly. “So that happened. And I’m glad, but I never thought I’d be the kind of person…that was so casual about it? It’s not like I think it’s a bad thing, people can do whatever they like! But I’m not like Lord Rei, I can’t just… _be_ with a random person and it’s just… _that_ , and nothing else. People say I’m a prude, but I _really_ don’t think I am…”

 

“But that isn’t all it was, is it?” Kaoru’s voice is gentle, and he leans back, kicking his legs forward, resting back on his hands. “It’s never ‘just sex’ if you really care for someone, and he’s never going to be a random person to you. A lot of people think that sex either has to mean _romantic love_ , or it means nothing, but I don’t think that’s right. I think it can mean a lot of things. It can strengthen a friendship. It can bring warmth to people who are feeling cold. And even your magic knows that’s true, right? It can form an unbreakable pact. It’s an act of intimacy, and if you do it with someone you like, you’re creating something really beautiful. Not everyone wants to do that all the time, and that’s fine, too.”

 

“Nnnnnnnn…” The sound is a very long, drawn-out sort of moan as Natsume drops his burning face back into his hands, scrubbing at it. “Does…does that all count even if it was all of them…which I think was a little bit Lord Rei’s fault…”

 

“Every orgy I’ve ever had was Rei’s fault,” Kaoru agrees. “Though, I won’t go so far as to say that I was a virginal shrine-priest before I met him.”

 

“…Again, it’s not like I didn’t want to,” is Natsume’s eventual muffled, and very embarrassed, response. “Because I did. A lot. But I’m pretty sure that—doing that—with e-every other Nightcloak…it _really_ wasn’t about magic for me.” The laugh that escapes is a touch high-pitched. “For once.”

 

“Well, what’s wrong with that?” Kaoru asks, reaching out to tousle Natsume’s hair. “You’re allowed to have fun once in a while.”

 

“That doesn’t seem fair, when everyone else is dying or hurt.” Natsume’s eyes slide sideways, not looking at Kaoru, but he doesn’t move away from the touch. “I just felt guilty afterwards, like I had wasted time, especially when they all wanted me to stay behind while they went North. Even if Lord Rei gave me hints to go and get you…it’s…mrrgh.” He huffs, giving himself a full-body shake. “I’m not that young. And I’m not a glass canon just because I’m a prophet! I’ve killed berserkers in one strike! Lord Rei tries so hard to keep me out of things like this, I hate it. I’m _useful._ ”

 

“In a war,” Kaoru says, his tone growing more serious, eyes unfocusing as he watches green flames dance, “you can’t ever keep anyone safe. Rei remembers that. And I think…he feels it coming, like I do. We’ll be there soon. Until then…I feel it, too. The compulsion to keep safe anyone we can however we can, even if it’s not in their best interests. You’re older than soldiers I’ve lead to their deaths, and I tell you what, I wish every day I’d been able to wrap them in cloth and send them home to their mamas. Don’t blame him too much. But don’t feel guilty for defying him, either. He doesn’t get to tell you what to do, or what’s worth dying for.”

 

Kaoru brushes his thumb against the dirt, almost idly. “Have you thought of that? That you might die? Like really processed that?”

 

“Everyone else I care about is out there trying to die,” Natsume mutters, picking at the hem of his skirts. “I’d rather do that with them than watch it happen and not be _allowed_ to help again, except by telling important people what I See.”

 

Kaoru turns to Natsume, pulling one knee up to his chest. “I’d be glad to have you at my side,” he says quietly. “If you want to fight. I don’t know where I’m going to be going, but I like you, and I think you’re smart and strong. Wherever I go, I promise there’ll be a chance for you to do some damage.”

 

Natsume hesitates, then nods slowly, glancing down again. “Except I probably have to go North. It’s the one place Wataru doesn’t want me to be, but every vision I see—“ He shivers unhappily. “That’s why I _need_ to know more about paladins—especially the early ones. The paladin sword in the North, the magic that’s being used…it involves them. And Lord Rei needs to know.”

 

Kaoru shrugs, and turns away, staring at the vast expanse of snow again. “Okay, never mind, then. I thought you wanted to go to battle with someone, but you’ve already got your mind made up, so…good hunting.”

 

“The battle _is_ in the North.” Natsume’s voice errs on the side of stressed again as his head whips up. “I know you don’t know that, but I do. I know I haven’t told you everything, either, so you can’t possibly know. Please don’t brush me off like that—I told you, I just don’t want to explain things until I _absolutely_ Know. But I will, I swear.”

 

“Hey, you were looking for validation from me,” Kaoru says, frowning a little. “Either that, or you already had your decision made, and you just wanted to complain about the man I married.”

 

“I’d never complain about Lord Rei, he was just an example,” Natsume huffily replies. “Wataru’s way worse, anyway. I _told you_ before that I had to go North. I like validation, but you have to listen to me, too. I would absolutely be your battle wizard and I’d be _very_ good at it, if that’s what the stars laid out!” 

 

Kaoru waves a hand. “You would be good at it,” he says, as a peace offering, because there’s no one else warm out here in the snow. “They’re wrong not to give you your chance, because they’re forgetting how it feels to be young. I just…I’ve never done what the stars told me. It’s a foreign way of thinking, for me.”

 

“More than you know, you do what the stars tell you,” Natsume says quietly. “You just…don’t have someone like me telling you what they have in store all the time. I try not to do that, unless people really ask for it.”

 

“There’s a reason the prophets of old stayed on their islands.” Kaoru rakes a hand back through his hair. “Some bad stuff has historically happened to them, on the mainland.”

 

“I deliberately avoid reading anything about that,” Natsume briskly interrupts. “Especially because I know I’m the first prophet to be here in several hundred years.”

 

“You avoid it? Why?”

 

“Because there’s a chance my visions will start showing what will happen to _me._ ”

 

Kaoru’s mouth quirks wryly. “You don’t want to know what the stars hold for you? Isn’t that a little…”

 

“Hypocritical? Yes. Absolutely. But I try to make up for it by making sure whoever asks me about their own fates also _really_ wants to know. Going off about someone’s future when they don’t want to hear about it is pretty awful, in my opinion.” Natsume shrugs uncomfortably. “There’s also…there’s an old story about prophets that have become obsessed with what their own stars. Their minds become consumed with nothing but that, and that’s all they can See. I’ve only ever had a handful of visions about myself, and they’re usually very…spur of the moment. I don’t try to conjure them like I do some others.”

 

Night falls quickly in the mountains, and even with Natsume’s green fire keeping them warm, Kaoru feels the chill seep in from the ground. Natsume’s words do nothing to offset that, so he doesn’t respond to them, merely takes off his cloak and lays it on the ground next to him, pulling out his sword and laying it across his lap. “It’s going to get a lot colder soon,” he says softly. “Come curl up. I’ll take the first watch.”

 

_I feel like we’re wasting time, isn’t there something else we can do, I hate waiting, I hate it._

 

Instead of vocalizing all of that, Natsume merely fumes for a moment, mulling the suggestion over, then slowly, worriedly, huddles down, gathering his own Nightcloak and fur cloak tighter about himself. “I can add protective wards all around,” he quietly offers up after another moment. “Or…whatever else.”

 

Kaoru has a feeling, before he says anything, that Natsume is used to being brushed off. Instead, he just smiles. “Thanks. That would be a big help.”

 

Natsume blinks a few times, the already prepared rebuttal stalling on his tongue. “Oh. Then…yes, good.”

 

He hauls himself up from his beginnings of a nest, hikes a skirt up to get at one dagger, and briskly blazes a path through the mounds of snow about them, picking five trees to carve runes into, even as his teeth chatter. “This way,” he grunts, breaking a tiny branch out of the way of his carving, “even if you’re distracted by something—you’ll have an extra minute to figure it out, at _least._ ”

 

The last carving is a pentagram that he slaps with his own blood, briskly procured from his arm, and each carving glows brilliantly green, connecting to one another with glowing cords that form another pentagram around them before disappearing from sight once more. Satisfied, Natsume trudges back to the fire and Kaoru, shivering uncontrollably.

 

Kaoru pats the cloak, and lays a hand on Natsume’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “You did a really good job. Get some rest. I’ll wake you if the Svalde come on us in the night.”

 

“Okay. Thank you.” Natsume sways, his eyes suddenly incredibly heavy, before he simply collapses to the side, directly onto the cloak in an unconscious heap.

 

The green fire flickers even in his dreams, which simply don’t allow for even a moment of _true_ rest.

 

Probably, he should have warned Kaoru about that. He thinks he might have at one point, or at least told him that his visions don’t stop even in sleep, every dream is part of Seeing—but the extent of that probably…didn’t get across.

 

_Long, silvery blue hair, a distracting, silky gradient against backdrops of snow sways in front of him, his hand clutched in that familiar, surprisingly cold (it’s usually warm? why is it so cold?) hand._

 

 _“Good job, good job,” an unfortunately familiar voice rings out before dissolving into laughter that sounds far from sane. “Hand him to me!_ Don’t worry, he’s all yours, I only have one thing I need from him, just like I said _—“_

 

_Blue eyes, sharp, too-bright, too blue—_

 

_Black talons—Wataru, too, no, that’s wrong—_

 

Natsume bolts upright, chest heaving, face pale and his entire body trembling in a way that has nothing to do with cold. The after images won’t leave, they _won’t_ , and he scrubs at his eyes, wishing he could reach through them and into his brain and _rip it out._

 

_“I’ll close the gate again,” Eichi flippantly is saying. “Just like last time…and all of you can stay. If you give me that—“_

 

_Gleaming steel, sharp and polished, laid across the lap of someone he doesn’t know or recognize._

 

Natsume jerks up to his feet, unable to _sit_ when it won’t stop, and bolts through the snow to his runes instinctively, checking them even as his breath comes out as hot, white puffs, just to make _sure_ they’re still intact.

 

“Hey, hey, easy.”

 

Dawn is breaking, and Kaoru’s eyes have dark circles under them, but he smiles tiredly all the same, still sitting cross-legged, sword still laid across his thighs. “I was going to wake you soon. There’s news. Does your…is every night like that, for you?”

 

_Wataru’s hands are on his wrists, but between his thighs is—_

 

This is what happens when he even _talks_ about having visions about himself, isn’t it? Natsume sucks in a ragged breath, scrubbing his hands over his face again, trying to will it away, _away_. Kaoru’s voice is good and grounding, a tie to the present, and not a future that seems like it couldn’t possibly be right. “M…more or less,” he hoarsely answers, slowly stumbling back from one of the runes, tripping over his skirts a bit into the snow, and making his way back to the fire. “What news?”

 

Kaoru holds up a small scroll, waving it a little. “This came with a dove. From Svalde. The current head, which is not someone I know, unfortunately, but maybe that’s fine. I already sent a response with our names and affiliations. The first missive said that after we respond, someone will be along to collect us soon. No idea how soon, though.”

 

“That’s good.” Probably. He thinks. Natsume stares off into the snow for a long moment, unresponsive, before giving himself a full body shake. That dislodges something, apparently, and he says, because he’s oddly certain now, “That sword is Eichi’s.”

 

Kaoru looks down, and blinks. “This sword? No, it’s mine.”

 

“The one in the North.”

 

Kaoru goes still. “That’s not possible,” he says flatly. “You mean Sorrow’s Heart. That’s an ancient paladin blade, it’s as old as our order itself. There’s no way he could take possession of a blade like that, with as little time as he’s had.”

 

“It’s his.” Natsume’s head slowly turns, stare locking on Kaoru, pupils little more than tiny, slitted dots in each glittering gold eye. “It called back to him. The way yours did…there’s a golden thread, I can see it, like the threads between bonded…”

 

His eyes roll back into his head, and he collapses into a heap again, breathing slowing gradually back to something normal by the time he opens his eyes a minute later, blinking and staring up at nothing foggily. “Oh…I really hated that.”

 

“What the hell was that?” Kaoru asks, his voice verging on nervous, but obviously trying to keep it together. “You looked like someone had cut your spine in half.” His coat is folded, resting underneath Natsume’s head to keep it propped up. “Are you sure you should be doing…whatever it is you’re doing?”

 

“…I don’t know what you’re asking,” Natsume slowly says, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “If you’re implying I See things like that on purpose…you’re very, very wrong. This is normal. Sorry, I should’ve given you more warning…” Wataru is used to it. Wataru usually just pats his head, and tucks him back into bed, and does not let him get up to frantically check on spellwork he’d left about the night before. Wataru—

 

_Talons and cold hands and long, icy hair—_

 

Natsume dry heaves, and lurches to the side when his stomach attempts to empty its contents into the snow. “I’m fine,” he abruptly says. “I’m fine.” 

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kaoru’s voice is as gentle as he can be, which is pretty gentle, considering he’s raised a few children to adulthood over his years, his own and others. He offers a hand to squeeze. “Eat a little snow, it’ll settle your stomach. You look green, and not from the flames.”

 

“Bad,” Natsume mutters, slowly twisting back around and grabbing both for Kaoru’s hand and a handful of snow, even though he does nothing with it but hold it and let the cold burn through his fingers. “Bad in the way that I have to be wrong for once. Bad in the ‘it doesn’t make sense’ way.” He sucks in a slow, shaky breath, deciding to focus on the one thing less likely to make him lapse back. “The sword thing.”

 

“Sorrow’s Heart,” Kaoru agrees. “That’s the part I want to talk about, too.” He squeezes Natsume’s hand. “Is it like before—if I talk about what I know about the sword, will your Sight pick up more?”

 

 _I don’t want to, I don’t want to, I don’t want to._ “Probably.” The last thing he wants is to see Eichi’s face. “It’s worth a try.” Avoiding something like this is a reason why the others would leave him behind.

 

Kaoru hesitates, feeling the tension in that small hand. “Then again…would it even help? So Eichi has the sword, he probably just killed a clan leader and bonded it to himself,” he says, as if that makes sense, as if that would lead to the kind of bond Natsume’s talking about. “Maybe it’s best to leave it alone.”

 

“No,” Natsume says, hollowly, but very decisively. “Not like that.”

 

_“You can give that back now.”_

 

_“No. It’s mine.”_

 

_“It’s not yours, it’s mine. It was temporary, remember now?”_

 

“A trade…the other archdemon has it. No. Collateral. For the other one’s mate.” Natsume rubs his other hand over his eyes, forgetting the snow he’s holding (and melting) and uncaring. “He struck a bargain, probably. That’s how Ei…the previous Emperor likes to do things.” Saying his name suddenly feels _very bad_ , on a scale of one to _worst_.

 

Kaoru draws his legs up, resting his forearms on them, his fingers steepled. “Okay. The other archdemon. What do you know about him? I’m sorry to grill you, but…we aren’t doing anything else. Might as well pull this thread until it goes somewhere. Or we could play hookey, forget the whole thing and hope the Svalde have the answers. I can think of a few fun ways to spend a pleasant morning that don’t involve digging through the future.”

 

“No—we have to do it while it’s fresh,” Natsume mutters, shivering hard as he looks aside. “This one woke me up, that means it didn’t Finish. But…the other archdemon…I can’t See him at all. I don’t know his face or his name. Just that he has the previous Emperor’s sword.”

 

Kaoru exhales deeply. “I’m…so uncomfortable with you calling it his sword. Sorrow’s Heart has been in the paladins’ care for as long as there have been paladins. Every paladin of a certain age goes to touch it, at least once. It’s more than a sword to us, it’s a symbol—unchanging, unbending, eversharp, everready, despite the years. It’s supposed to be what we aspire to be—the sword that only cuts one way. It’s supposedly cast from an alloy they’ve forgotten how to make, and is as sharp today as it was when it was forged. I touched it, when I was fourteen.”

 

“Where was it then?” Natsume asks after a moment of blankly staring into the fire. “Which clan?”

 

“Ah…Hilbrandt,” Kaoru recalls, staring at the sky as he thinks. “It changes hands every so often. Or it did, I remember them saying it did, but I don’t remember it ever being somewhere else. But…I know I say I’m not a good paladin pretty often, but I hope you’re believing me, I really haven’t spent any time around them for the vast majority of my life.”

 

“I have no reason not to believe you.” Natsume shuts his eyes after they start to sting from not blinking for so long. “Hilbrandt. So the previous Emperor sympathizers. Kaoru, I’m telling you it’s his sword. There are two, _maybe_ three wizards alive that can see magical construct and threads the way I can. _I Saw it_ , in my dream, as clear as day, so I was looking for it in the future for the current me to see it now. It’s bright gold, just like the one going from you and that sword in your possession, which is how I knew which one belonged to you back in the Conclave.”

 

“…A strand of my hair is worked into the metal of this sword,” Kaoru says quietly, looking down at it. “And a drop of my blood was used to cool it. That’s the old way, and my family still does things this way. If that’s how his was made…” He shivers. “What is he?”

 

“That’s why I wanted access to old records so badly,” Natsume finally, miserably admits, releasing Kaoru’s hand as he huddles up, pulling his cloak tightly about himself, as if there’s some, lingering bit of Shu there that might grant him a tidbit of advice. “I kept thinking and thinking, about how he did things. Magical things, that a wizard shouldn’t find so easy. Closing a Sorrow’s Gate nearly killed Lord Shu—he did it, but it still nearly killed him, and he’s _amazing_. How can the previous Emperor, weakened, after one feeding, walk off into the dawn, close it, and stumble his way back, mostly unscathed? Unless it wasn’t a wizard’s way that he did it.”

 

“I have no idea,” Kaoru admits frankly. “I don’t know what he can do, and I don’t know what makes it different. But if he’s doing it like one of us…”

 

The thought makes him a little ill. “That’s…wrong,” he says, face pale. “Paladins were created to drive off the demons who preyed on humans. That’s literally our first order of operations, always. Stopping things like him.”

 

“Unless he _became_ that, and wasn’t _born_ that,” Natsume quietly says. “I don’t know about paladins, and I don’t know that much about the history of the Shadowlands or its Depths—but I _do_ know Lord Rei kept freaking out about the idea of you tossing yourself onto a gate to close it. We know the previous Emperor can’t die…at least, not in the same sense that we can. So if he did that, and then just…had enough power still anchored here—after a fresh feeding from Lord Rei and Wataru, he’d have a lot, _plus_ his bond—in theory…it’s easy. It’s easy for him to do that.” His lower lip trembles, and he buries his face down into his knees for a moment. “I started thinking about it when Lord Rei called the magic he worked on Leo a ‘fancy paladin spell.’ I just didn’t say anything then, because I really, really didn’t want to bring up something and be wrong…”

 

“You think he’s a paladin,” Kaoru says flatly. “You think he started as one of us. Maybe even…”

 

“You are Kaoru of the Hakaze and the wizard prophet Natsume,” says a quiet voice. The mists around the green fire swirl, and reveal a slender figure, standing tall just outside of Natsume’s wards. The figure is hooded and cloaked in the same misty gray, only showing pale, long-fingered hands. “Release your wards. The Svalde have come for you.”

 

Natsume’s head snaps up, and he licks warily at cold-chapped lips. He spares a wary glance to Kaoru— _at least this is what they said would happen?_ —before rising unsteadily to his feet, pulling his Nightcloak tighter about himself as he releases the protective ward about the area with a quiet snap of his fingers. “Maybe hold that thought,” he softly says underneath his breath, reaching automatically for Kaoru’s sleeve.

 

“You will not touch,” the Svalde says, voice ambiguous, but firm. “You will not speak to each other. You will submit to being blindfolded to protect the secrecy of our archives.”

 

Kaoru’s eyes widen. “I didn’t have to last time—“

 

“The world has changed,” the Svalde replies levelly. “If it were not for certain…mitigating aspects of your identities, you would not be allowed any access at all.”

 

This, at least, seems about par for the course for secret organizations, places, or archives. “That’s fine, then,” he quietly agrees, dropping his hand and side-eyeing Kaoru. _Just agree. If it turns sour, we’ll wiggle our way out of it one way or another._

 

Kaoru worries at his bottom lip, then nods, and accepts the gray blindfold the Svalde provides. After the Svalde checks his vision, it says, “Take this, and follow.”

 

A moment later, a soft rope touches Kaoru’s hand, and he grips it, following where it pulls. After a few minutes of walking, his feet hit wood, and he steps up when encouraged. A moment later, the platform starts to move, a surprisingly smooth motion of a cart.

 

It’s difficult to tell how long they’re on the cart, and Kaoru yearns to talk to Natsume, to reach out and touch him, if only to make sure he’s still there. He doesn’t dare even talk mind-to-mind. Even if he were better at it, there’s no guarantee the Svalde isn’t trained in spotting such a thing.

 

Natsume, for his part, takes a nap.

 

There’s not much else to do in a circumstance like this, and it’s better to nap like a cat sleeping on a hay wagon and _maybe_ catch the tail end of a vision than to fret. The waking world is somehow more troubling than the one of nothing but visions and dreams, especially when he’s left alone to think about what he’s Seen— _nothing good._

 

Kaoru, maybe something about Kaoru would be easier to grasp.

 

_The weight of Kaoru’s cloak over bare shoulders, warm hands, the only other weight on his skin the dozens of braids his hair is wound up into being released onto his back—_

 

No, too vague, his mind only wants to Reveal the North.

 

 _Wataru had promised, he had_ promised _, he had pledged his loyalty to Rei, Natsume had been there, Natsume had seen it, so_ why—

 

_The other archdemon’s face. He’s so tall, almost as tall as Rei, with silver hair, almost like a drake. And the drude—_

 

Natsume’s eyes snap open behind his blindfold as the cart rumbles to a stop. He blinks, blaming the sting of salt tears on the chill once more, and tries to summon a shiver to convince himself that that’s truly the cause.

 

“Prophet.” The Svalde’s voice is as quiet as ever, as calm as every other word. “Soon we will enter the Halls of Silence. Your dreams will not follow. If you wish to complete a last vision, this is your last opportunity before we pass through the archway.”

 

“…Thank you, but I’m done,” Natsume exhales, though he has to admit, he doesn’t _entirely_ believe it. Wataru promised him a ‘dreamless sleep’ before. So much for that.

 

“You may find it disturbing,” the Svalde warns, and then they pass through the archway, and all of Natsume’s magic vanishes.

 

Natsume bolts where he sits, and it does take an _intense_ effort not to dive back out. The second intense effort is to not grab for where Kaoru might be—probably is? He can’t tell anymore. The realization that he normally feels the world through nothing but magic is a sudden, stark one, and the troubling feeling of vulnerability follows, making him drop a hand to his thigh, curling anxiously against the outline of his dagger there.

 

Not a single, wiggling stray thought. It’s so quiet. _So_ quiet. Weird, weird, weird.

 

…Maybe okay, though, if he actually wants to sleep like he did before he bloomed.

 

It’s difficult to tell how long they’ve been in the cart, but suddenly, it stops, and the blindfolds are removed. Kaoru blinks over at Natsume in relief. Still there, still intact. He gives an encouraging smile, then looks around, fighting the urge to whistle through his teeth.

 

The Halls of Silence are as tall as any of the trees outside, stocked floor-to-ceiling with scrolls, leatherbound books, and sheafs of papers bound together, labeled by no means that Kaoru can see. The Svalde still wears the long gray cloak, and regards them both calmly. “Kaoru of the Hakaze. Our Most Wise wishes to speak to you privately. You will be given lodging, separately or together as you prefer.”

 

“Together. Please.” Kaoru looks over at Natsume, as if hoping he won’t contradict him.

 

“Prophet. A guide will be sent here to ensure you find everything you need.”

 

“T-thank you,” Natsume manages, blinking a few times as he tries to recall how he focused his eyes on the world around him before he was _nine_. He slowly starts to move, sliding out of the cart, and wobbles for a moment as he gets his bearings. “I’m fine,” he swiftly reassures Kaoru before it can be asked, even though he’s _fairly certain_ he meant to think that in his general direction. Oh, gods, this is going to take some getting used to.

 

Kaoru moves to catch his elbow, but the Svalde steps between them before he can, with a grace that doesn’t feel quite human, though it might just be because he himself feels so weirdly slow and awkward right now. “Come with me, Kaoru of the Hakaze. Prophet, your guide will be along shortly. Wait at the table until she arrives.”

 

Is it just him, or is the world so… _plain?_

 

Admittedly, when was the last time something didn’t glitter at him? Even dirt does that sometimes, because it might hold the key to opening up his Sight. Natsume slumps down at the table, trying not to stare too plaintively after Kaoru, and instead on his surroundings a bit more. A guide _definitely_ would be needed for this place, no matter the length of time spent here—and they’re in a hurry, making this all the worse.

 

After ten minutes, another cloaked figure appears, though she has the hood of his cloak down, revealing a thin face, pale as if she’s never seen the sun, gaunt cheekbones casting shadows, pale gray eyes gleaming with intelligence. Her long-fingered hands are folded in front of her, eyes focused on Natsume. “Greetings, Prophet,” she says, her voice flat and quiet. “I am Areia. Whatever guidance you may need here, it is yours at my service.”

 

Kaoru might be disturbed to know this runs an interesting parallel to how some of the seers in the Isles live their lives, albeit on a much smaller scale. That’s a conversation for later, of course, but an intriguing comparative study all the same. “Thank you for your hospitality,” Natsume settles upon, carefully rising to his feet with a hand braced onto the table. “If anyone has the knowledge I seek, it must be here. Specifically…the progenitors of the paladins. How they were born into this world, where they came from. And…if possible…to find if the previous Emperor was a part of that.”

 

“This is power in words that you seek,” says Areia, without any judgment in her tone. “To what use will you put this knowledge, if you are given everything you ask for?”

 

“…In due time, to rid the land of him,” Natsume quietly says. “Even if it’s just for another hundred years.”

 

Aeria pauses, and turns to face away from Natsume. “There are two particular sections you may wish to focus on. What languages do you read?”

 

“The common tongue, Shadowtongue, some Sandtongue.” Wataru had tormented him about the former, and Mika the latter. “And enough Dragontongue.” A surprising number of old spellbooks feature that nightmare.

 

“Ancient Yumeian?” she asks, then shakes her head. “Unlikely, but some of the more intriguing texts, I can translate as you’d like. The first section I will recommend is this way. The Hallowed Adversarials Collection. The Svalde have compiled every firsthand account of men, wizards, women, and creatures who have fought the most fearsome powers our world has to offer in this section. You may learn much from their triumphs and defeats.”

 

“Hopefully, I will,” Natsume settles for agreeing with as he steps around the table. “Two questions. One—do you know if any of the texts mention the previous Emperor by name? Or Sorrow’s Heart, even? And…two…” This one is more embarrassing. “Do you know how long they’ll keep Lord Kaoru? I was hoping to have his insight as well.”

 

“I am a scholar,” Aeria says calmly. “Not a politician. The other section you’ll wish to view is only written in Ancient Yumeian. I will translate for you, at your request. But I warn you, you may find it disturbing. Prophets often do.”

 

 _“I deliberately avoid reading anything about that”—_ famous last words, especially in the aftermath of those particularly unpleasant dreams. Natsume suppresses a shiver, sets his jaw, and squares his shoulders. “That’s fine. Then…let’s just get started. It sounds like I have a lot of ground to cover.”

 


	34. Chapter 34

 

Aeria manages to show Natsume through perhaps one tenth of the first section, notably, the first notation of king’s encounters with Eichi through the years, before the hour-candles burn down, and she escorts him up a long spiral staircase to a nondescript door, taking twists and turns along the way, through dozens of identical corridors. She raps, then opens the door. “When you wish to return to the library, pull the bell outside of your door,” she says pleasantly. “Any time, day or night. Someone will come. Please do not wander off alone. The corridors are unmarked for the safety of our guests.”

 

“Hey,” Kaoru says softly from the room’s sole bed, looking exhausted. “Good day?”

 

“…Unmarked for the safety of our guests, my ass,” Natsume grouses as the door shuts behind him. In his arms is a stack of parchment—at least he’d been allowed to take notes, while being cheerfully informed that if he tried to remove any of it from the premises, it would light on fire (and him as well)—that he promptly tosses onto the tiny wooden desk. His hair, still braided in dozens of tiny, now-less-than-neat braids, is down from the pinned up coil it is usually kept in for travel, the mix of red and white stark against the heavy weight of his cloak that he still wears. “‘Good’ is a word for it,” he mutters, wavering near the desk a moment longer before he starts to pace. “I should go back and keep working. Or something. Sorry—I’ll get back to it soon, it was just…” He swallows, then shrugs. “A lot. You look like you had…a day. What happened?”

 

“Oh, they just had a lot of questions,” Kaoru assures him. “I honestly can’t tell if that was a scholarly interview, or whether they’re not sure if I’m guilty of a crime. In my experience, people who ask you the same questions five times and take extremely careful notes could be doing either. Come sit here, rest your eyes, I’ll fix your hair.”

 

Natsume hesitates, stills for a pace, then rather akin to a feral cat that has been convinced to be friendly because there’s food or shelter, slinks his way over. “If I shut my eyes, I’m going to end up going to sleep,” he mutters, collapsing onto the end of the bed. “You don’t have to fix anything, I’m just going to take it down. I always braid it like that when I’m traveling in hopes it’ll look curly again when it’s down, like it used to be. It looked like my mother’s before I started using magic all the time.” He pauses, backs up mentally a few steps, and says, sort of resignedly, “That was too much information and I did _not_ realize I was saying it out loud. Sorry.”

 

Kaoru gives him a lopsided smile. “I kind of like it. I think you’re cute without a filter. Don’t worry, I won’t take advantage.”

 

He reaches up, fiddling with the end of a braid. “Your hair is cute when it’s straight, you know. I assume, at least. You don’t have to look like your mother to be beautiful.”

 

“I wish you’d t—“ At least that time, he _realizes_ that he’s about to say _way too much_ , and clamps down on it in time. Still, that’s _mortifying_ , and Natsume feels his face turn nearly as red as his hair in a heartbeat. “Just put me out of my misery,” he mutters, mostly to himself, before he pulls a handful of braids over his shoulder to unbind them—then realizes the reason most of them _are_ messy and falling out is because they aren’t bound by any sort of cord or string. “I don’t think I realized how much I _use_ magic until this very moment,” he says after taking a moment to process that. “I did my hair with it. _My hair._ ”

 

“Then maybe this is a good learning experience,” Kaoru suggests, trying not to feel warm inside at everything Natsume keeps almost, not _quite_ , saying. Damn. He’s hardly Kaoru’s type, but…well, _cute_ is his type, and Natsume is verging on that. One of his types, at least.

 

Carefully, he starts unwinding each braid, pulling a comb from his pack and tending to each strand individually. “I have a few leather cords, but not this many. When I put it back up, I’ll just do one really fat one.”

 

“I already said you don’t have to,” Natsume protests, though it’s less emphatic than he’d like, especially when it feels good to have Kaoru’s fingers running through his hair at any given time. He fights down a shiver, picking his own handful of braids open one by one. “Just leave it when we’re done, it can be weird for a little while. It _used_ to be curly, maybe it’ll remember how, without magic messing with it.” His eyes lid. “There’s…so _much_ in that library, Kaoru.”

 

“Mm. I like it when you say my name,” Kaoru teases, and tugs on a loose strand. “You don’t do it very often. How did the research go, today? Was I right about where to come?”

 

“That’s because names have power and you’re not allowed to have any extra,” Natsume grumbles. “But…you were more than right about where to come.” He exhales a slow breath, staring over at the stack of his notes. “I spent the entire day just reading through accounts of kings since the beginning of the crown, and how every single one of them has worked with the previous Emperor.” 

 

Kaoru’s eyes widen. “The first one? The Academy wasn’t even built then, what were they…working with him…about? Ah, if this is information you don’t think I need to have, you don’t have to tell me. I know there are some secrets better kept in a place like this.”

 

“If I die, _someone_ has to go and tell Lord Rei,” Natsume murmurs, a statement that definitely was meant to be a thought. “They were working with him with…everything. The establishment of the government. Wars. Feuds between the lands, before they were even properly divided. He…” Natsume swallows, shrugging uncomfortably. “Without his influence, there wouldn’t _be_ a kingdom. He pushed back the Shadowlands, taught humans how to keep demons at bay.”

 

“And for all of that invaluable assistance,” Kaoru says softly, “how long before he started asking for things? Like dominion of all the wizards? Gods, what else has he set up in the government that we don’t even know about?”

 

“So much,” Natsume groans, tipping his head forward into his hands, his fingers raking back through his hair. “So, so much. I’m not even half-way through this _one_ account. It’s endless. He’s so old, Kaoru. And he’s _powerful_ , he’s—he’s…I don’t know.”

 

“He’s probably insane,” Kaoru says frankly. “After that long, how could you not be? Heh, like I’m one to talk.”

 

His fingers brush gently through Natsume’s hair, never snagging or snarling no matter the tangle. “Did everyone know he was a paladin? Did it use to be…common knowledge?”

 

Natsume gives up unbraiding his own hair, too distracted by his own thoughts. Even if he isn’t Seeing, he’s left alone with his own brain, and that’s less than good when it’s overloaded. “You’re going to _hate_ what I tell you about that.”

 

“Tell me. People have been quiet about this for long enough.”

 

“He was _the_ paladin.” It’s a quiet statement, a little exhausted, a little terrified. “He’s where your order came from. He’s…the old gods. Sorrow’s Heart was forged the way it was because _he_ made it. Every king regarded him as some kind of…angel, because that’s as much as they could understand a seraphim come to our plain that banished demons and worked magic.”

 

“A seraphim.”

 

It’s a good thing Kaoru is sitting down. Even so, he feels as if he’s been kicked in the chest, all the wind driven out of him. “You’re serious.”

 

“Yes.” The reply is hollow. “Though I’d love to be lying.”

 

“A seraphim,” Kaoru repeats, voice bleak. “A real one. Not…not a half-seraphim, half-human.”

 

“Small wonder he stays around, huh.” Natsume finally turns his head back, his eyes still slitted, catlike gold even without the glitter of magic constantly playing behind them. “Tomorrow…I’m going to see what the other archives hold. Apparently, there’s some whole _diary_ that was written by him underneath an alias. Should be a horrifying read, I’m sure.” He turns forward again with an unhappy shiver. “Everything humans think on the Mainland…it’s what _he_ thinks. Their views on demons, their views on wizards, even how they hunted dragons to the point of near-destruction, and forced anyone with Sight to the Isles…”

 

“We’re going up against a god,” Kaoru says bleakly. “A god who’s created our entire world in his image.” He wipes a hand down his face, then forces his hands to start unbraiding again when his throat just wants to close up. “I like a challenge, but damn. This is starting to feel like masochism. Really…really pointless masochism.”

 

“He absolutely was sent away before,” Natsume tiredly says, his shoulders slumping. “Not…just by Leo. But before, he was sent away, to the Depths. I think that’s how he started becoming…what he is, you know? But I haven’t finished reading everything, and it’s so much…”

 

His lower lip trembles, and he bites down onto it, _hard_ , to keep himself from dissolving. “It’s fine,” he firmly says. “If Lord Rei knows what he’s up against—he can do something. He just has to _know_. Operating on the assumption that the previous Emperor is just another archdemon, even if Lord Rei already knows that he’s more than that, isn’t enough.”

 

“‘More’ is one thing,” Kaoru says softly. “You’re talking about him being a god. _My_ god, which is something I find pretty obnoxious in a lot of ways, to be honest. How someone who feeds on people could ever found an order like ours…” He lets out a humorless little laugh. “I mean, it _does_ make sense that he was so incredibly angry about the thrall on Leo.”

 

“He’s _so_ angry.” The words are suddenly very, very quiet. “If you touch something that he sees as his, he won’t just…let it go.”

 

Kaoru pauses in unbraiding Natsume’s hair, then determinedly continues. “Even gods have to die sometime. Don’t worry. I won’t let him get you.”

 

“I already Saw it. It is what it is.” Natsume sucks in a quick breath and hurriedly pulls a braid of his shoulder to fidget with. “It’s fine. If I can help Lord Rei like this, then it’s fine. You call the previous Emperor a god, but Lord Rei’s power…in the Shadowlands, they call him the ‘True King’, did you know that? I found that out, when I went, a few years ago. They compare him to some of the Demon Kings of the past—the eras I’m reading about now.”

 

Kaoru puffs out his chest a little at that. “He’s much more powerful than anyone gives him credit for, that’s for sure. One time, we were traveling, and we were walking the horses, because mine was acting lame. He was talking about music and got distracted, and tried to hand me his horse.”

 

“He…hold on. He tried to hand you his horse? Like…by the reins, or…”

 

“Like he picked the poor thing up in one hand and tried to pass him over. Big old gelding, too. Not that it would have been easy with a pony or anything, but the damn thing was seventeen hands if he was one.”

 

Natsume blinks a few times, sparing a look back at Kaoru, as if trying to determine if he’s joking or not. “You’re serious.” It’s ridiculous to think about, but it _is_ Rei, and he’s… “I mean…I suppose he really is very strong. He’s picked me up with no problem before. I don’t weigh as much as a horse, but _still._ ”

 

Kaoru stares at him for a moment, his turn to wonder if the other is serious. “You can’t possibly think it’s some great feat to pick _you_ up. You’re tiny.”

 

“…Pick me up.”

 

Kaoru snorts. “Okay. Get up.”

 

Natsume hops to his feet, eyebrows raised expectantly. “You’ll see.”

 

Kaoru stands, looking skeptical. “Your magic doesn’t work in here,” he warns. “So if this is some trick you pulled on Rei—“

 

He reaches out and takes Natsume by the waist, then grunts with sudden, unexpected effort. He braces his feet, trying again, and just, _just_ manages to raise him an inch off the ground. “What the hell?” he gasps, setting him down again, hearing the wooden floors creak ominously.

 

“Told you,” Natsume mildly says, straightening his skirts with a brisk brush of his hands. “It’s the dragon’s blood. We retain the same density and weight as a dragon…which are obviously quite heavy, even with the hollow bones. It’s why I ride demon horses. Or teleport.”

 

Kaoru grins. “And why you only go to bed with creatures that can protect themselves from being crushed?”

 

“I usually can magically restrict how much I effect others around me, so that has nothing to do with it!” Natsume immediately protests, his cheeks immediately turning pink as he slaps Kaoru’s chest. “I mean—I never _noticed_ it being a problem before because of that, sure—“

 

“Oh, so you just have a taste for insanely powerful, blue-haired guys much, much older than you?” Kaoru teases, flopping back onto the bed.

 

“I really don’t want to talk about them right now.”

 

It’s not Kaoru’s fault for bringing it up when he doesn’t know what Natsume Saw, but that doesn’t make it feel less like a punch to the gut to think about it _again_. He swallows, turning away, fiddling with the ties of his cloak before he finally takes it off, even if removing something Shu made makes him feel intensely vulnerable. Surely, even in a place like this, some of that magic has to still work…or so he’d like to think against all logic. “Anyway. I’m hoping I can find something about how he was sent to the Depths in the first place tomorrow. They just…talk about it like it’s a commonplace thing, for someone to be tossed there. The kings of old are much more…militant, than the current king. Though they’re all sleeping with that thing; I swear his dick is made of gold or something, ugh…”

 

Kaoru knows when to take a hint, and he backs immediately off the subject, flopping back on the bed. “How long was he down there for, do you think? I’m sure you’ll know more once you read it, but just thinking of our history…”

 

“I don’t know _that_ much about the Mainland’s history,” Natsume admits, reaching a hand back to yank out the knot of his corset strings. “Or the paladins, obviously, so I can’t say just yet. Long enough for something strange to happen to him, I imagine. Lord Rei hasn’t been mentioned yet, and I know they have quite some history between the two of them, so…”

 

“Rei didn’t start coming to the Mainland—heh, now you’ve got me calling it that—to our country until the last couple hundred years. But the realm itself has been around, in one form or another, since…I mean, it must be five times that. How much did you read in one day?”

 

“…A lot. I…had to skip some of it, after awhile. I’ll go back, if I can’t find what I need to know elsewhere, but…I can only hear kings talk about their ‘conquests’ with him for so long, you know?”

 

“He’s absolutely adept at being what they want him to be,” Kaoru says softly. “He’s doing the same thing with our king. Leo doesn’t even see that he’s being ripped apart from the inside.”

 

“He thinks he’s in love with him,” Natsume wearily says, shucking his corset and tossing it over the back of the room’s lone chair along with his cloak. “As if that’s something new. Every king thought that. Oh, sure, they try to write about it in some distant way, but the subtleties of homoeroticism are really lost on them.”

 

Kaoru snorts. “Kings always think they’re poets, don’t they? But so few of them have any real gifts. It’s hard to cultivate real artistry when everyone around you thinks they’ll get their very own fief for kissing your ass.”

 

“Ugh. He certainly got uppity when I refused to do as much. The Isles aren’t under his jurisdiction, he can’t do anything about it,” Natsume sniffs, kicking his boots off before finally calming down enough to collapse onto the end of the bed again. “After reading through all of this mess—Mainlanders are awful. Not you, I like you.” He pauses, and wipes a hand slowly down his face. “I can’t believe I used to be a functional, normal human that didn’t just—say whatever was in his head.”

 

“And I can’t believe that this is how you act when you _like_ someone.” Kaoru stretches out on the bed, raising an eyebrow. “What do you do when you dislike them, just spit acid directly into their face? You can come lay properly, I’m not going to bother you in your sleep, no matter how pretty you are. Tonight, I don’t think I could bother a mouse, I’m that tired.”

 

“I wish I could spit fire, like a real dragon,” Natsume mutters, lingering a moment longer before slowly crawling further into the bed, albeit somewhat stiffly. “At least I can’t wake you up with my dreams tonight,” he quietly says as he huddles up into a ball, facing Kaoru’s chest. “Sorry about that again, I should’ve warned you.”

 

“How do you ever get any sleep, being woken up every night?” Kaoru asks, already a little slurred. The second he stretches out, his body seems to take that as a cue, and his mind starts immediately drifting, his eyelids going heavy.

 

“I don’t,” is Natsume’s simple answer, his own eyes sliding shut and for once, he isn’t met with the tell-tale glimmer of the future.

 

…which is probably why it feels like he sleeps for a million years, and waking up feels like he’s crawling out of the depths of the Redwater Sea.

 

Natsume blinks groggily, unable to entirely process the where and what and how of where he is. He _is_ warm. Comfortably warm, pressed up against something solid with a naturally beating heart, and so his head thunks down again as he allows himself another few, meandering moments of sleep.

 

Both his legs and the fabric of his skirts alike are tangled when he shifts, wriggled up against—oh. Yes. That’s Kaoru. Not only is it Kaoru, but it’s so _much_ Kaoru that he has his arms and legs both wrapped around him in something of a death grip, face buried into his chest. How long he’s been like this is questionable, but he knows his own habits well, and how many times he’s woken up to this exact position with Wataru.

 

“…this is how I die,” is his low, mumbled statement that is most definitely not meant to be vocalized. “Comfy…”

 

A rumbling laugh echoes low through Kaoru’s chest, and his arm comes up, gently stroking through Natsume’s hair. “I thought _I_ really needed to sleep,” he murmurs. “You inspired me, I went back to sleep like three times. You didn’t even roll over when I got up to piss.”

 

“Kitties know the warmest places to sleep, that’s why,” is the groggy retort as Natsume’s head butts into Kaoru’s chest. He doesn’t even have it in him to pull back. Why should he? “What _day_ is it?”

 

“Judging by the hour candles, we’ve been here for two days,” Kaoru says, keeping his tone soft, affectionate as he strokes Natsume’s hair. _Don’t get too attached, he’s with someone else and he’s weird about it, you’re just his escort. Even if something did happen, you’d probably just confuse the poor kid._ “They’ve been bringing me news. Nothing spectacular. The demons are attacking the border patrol, but Svalde scouts say there haven’t been any big rumbles yet.”

 

“…I almost hoped you’d say it had been a week and the end of the world had already happened, and so for once, I’d be wrong.”

 

He’s given up on being embarrassed about that kind of slip-up, that kind of lack of filter. The rest…well, he certainly is still wrapped around Kaoru like he’s some kind of large pillow, but he’s willing to not think too deeply about that while he’s petted and warmed. “I need to go start reading again,” Natsume mutters. “The sooner I find…anything at all…the sooner we can help Lord Rei.”

 

“It’s late,” Kaoru murmurs. “I sent Rei a note, he knows where we are. If anything is urgent, we’ll know about it. The Svalde know our mission, they wouldn’t stop us.”

 

He stretches out, stifling a yawn, wrapping an arm around Natsume’s waist. “Rest a little more, we’ll start fresh in the morning. I can read, too, you know.”

 

It’s hard to argue against that, especially when he does _not_ want to get up. Sleep is a fairly nice thing, actually. “If they let you come with me, that would be good,” Natsume drowsily murmurs, his fingers curling against Kaoru’s back. “You can listen to the stuff I don’t like. They translate it for you, if the language is really old. Nhh, don’t stop petting me.”

 

“How old are we talking?” Kaoru asks, amused as he gives in to the order, petting gently. “Skrisetaen? I’m rusty, I’ll admit, but I’m pretty sure the cow’s head still means fertility.”

 

“Ancient Yumeian. You’re smarter than you look, that’s sexy.”

 

Kaoru grins. “Don’t make me read it out loud in front of the Svalde, my accent is terrible.”

 

“Can you speak Shadowtongue?” Natsume sleepily asks, lifting his head, finally, to look up at Kaoru, hair thoroughly mussed and in an _intense_ state of fluffiness from being braided for days, and now without the influence of magic to straighten it beyond his control. “Or is that…you know. Extra forbidden for paladins.”

 

“Extra forbidden,” Kaoru assures him, then winks. “But Rei taught me a lot of things that are extra forbidden for paladins. My father even sanctioned that one. Know thy enemy, etcetera. Ah…” _Bite your tongue, paladin. Don’t tell the adorable young man that he looks like something you’d like to wake up to for a sweet decade or so. He’s not yours to want._

 

Natsume’s head flops back down, but his eyes stay trained on Kaoru, half-lidded. “Your father sanctioned it. _Really._ ”

 

“I mean…he said it was, and I quote, not as disgusting or destructive as anything else I was spending my time or using my tongue doing. So. If you knew him, you’d see that’s a huge compliment.”

 

“Sounds like a lot of stuffy parents, but…wow. You must’ve been doing a lot of disgusting and destructive things if sanctioned _anything_ with the Demon King was better for a paladin.” Natsume pauses, obviously troubled. “That sounds meaner than I wanted it to, I think.”

 

Kaoru shrugs a shoulder, his mouth twisting. “Nothing I haven’t heard before. He kicked me out of the house the first time when I was fifteen, he’d been losing it on me for a few years at that point. It all worked out, though, so I can’t complain.”

 

“Hearing that makes me even more glad I don’t know my father. Men are scary.”

 

“Yeah.” Kaoru’s mouth twitches, though he doubts that can be properly called a smile. That’s always hard, when talking about the old man. “I tried to be a better father to my kids, when I could. Some of them made it easier than others, heh.”

 

“The one with Lord Rei…he’s safe,” Natsume murmurs, his face butting into Kaoru’s chest again. “Lord Shu took him South.”

 

“Don’t talk about him, please.” Kaoru closes his eyes, relaxing back onto the bed. “The less I know, the less I can ruin. But…thanks. Shu is…a good person, despite my personal issues there.”

 

“…Sorry.” Natsume snuggles up against him all the same, unwilling to lose his source of warmth. “Did Lord Rei ever tell you…I was the one that prophesied him going to the Academy again and finding out about Lord Shu?” His voice is wry. “I was nine. He was so annoyed. He had short hair then, and it was _good_.”

 

“I miss his short hair,” Kaoru says wistfully. “It was so charming. And no, he never told me about that. He absolutely wanted to keep you his little secret. Don’t feel bad about that, we’ve always kept plenty of secrets from each other. It’s how we keep from killing each other.”

 

“Stressful,” Natsume mutters, nails digging into Kaoru’s back. “Don’t ever kill each other, I like you both.”

 

“Ow, sharp. Mm, we won’t really. But have you ever spent five years in a room with someone, with only three books and a set of cards? You start to get…snippy.”

 

Natsume retracts his fingers immediately. “Umm…no? I…I haven’t. When was that? _Where_ was that?”

 

“Oh, the Western Insurrection, some…mm, however long ago that was. The Year of the Dancer, I think. We were helping out a border lord, Torikas, and his neighbor, Vancel, decided he wanted to form his own country. He threw us in a cellar for being spies.” Kaoru sighs, shaking the dark memories away. “Not even a proper prison. He had a daughter that brought us food, but that was a pretty bad time.”

 

“…You’re old. I forget that, because Lord Rei is old, and so everyone else tends to be so much younger than _him._ ”

 

Kaoru blinks. “Did you not know? I’m old, sweetheart. As old as Rei, when he’s telling the truth about his age.”

 

“I knew,” Natsume grumpily says, without an ounce of real grumpiness. “I just forget. You act younger. Those kinds of numbers, also…it’s insane to think about. I can’t fathom how long you’ve been alive, let alone how long the previous Emperor has been. I’m twenty-four.”

 

 _And you act a lot younger._ Kaoru doesn’t say that, only traces gentle little patterns on Natsume’s back. “Am I going to wake up to you curled away from me tomorrow, because you don’t like to be close to old men?”

 

“Every man I know is old,” Natsume sleepily informs him, his eyes fluttering shut as he settles down into that touch, a quiet, pleased sound escaping before he can stop himself. “If I didn’t like it, I’d be in a loooot of trouble.”

 

“If you were mine, I’d make sure you…” Kaoru’s breath hitches, and his eyes flick up immediately, focusing on the ceiling. “Ooh, sorry. That’s a little forward. You’re not the only one saying things you shouldn’t tonight.”

 

“…except I am,” is Natsume’s eventual, quiet response as he goes still. “Because you stopped yourself.”

 

“Well, good. I’m older, like you said. I should have more self-control.”

 

“Mine’s not even about self-control! I’m just used to magic, a _lot_ of magic.”

 

“Just because you’re using magic as self-control…” Kaoru laughs, and wiggles his toes, stretching out and fighting a yawn. “I’ll show off my language skills for you in the morning. And you can tell me all about the totally normal dreams you had, like where you have to tell your tutor you aren’t prepared for the lesson, but you’ve forgotten your trousers. No matter how old I get, I still have that one.”

 

Natsume blinks slowly up at him, uncomprehending. “…Is that what ‘normal’ dreams are really like? I didn’t dream at all.” And he certainly doesn’t remember dreams he had when he was a child.

 

“Those are the really normal ones. Sometimes in them, I try to speak to a frog, but it bites my sister, and she swells up until she’s the size of a house.” Kaoru shrugs. “Dreams are weird. I don’t have them very often, maybe once or twice a year, that I can remember.”

 

“…Sounds stressful. And weird.” Natsume huddles back down, content to use Kaoru as his personal pillow for the near future. “Hopefully, I won’t have any of those, either.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Kaoru says softly, and tucks Natsume’s head under his chin. “If you do, I’ll protect you.”

 


	35. Chapter 35

 

Kaoru is just as, or perhaps more useful, than the Svalde guide.

 

The Svalde is still an essential locator tool, of course, but Kaoru, it turns out, translates just as quickly—or if not as quickly with some languages, much more pleasantly.

 

Natsume blames Wataru and Rei for instilling an embarrassing appreciation of men that can speak foreign languages. _Damn it._

 

After nearly three days of sleep, Natsume can’t even blame this nonsense on sleep deprivation. His hair, wrapped up into a knot, tied up, and pinned at the back of his neck, stays out of the way as he takes what feels like endless notes, quill scratching at the parchment in a monotone. “So he established the Academy fully _after_ being tossed into the Depths, crawling back, and becoming…something else. I didn’t expect that, but I suppose it accounts for him ‘changing’ into something else and…blooming into that, perhaps? If you can even call it blooming.” He props his chin into one hand. “That blurs the line of ‘god’ a bit more. I mean, Lord Kanata’s people worship _him_ as a god…”

 

“He’s definitely a special case,” Kaoru says, hunched over one of the texts. “He’s three-quarters, that’s a pretty unusual cross among their people. Ah, I think I might have messed up that last translation. Fuck, let me do that again. See the break notation, there? That means it’s meant to be sung, not spoken.”

 

“What kind of person takes notes like that? Who wants to sing what they’re reading?” Natsume incredulously asks, barely resisting the urge to throw his quill across the table. “Lord Kanata might be unusual, but there are other texts talking about Lord Rei as a god. Dragons are gods, as far as I’m concerned. Isn’t it all subjective?”

 

“Well, that depends on what you think of as a god,” Kaoru says, frowning as he leans back. “I think the ancient Yumeian belief states that a god is a creature that can create, but that’s so vague it’s totally unhelpful. The Paladin’s official code says that a god is a soul who always hears prayers said in its name, and may grant them, but again, there are so many different kinds of creatures in our world, it’s hard to…sorry, am I boring you?” he asks, assuming he’ll see a blank stare, and is mildly startled to see Natsume actually paying attention.

 

Natsume blinks, brow furrowing. “No. Does it look like I’m bored?” That’s irritating. Izumi told him, not too kindly, that he has ‘resting bitch face’ once before. Is that the problem here? “I can’t change what my face looks like, I’m paying attention,” he mutters. sitting back in his chair grumpily. “I like learning. And I don’t know anything about paladins, which is a problem, obviously. If I had known more, I would’ve seen this nonsense with the previous Emperor earlier, I bet.”

 

“If anyone would have, it’s you for sure,” Kaoru says, and tousles Natsume’s relaxed, pin-straight bangs, leaving the bound mess of the rest of his hair alone. “I just assumed, most people I talk to about this stuff get bored. Here, pay attention, you’ll see why you’re supposed to do it this way. Ah, this is embarrassing…”

 

He clears his throat, then goes through the text again, singing each line, leading them into each other. His voice reverberates in the library, fading away on the last note, and his cheeks turn slightly pink. “You see what I mean, the text gets changed. It’s not ‘sent to the Depths,’ like that, it’s ‘killed and found again in the Depths,’ and instead of ‘hiding,’ it’s closer to ‘recovering.’ It’s a hidden layering effect of the text. The monks invented it, when they were afraid their texts would be seized in the Color War.”

 

“Pretty,” Natsume mutters, his own face faintly pink before he shakes himself off, pushing his bangs back out of his face with a soft huff. “Ah, y-yes. I hear the difference.” He scratches out his previous note, rewriting it. “So…to recap. Seraphim, to human-resembling ‘paladin’, to what we consider the modern concept of a paladin, more or less. Then from there, to the Depths…reemerging as a wizard. He was gone long enough that he missed a full two generations of kings, and they didn’t recognize him when he returned. He reintroduced himself as a human wizard…and they just…believed him.” He shivers, setting his quill down to rub at his temples. “And handed him the chance to build the Academy, no questions asked. No wonder Lord Rei married you, he always says he never wants to be with people that can’t sing.” Pause. “Forget that last part.”

 

Kaoru laughs. “Does he say that? He’s always been sweet about my voice, but he’s never said anything like that to me. I don’t think I ever sang for him, before we got married.”

 

“I said forget it, why can’t you do what I tell you to do?” Natsume bemoans, burying his face down into his hands. “It really is awful being without magic. I can’t tell what’s spoken or thought, even now! But yes, Lord Rei talks about you _all the time_. Or maybe around you, is the better term for it? But it’s clearly you, even if he doesn’t say it by name.”

 

Kaoru’s smile fades slightly. “Unless he’s talking about Shu. They talk music a lot.”

 

“Nnn. I can tell the difference. He talks about Lord Shu, too, but…they’re odd.” Natsume’s eyes lid, and he glances aside, staring off into the huge expanse of library beyond. “They’re the reason I always ask before telling anyone _anything_ that I See…even if it’s something someone really would be better off knowing.”

 

“You didn’t make it happen.” Kaoru tucks his hair behind his ear, and selects another scroll. “It’s not your fault, either. Hey, did you go through this one? This is an account of someone who says they met someone they thought was Eichi, but it turned out to be someone…aw, shit, what’s that word? Let me try it in context.” His lips move, and he starts reciting, then singing softly, trying to capture the cadence of the syllables.

 

“It feels like my fault. Lord Rei…was obviously upset. Wataru thought it was funny, like I was the one to ‘catch’ Lord Rei and tie him down, once and for all…” Natsume trails off, distracted and glad, when those are the words he doesn’t want to be saying, anyway. For better or for worse, Kaoru is distracting in a different way, and Natsume finds himself staring, fingers drumming slowly against his cheek.

 

Kaoru puts down the scroll, and his eyes cloud. “You know I couldn’t touch him?” he asks suddenly. “At all. With most people, apparently, you can still touch people in a friendly way, in an affectionate way, just not in a sexual way. But with Rei, everything is sexual. And every time we tried to even talk, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself, and he’d just…his face would twist. There was this horrible disgust every time he got near me—not with me, with himself, but…”

 

Kaoru breaks off, shaking his head. “I don’t know why I’m laying all this on you. Sorry.”

 

“Ah…no, it’s fine.” It’s not, really. It makes him feel guilty in a way he hasn’t felt in a dozen years about this particular thing, when he finally understood what he had foretold, but this is part of it. People unload _quite_ a bit onto him, whether they mean to or not. It comes with the territory. “I know their bond…isn’t normal. It was never normal. Prophets don’t foretell every bond that pops up, after all.” Natsume shrugs a shoulder, picking at the hem of his sleeve before dropping it. “I remember when they finally were able to figure out how to magically block it, and feel…normal. They looked so excited, but also, like their feelings were hurt. Does that make sense?”

 

“Oh, yeah. That’s when I knew…” Kaoru rubs a hand over his face. “You don’t need to worry about that. Ah. Let me change the subject, this can’t be fun for you to talk about. And it’s absolutely not your fault. Anyway, that scroll, the context, I’ve got it. It’s ‘relation,’ like someone related to Eichi.”

 

That rings a bell, like a distant memory, Sight stifled or no. “That…means something, but I can’t Reach it right now,” Natsume crossly says, picking his quill back up. “But I do know he has offspring. Like, a lot of them. Arashi’s related to him.” He pauses, and adds, quietly, deliberately, “It’s not the first time I’ve heard someone needing to vent about Lord Rei and Lord Shu’s bond in particular. So…it’s fine.”

 

“Arashi?” Kaoru asks, because ranting about his relationship with Rei to a kid one-eighth his age doesn’t actually have much appeal, no matter how smart (and kind, and empathetic, and clever) that kid seems to be. “Hm, I don’t know too much about him, only that he’s been…well, dead, a couple of times, but the Wavebred magic seems to bring him back. Could it be him, do you think?”

 

“Not this far back. He’s barely older than me, and that’s real. He’s…like five percent whatever the previous Emperor is, or something insanely small like that. Maybe with a dash of ogre or something odd; just enough to make him strong. Mika wouldn’t waste his time if there was truly something amiss there, he _hates_ the previous Emperor…probably more than anyone. More than me, maybe.” Natsume hesitates, thinking. “I think it might be one of the archdemons brought back with him. I have nothing to support that, it’s complete guesswork, but I’ve never heard of any _other_ archdemons capable of coming to this realm.”

 

“You say ‘one of the other archdemons’ like that’s really what he is,” Kaoru says softly, looking down at the paper like it’s betrayed him by telling the truth. “Oh. I’m stupid, I’m stupid, I know that word, it’s ‘son.’ This woman met Eichi’s son, she says…hold on, she’s referencing another scroll, she’s drawn a picture of him there, can you find A93b6?”

 

“Sorry, I’m used to referring to him as an archdemon at this point,” Natsume sighs, climbing to his feet to better lean over the other half of the table, rummaging through the veritable stack left there for them to go through. “Why can’t these people just keep everything together in one place? This happens with spellbooks all the time, too—‘to continue, reference my twentieth attempt at this spell in the fourth volume of my exploits with herbal explosions’, or I could just go fuck myself. Ah, here it is.” He brushes off the fine layer of dust, unraveling the twine before passing it over.

 

Kaoru holds his breath, carefully unwraps the twine from the scroll, and unrolls it.

 

Then he grimaces. “Damn. There wasn’t a notation that she was an especially good artist. I see why. I’m hungry, you want a break?” he asks, tossing the scroll face-up onto the table, revealing a rather rudimentary sketch of what’s probably a man-shaped creature, with long, flowing hair his only defining characteristic.

 

_Long silver hair, almost like a drake’s, but not quite._

 

Natsume stares, transfixed, before his stomach gives an unsettled, anxious roll. “…I’m not hungry,” he faintly says, sitting back down with an echoing _thump_. “I’ve Seen him.”

 

“Seen? or Seen?” Kaoru asks, suddenly interested again, peering at Natsume. “Bad vision? Or something that really happened?”

 

“Seen. Bad vision.” Natsume swallows, forcing himself to pull it together enough to reach over and roll the scroll up, uninterested in the crude drawing staring back at him mockingly any longer. “In the North, he has Sorrow’s Heart. Nagisa. That’s his name.”

 

Kaoru’s eyes brighten. “You already know who he is? I bet they have archives in here about him, now that you know his name. Ah, good job!” Without thinking, he grabs Natsume and presses a kiss to his cheek, beaming, then suddenly flushes bright pink, looking away. “I mean, that’s good, your visions are really useful.”

 

Being suddenly, surprisingly kissed—even just on the cheek—is shocking enough to abruptly throw Natsume out of the loop his mind wanders towards, filled with the bits and pieces of a vision he dreads. “T…thanks,” he manages, rubbing self-consciously at his cheek, his own face flushed. “I should hope so, because Seeing them and being a prophet is terrible. Um. I would’ve mentioned him before, but I didn’t know he was the previous Emperor’s son…”

 

Kaoru stands, nodding. “I’ll ask the librarian, they might have him listed under a different section. It looks like most really old creatures in here are at least cross-referenced, and that last notation was from what, eight hundred years ago?”

 

“Mmhm. He didn’t show up before that.” Natsume rakes a hand back through his bangs. “Seeing him makes my skin crawl…in the same way the previous Emperor does.”

 

“Really?” Kaoru frowns. “I kinda hate to admit it, but the previous Emperor…I always liked him. In a personal way. He’s friendly, and knowledgeable. Like, I knew he was bad news, obviously, I’m not stupid, and I’ve fought against him, but on a personal level?”

 

Natsume glances up at him, staring for a moment before he shakes his head, leaning back into his chair. “The first thing Lord Rei ever said to Wataru after introducing me was, ‘I was hoping you would understand why he shouldn’t be placed into the Academy.’ Because he knew— _they_ knew, even Wataru, who was the previous Emperor’s so-called left hand—far more than he wanted to tell a nine year old.” His mouth twists. “The only things the previous Emperor has ever said to me is that he ‘wants to put me in a cage and only feed me enough for visions to keep happening’, and that I’m a whore prophet. Or a slut prophet, depending on the day. He’s made it very clear I have one use to him, outside of being dead.”

 

Pain flares in Kaoru’s hand, and he looks down, startled to see that he’s clenched his fist so tightly his nails have sunk into his palm. He shakes it out, annoyed with himself. “That’s never going to happen. Ah…maybe it has to do with what we read earlier, about his first run-ins with the dragons. And if he’s the founder of my order, it would kind of make sense that he’d show me his best self, I guess?”

 

“Of course. He also wants to eat you,” Natsume mildly says, folding his arms across his chest, feeling oddly naked in nothing but a blouse, having forgone his corset for ease of movement while scurrying up and down ladders. “I’m sure it has everything to do with dragons. His conflict with them is why anyone from the Isles refuses to come to the Mainland, even today. Ugh—you didn’t read through all the crap he started a thousand years ago—and now he buys into his own nonsense, obviously,” he mutters, grabbing for his notes. “Prophets were never numerous, but Islanders with precognition of some kind are, and that was considered ‘enough’ to call them a prophet back then. One of the earliest kings was obsessed with the future and how he’d die, the usual—the previous Emperor told him if he married a prophet and made her bear his child, she’d See only for him for the rest of her life.” Natsume waves a strand of his red hair. “So that caught on pretty fast with the royals, even though it’s bullshit.”

 

“Oh, shit, I know that legend,” Kaoru says slowly, eyes widening. “I never applied it to you, somehow. All the prophets in the stories are women. They used to believe that when I was a kid, they said the old king had a prophet wife, and that’s why all the royal kids have red hair. The old king back then…ah, that would have been Rouan, the Tall. He died before I was born, but everyone still talked about him. Leo’s…shit. Great, great, great, great…I forget how many.”

 

“Mmhm. That’s why the royals are obsessed with their kids all having red hair. They call it a blessing, Islanders call it enslavement and rape, but to each their own,” Natsume deadpans. “Small wonder we don’t have marriage on the Isles, hmm?”

 

“Small wonder,” Kaoru echoes, agreeing. “Is…never mind. I’ll find the librarian.”

 

“Don’t start sentences and don’t finish them, I can’t read your mind here,” Natsume half-heartedly complains, slumping forward over the table.

 

“Yeah,” Kaoru says, grinning. “You can’t. See, when I don’t say something out loud, it’s because I’ve decided you don’t get to hear it.”

 

“Don’t like it. I’ll pick through your brain later, you can’t escape.”

 

“Sweetheart, if I wanted you out, there’s no way you could get in,” Kaoru says with a laugh. “You think we don’t train ourselves to ward out mindreaders?”

 

“I’m not a ‘mindreader.’ Go find the librarian so we can read about some other, old creepy archdemon that hates us.”

 

Half an hour later, the librarian summoned, the indexes consulted, Kaoru returns with two small scrolls and a single old book, setting them gingerly down. “He’s showed up in the chronicles, but only rarely. This is all we’ve got to work with.”

 

“That’s it? For all the trouble he’s causing now, you’d think…” Natsume exhales, thumbingopen one of the scrolls and making a face. “And there’s barely anything written here, for that matter. Looks like a family tree, and a very…uh, questionable one. I think the previous Emperor had a child with his own daughter, who was also related…to the crown? Oh, gross, on a few levels.”

 

“Ew,” Kaoru mutters, leaning over to peer over Natsume’s shoulder. “Huh. Yep. Wow. Ew. I know demons don’t think of things the same way, though—Rei and his brother were supposed to get married, ask that story only if you have time to listen to him cry—but it’s still so gross.”

 

“I wonder if Leo would still think the previous Emperor was so wonderful if he knew he created some unholy thing with one of _his_ relatives,” Natsume mutters, tapping his quill against his lips before he tilts his head back, looking up at Kaoru. “I knew about that with Lord Rei, Ritsu cried about it when I pointed out his bond was fake. But involving humans…gross. At least we know this son of his isn’t a pureblooded anything.”

 

“I can’t read what it says here,” Kaoru says, pointing at a blurry name on the family tree. “The woman he first made his daughter with. Then, obviously, he’s the father again, so there’s no one else, but…do we know what she was? I assume it was a woman, but lately I question everything.”

 

“…When they don’t list it on records like these, that means she was from the Isles. If you compare the name on the royal tree—“ Natsume leans across the table, dragging over an enormous, wide book that he flips open towards the middle to reveal the full, complete royal family tree. “It’s the same. She was the queen. So their daughter, the one he had a child with again…was illegitimate, passed off as a princess. She had red hair, so it was ‘fine’, obviously.”

 

“Is that why some of the men wear dresses?” Kaoru asks, eyes wide. “To confuse people who try to carry off their women against their will?”

 

“Oh—ah…no,” Natsume says, startled into a laugh in spite of himself. “No, no, there’s another reason. It’s bad luck to have boys involved in rituals and seances, so to protect them, they dress as girls. If they start showing any sort of skill as a seer, they keep wearing women’s clothing, and if it continues past the age of fourteen, they’re expected to dress that way for the rest of their life to appease the gods. It’s rare for men to have abilities as a seer, so…it’s a sort of ‘thank you, for giving me this skill meant for women.’”

 

“You’re thanking the gods by dressing that way?” Kaoru asks, amused. “It feels more like a gift for the men you meet, but I suppose I’ll just thank your gods.”

 

“You—ugh. You’re such a pervert,” Natsume grouses, reaching back to half-heartedly smack the side of Kaoru’s head. “There are several big, muscle-y, _hairy_ men that wear dresses in the Isles. I guess I know what you like now.”

 

Kaoru ducks too late, and pulls the next scroll out, unrolling it on the table. “Give me a razor and a ladder, I’m not afraid. Right, let’s take a look at—damn, my Skrisetaen is so rusty, bear with me. Of course it would be those weirdoes.”

 

“You’re lucky I think it’s attractive when you speak other languages,” is Natsume’s grumpy little complaint. “Otherwise…”

 

“Otherwise?” Kaoru teases. “You’re actually going to hate this, I’m bad at it. Ah, if only Souma were here, he definitely still speaks some, you can just tell.”

 

“He was too much. A good boy, but too much. Go on, then, let’s hear your ‘actually bad at it.’ You deserve to fail a bit.”

 

“Thanks, that’s great for my ego.” Kaoru reads through once, then clears his throat, and starts stumbling through the text. He misses about one in five words, then has to go back and fix them, making mental notations each time he stumbles. Finally he comes to the end, and makes a face. “It’s so syllabistic, I’d love to give them some vowels to play with. Did you catch any of that? I know they used to speak Skrisetaen in the Isles.”

 

Natsume, chin in hand, quill in the other, doesn’t pause in his note-taking, even as he obviously is trying not to laugh. “Yeah. They still do.”

 

Kaoru very deliberately dips his fingertip in the inkwell, then dabs a dot of black swiftly on Natsume’s nose.

 

Natsume shrieks, swatting Kaoru away too late and scowling up at him, now sporting a black streak of ink instead of a dot. “I’m going to stab you with this quill,” he threatens, brandishing it rather like a kitchen knife. “This ink _stains_!”

 

“You tricked me into sounding like an idiot!” Kaoru protests, and grabs Natsume’s wrist, holding it still, their faces close together. “Fair’s fair. I sounded like one. You look silly.”

 

“It’s not a trick if you already are one,” Natsume smugly says, his other hand firmly on his hip. “My looking silly is a temporary thing.”

 

Kaoru shoves the scroll in front of Natsume. “Let’s hear you read it, then.”

 

“Fine. Let me go, and I’ll let you hear what dragons are supposed to sound like.”

 

Kaoru’s fingers tighten for a moment, as if reluctant to let go. Finally he pulls back, and folds his arms over his chest. “All right, impress me.”

 

Natsume drops back into his chair with a flounce, smoothing his skirts before he unrolls the scroll again, and starts from the beginning.

 

A proper, careful reading of Skrisetaen should sound like an incantation, and in this case, Natsume would wager that this _is_ one. For _what_ is questionable, like most old, old spells that are deliberately vague and might summon some strange creature. “…we grow up hearing this,” he simply says, glancing back up to Kaoru as he sits back, looking up at him. “Mainlanders don’t stand a chance, heh.”

 

“That…was so incredibly ominous-sounding,” Kaoru says, sounding awed. “I feel like a dark cloud is about to engulf me out of the ground, that was awesome.”

 

“Thank you. If there was magic in this place, I bet it would. That wasn’t very paladin-like of you to say that, though.”

 

“I’m a very bad paladin,” Kaoru reminds him, for what feels like the thousandth time. “For one thing, it’s probably bad that hearing you do that was totally arousing. Right, so, what does it mean?”

 

“I—“ Natsume’s composure is lost in a second, and he looks away as he flushes, scrubbing at the ink on his nose. “You need to stop saying that kind of thing, or else,” he mutters underneath his breath. “And it means…nonsense, like most spells. I think it’s a summoning…like to raise him from the Depths. A shortcut to bring him here, which is truly horrifying no matter how you think about it.”

 

“The weirdest thing,” Kaoru muses, breaking the spell of staring at Natsume as he looks down at the scrolls, “is that this is the first time his name was ever mentioned, that I can find or that they’ve recorded. No legends, no stories, no songs, just a summoning spell, and later, an explanatory family tree saying Eichi fucked the queen. How would anyone know to summon a demon they’d never heard of?”

 

“The previous Emperor heard of him.” Natsume drops his hand, leaving the streak of ink that looks rather like a cat’s whisker alone. “But then…hid him? So that means this archdemon is likely his successor. Or at the very least, his backup plan, on the off-chance he was ever tossed into the Depths again…like he was eight years ago.”

 

“Getting out of the Depths is supposed to be really….really difficult,” Kaoru muses, tapping the end of the quill against his lips. “And it’s supposed to require help from within and without, from what I know. Even for something as powerful as Eichi, he still needed old clothes he’d left behind. So if he also had this Nagisa guy kinda launch him out, he’d need that. But what does that mean? What now?”

 

“I don’t know,” Natsume admits after a long pause. “All I know is what I’ve Seen so far, coupled with this…and what we can guess about the previous Emperor.” He grimaces as he slouches back into his chair. “None of which is good, when combined…”

 

“But we don’t know what this Nagisa wants. We don’t even know what he’s like. What did you see about him, in your dream?” Kaoru scoots a little closer. “Anything about that?”

 

“Cold. His hands—they’re freezing.”

 

_Cold, not warm when they should be, and black talons—_

 

“No—sorry. Those were Wataru’s. It was…very disorienting,” Natsume murmurs, trying not to simply refuse to talk about the dream again. Being a coward is certainly easier. “‘I’ll close the gate again, just like last time, and all of you can stay.’ That’s what the previous Emperor said. But…only if Nagisa gave the sword back, and he refused, as if he thought it was his now.” Natsume sucks in a breath, glancing aside as he realizes something. “The dream flipped it around. Visions aren’t always chronological while sleeping. The previous Emperor convinced him to hand Sorrow’s Heart back with a trade.”

 

“That sword helped to create the realm, according to legends,” Kaoru says slowly, trying to put the pieces together in his mind. “When I touched it, when I was young, I thought I could see the whole realm at once, like I had the power to do anything. The feeling stayed with me for a week afterwards. What was the trade, in your dream?”

 

“Me.”

 

Natsume’s hand comes to his mouth, fingers drumming against his lips for a moment. Then, steeling himself, swallowing hard, he shoots up out of his chair, reaching across the table to rummage through the stacks of books they’ve acquired. “Maybe—if we do something about the sword…”

 

“Natsume.”

 

Kaoru reaches out a hand, and catches Natsume’s hand across the table, feeling the unfamiliar name in his mouth sound more right than he’d expected. “I don’t care what you Saw. I’m not letting anyone trade you to a demon.”

 

“I know you think I’m a child,” Natsume abruptly snaps, emotions fraying when Kaoru actually calls him by name, “but my being a prophet is real regardless. I _Saw it_. That means it will happen.” He makes to yank his hand away, then stops, his fingers trembling as they curl into a fist underneath Kaoru’s grasp. “I Saw Wataru lead me by the hand, straight to Eichi. I Saw the look on his shitty face, like he couldn’t _believe_ I was really that stupid. I Saw—“ His voice breaks, and he swallows again before sucking in a slow breath. “‘Hand him to me,’” he dully quotes. “‘Don’t worry, he’s all yours, I only have one thing I need from him, just like I said _.’_ And then Wataru held me down, and Eichi raped me, because that’s what you do to prophets to make their magic yours, according to him. I’m sure Nagisa does, too, but I woke up.”

 

Kaoru has never felt exactly like a weight has dropped into his stomach so much as he does now. He sits heavily without meaning to, letting go of Natsume’s hand. “You’ve been doing all of this knowing that’s going to happen,” he says flatly. “Not just believing, not just seeing bits and pieces, but _knowing_?”

 

Natsume forcibly resists the urge to grab back for Kaoru’s hand, his fingers curling a little more as he slumps back. “What else am I supposed to do?” he finally, quietly asks. “What happens to me is less important than the realm. The research I’m doing here is so I can head North, and pass it off onto Lord Rei, one way or another. He needs to know all of this, because he’s going in blind to fight that thing. I wish you hadn’t stopped holding my hand.” He pauses, and his face twists, stressed and tired and _done._ “Shit, I _hate_ this place.”

 

Kaoru makes the quiet decision, right then and there, that he’s going to have the Svalde confine Natsume within these walls until the fight is over. He doesn’t let his face change, long years of keeping secrets from Rei coming in handy now, and he simply nods, pulling over the last book. “Then let’s make sure you have plenty of information to be helpful with. Between the two of us, we should be able to find something.”

 

“You can’t change it.” Natsume stares back over at him, eyes half-lidded. “You’ve got a great ‘I’m resigned to what you’re saying so I’ll support you’ face, and I bet that works really well on Lord Rei, but he’s not a prophet. All you have to do with him is change his mind, and that changes the outcome…or so you think. ‘Outcomes’ are already predetermined. Trying to change the outcome of what true prophets See never works…and this is why I was keeping my mouth shut.”

 

“You think I’m going to let you walk in to something like that?” Kaoru asks, voice a little strangled. “You don’t know me that well, but that’s…it’s just not going to happen. I’m sorry, I’m not trying to infantilize you at all, it’s just, it’s just not going to happen. I wouldn’t let anyone besides a paladin do that.”

 

“You’re not listening to me. You can’t change it—not you, an apparently shitty paladin, or Lord Rei, or a god—that’s how prophecy _works_.” Natsume exhales a frustrated breath and shoves away from the table, climbing to his feet. “Do you think I _want_ that to happen? Trust me, my ideal plans do not include going up North, being betrayed by the man I’ve been with for years, and being traded to a demon!”

 

Kaoru tastes bile, and looks away, guilt on his face. “Sorry. That’s not what I meant. I—look, the first time my father told me that my destiny was to die so a human could live, I was four years old. It’s what we’re used to. I just—when I see someone that should have a beautiful, fulfilling, long life getting cut short, I feel like a failure. Especially when it’s someone I…think I really like.”

 

“You’re kind of a piece of shit,” is Natsume’s immediate, blunt response. “My visions didn’t show my death. You’re just assuming I’m pathetic enough to die— _and_ that you’re too shitty of a paladin to help, or that Lord Rei won’t be involved, or—any other number of factors! If you liked me, you’d figure it out!”

 

“I—“ Kaoru cuts himself off, blinking. “Fuck. This is bullshit, I’m not giving in, but you’re right.” He offers his hand. “I’m with you. I’ll do whatever I can to stop it, but more than that, I’ll do whatever I can to stop them.”

 

Natsume wavers, lower lip trembling as he looks down at Kaoru’s hand, then back up to his face. “If you’re just saying that again, I’m going to be really mad,” he threatens, even though his voice is small. He reaches out, fingers curling through Kaoru’s. “I’m not a demon. I don’t think it’s a fun puzzle when I’m lied to.”

 

Kaoru’s smile is crooked, and he leans down, pressing a kiss to Natsume’s cool fingers. “I respect you as an adult, and as a warrior,” he says quietly. “I’d be happy to die if it meant you got to live. But I can only make choices for myself. So let’s figure something out together, and send these bastards back into the Abyss.”

 

“It pisses me off that you’re attractive when you act all…chivalrous.” That’s definitely not a statement that was meant to be spoken. Natsume exhales a frustrated little huff.

 

Kaoru grins. “Was that meant to be silent?”

 

“Shut up.”

 


	36. Chapter 36

 

Kaoru doesn’t dream.

 

He does wake up with the conviction that he’s dreamed, sometimes, with fading wisps of memory clinging to him, the confused certainty that he’d been very sad, or with his heart still thrumming as if he’s been in danger. He wakes the next morning with his jaw clenched so tightly it aches, arms clamped tightly around Natsume’s huddled form against his chest.

 

Natsume is twitching, face furrowed like a dog dreaming of chasing rabbits, and Kaoru has to have a stern talk with himself before he does something stupid.

 

 _He’s in a very happy relationship,_ he scolds himself. _Even if he thinks he’s seen something, that’s no guarantee that it’s right, no matter what he thinks, and even if it is, that’s hardly the time to be disgusting. If you both live through this…maybe, maybe in a few years, he’ll fall out with his lover, and maybe we’ll meet again._

 

That kind of logic has worked on him in the past, when he’s found himself infatuated with someone that shouldn’t be his.

 

He can’t for the life of him figure out why it sounds so hollow and lonely now.

 

Natsume’s face is close, so close that Kaoru feels his heart thudding, and he carefully lets his arms go, easing himself up from the shared mattress to pad across the chilly floor in stockinged feet, splashing his face with water so cold there’s ice riming the edge of the ewer. _Get it together. You might be a poor excuse of a paladin, but that doesn’t change your duty._

 

It only takes a few seconds for the room’s chill to creep in, and Natsume shivers until he wakes, blinking blearily about even as he moves into the warm blankets Kaoru left behind.

 

“Cold,” he unhappily mutters, slithering flat onto his stomach with another huff before sitting up, swaddled in blankets, and looking about. “Kaoru. That’s rude, I can’t believe you’d leave a kitten to freeze. Nhh, what time is it, anyway…”

 

“Way past dawn, we slept late again,” Kaoru says ruefully, raking a hand back through his tousled hair. “What’s this about a kitten?”

 

“It’s because there’s no light in here, this is the worst.” Natsume shivers again, unmoving from the bed. His hair sticks out at weird angles, curling in some places, confused and straight in others. “Me, I’m the kitten. The kitten is me.”

 

“I mean, it’s definitely a cute nickname,” Kaoru allows, sitting back down on the bed, resisting the urge (managing it, yes, he can do this, he can have ethics) to tousle Natsume’s hair. “Who gave it to you? I thought you were a dragon.”

 

Instantly, Natsume plasters up against Kaoru again, seeking that warmth like a moth to a flame. “Lord Rei,” he wryly admits after a sleepy moment of consideration. “He used to call me ‘little cat.’ It stuck.”

 

“That’s cute.” Kaoru puts an arm around Natsume, reminding himself that he’d do the same for anyone who was cold and cuddling up for warmth. “I’ll ask the Svalde if we can get some more furs in here to keep out the cold, maybe on the floor. If you came to my ancestral holdings, you’d…well, you’d hate it, but you’d love the tapestries.”

 

“Are they spooky? Covered in the stories of old, with fire and death and weird creatures being murdered?”

 

“The ones on the second floor, yeah, door to door. There’s a gorgeous one of a dragon eating someone, too.”

 

“Excellent.” Natsume stuffs his face into Kaoru’s shoulder. “Though historically,” he says, “dragons don’t eat people. Just livestock, and demons. The former is why so many humans found them troublesome…”

 

He trails off, eyes rolling back before he slithers down Kaoru flat onto the bed, limp as a rag.

 

Kaoru’s eyes open wide, and he grabs Natsume by the shoulders, squeezing and shaking him gently. “Natsume? Natsume! What’s wrong?” He forgets his skills, forgets that he’s a paladin, just grabs on, as if he can do something just with the heat of his body.

 

It’s a solid fifteen seconds before Natsume’s eyes flutter open again, his face pale. “Oh. No, didn’t like that. Uuugh, I have the _worst_ headache all of a sudden.” He slowly tries to stretch out onto the bed, shivering from head to toe. “I wondered if this would start happening. It’s not like they can take my magic away here; all they can do is block it. Fancily, but still, just a block.”

 

“What the hell was that?” Kaoru demands, and tries to tell his body to calm down, when his heart keeps trying to race out of his chest. “Why did that happen? What was it? Are you all right?”

 

“Shhh. Head hurty.” Natsume pulls over a pillow, exhaling a long, slow breath as he coils up around it. “Magic surge attempt. Or big vision being blocked? Maybe? I don’t think wizards are supposed to be bottled up like this…or at least…not Nightcloaks. I thought that might happen.”

 

Kaoru slowly releases Natsume’s shoulders, sitting back on the bed, trying to catch his breath. “I thought you were dying,” he whispers, though he can hardly explain, even to himself, why it feels as if his heart is trying to explode out of his chest. “Don’t scare me like that. Why would magic do that?”

 

“Magic doesn’t like being cooped up. It’s why Lord Rei and Lord Shu sometimes just have to lift the blockers on their bond and let it run havoc over them…it’s not meant to be suppressed.” Natsume inhales slowly, sitting up again after another moment. He looks up at Kaoru, blinking slowly. “I’m really okay. I mean…it hurt, but I’m fine.” He reaches out a hand unthinkingly, touching Kaoru’s cheek. “You look so worried.”

 

Kaoru grabs Natsume’s hand, forgetting anything but how much better it is to feel Natsume’s hand warm in his hand, his pulse still beating. “Yeah, well…” His mind searches desperately for a way to make it funny. “Your vision hasn’t come true yet, and if they always do, I was afraid we were on the verge of an apocalypse.”

 

“I haven’t Seen anything about the world ending,” Natsume wryly says, curling his fingers slowly. “Just bad things happening. I am sort of dreading leaving; I don’t know what my Sight will do once I step out of here.”

 

“Can you explain it to me?” Kaoru asks gently, rubbing his thumb against the back of Natsume’s hand. “You’re better at explaining magic stuff than anyone I’ve talked to. You made magic seem like it can be completely controlled by humans, but now it sounds like a snog you have on a delicate leash.”

 

“Oh…heh. I mean—magic absolutely can be completely controlled by humans. This place…” Natsume tilts his head back, looking up at the stone ceiling. “It’s unnatural. It’s like trying to train a horse to walk on two legs. That’s not right, why would you try? It’s much more effective for it to walk on four, too!” He sighs, his hand dropping, grip switching to keep hold of Kaoru’s. “Suppressing magic—that’s not right. _Training_ it to work correctly is. There’s a fine line, and this place crosses it.”

 

Kaoru sighs. “It’s probably a combination of stuff, their reason for doing it. They have a lot of dangerous incarnations written in those books, I’m glad to know I can read things out loud and not summon anything by accident. And it probably encourages powerful people to leave quickly. And it keeps them hidden, too.”

 

“Mm. I’m not disagreeing with the reasons why they’re doing it, just…that it’s unnatural. And uncomfortable,” Natsume crossly says. “I’ll probably die if I stay here too long.”

 

“Honestly, we’ll all probably die if you and I stay here too long,” Kaoru says with a lopsided grin. He stands, and tugs Natsume’s hand. “So let’s go do our best, and leave as soon as we can.”

 

“I’d love to go somewhere warm again,” Natsume sighs, sliding out of the bed, taking a step, and collapsing directly into Kaoru’s chest when his legs buckle. “Ngggh. Sorry. Wobbly.”

 

Kaoru sucks in a breath, and chides himself mentally. There’s nothing exceptionally arousing about this one cute little prophet, he scolds himself. He’s cute, sure, but Kaoru’s bedded cute men and women for the best part of two centuries without getting all weak in the knees about them. There’s no reason for the way his voice turns gentle when he puts an arm around Natsume, holding him firmly against his side. “Let’s see how much we can do today, then. Then we’ll get out of here, and do some real damage where it hurts them.”

 

Natsume nods, steadying himself against Kaoru’s side while clutching at his sleeve. “You smell good,” he murmurs distractedly. “Even when we haven’t had a proper bath in days. How?”

 

“Oh, all the pure holy living,” Kaoru jokes, even as his face heats up. The tension between them builds, when Natsume is close ( _so close, he’d be so easy to kiss, I wonder if he tastes like fire_ ) and warm and—

 

Kaoru breaks away, pulling himself free of Natsume, his face so hot he can feel his own pulse beating in it. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, turning away to face the wall. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I’m not…this isn’t going to work.”

 

Natsume stumbles, catching himself with a hand against the side of the bed for a moment. The sudden, startling absence of Kaoru touching him makes him starkly aware of something—for the past couple of days, they _really_ haven’t stopped being in contact.

 

That’s weird. That’s _weird_ , that he craves it so much. Isn’t it?

 

He’s usually clingy, and knows this about himself—with people he likes. Kaoru…he likes Kaoru, Rei would tease him about having a crush on him, probably, but sitting down to think about it—

 

“Sorry.” His voice is small. “I didn’t mean…you don’t have to…I’m not trying to do anything…”

 

“No, it’s my fault.” Kaoru’s voice is flat, his eyes dark as he forces them away from Natsume’s (hurt) face. “I’m…I don’t have a good way to say this without making it sound like I’m blaming you for being…what you are. I know it’s awful to say I can’t control myself, I just…” He takes in a breath, annoyed at himself when it stutters. “It feels too natural, with you. It makes me want more than I can have, and I’m not going to…put you in that kind of position.”

 

“You asked me,” Natsume abruptly blurts out, hugging himself underneath the weight of his blanket, “before we came here. You asked if you could kiss me.”

 

“Yeah.” Kaoru sucks in a breath, then forces himself to let it out. “But that’s not all I want to do anymore. If that was it, I’d just…I mean, sorry, but honestly, I’d just shove you up against that wall.”

 

“You can.”

 

“But that’s not what I want.” Kaoru’s instincts protest, and he has to clarify, “Not just that. And you’re with someone. Happily, as far as I know.”

 

Natsume opens his mouth, then closes it again, looking away before he slumps back down onto the edge of the bed. Guilt and stress and confusion flicker over his face in equal amounts, his hands bunching up into his skirts. “It’s hard to be happy about that when I know he betrays me,” he finally says, his voice shaking. “And—and it’s harder still when even being near a human feels…I…I don’t know. It’s not guesswork. It’s not…the constant worry of him eating me, even.” Natsume laughs, the sound wet. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to make you, or convince you…”

 

“…You don’t have to.” Kaoru hears the bitterness in his own voice, and grimaces. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean…I didn’t mean to talk about it like you’re his possession. I just don’t know how I could handle it if I let myself really feel strongly about you, and then you were gone.” _Too late, you ass,_ his brain cheerfully tells him.

 

Natsume breathes in deep, lifting his face to stare up at Kaoru. Helplessly unfiltered, he says: “I don’t know where you think I’d be going.”

 

Kaoru looks over, just as helpless, just as absolutely floundering despite all his years of experience. “I…don’t even know what I’m trying to ask for. I just know I like everything better when you’re around me. And you’re kind, and bright, and clever, and patient, and tenacious, and brave, and so cute you make me want to curl around you all the time, which is just…not my type at all.”

 

“You’re like the two kinds of guys I like squished into a weird blob,” Natsume mumbles, squishing up a bit of blanket as if in demonstration. “The sexy-old-powerful guys that know everything, plus the…the dumb sword-wielding types. N-not that I think you’re dumb, you’re not, I…” He lifts a hand, then helplessly lets it flop down. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I have a headache and this is scary and you’re not and I don’t know what to do?” His lower lip trembles. “Can you just…go back to touching me? Please?”

 

_How the fuck do I say no to that?_

 

He doesn’t.

 

“This,” Kaoru informs Natsume, pulling him close onto his lap, relaxing immediately as they touch, “is why I’m a shitty paladin, and I won’t let you forget it. I have no impulse control when it comes to the things I feel passionately about.”

 

“It’s not impulse control if someone’s asking you,” Natsume mumbles, stuffing his face into Kaoru’s neck as he burrows against him, feeling a large source of tension melting away almost immediately. “You also can’t be that shitty if they let you in here.”

 

“No? They let you in, and you’re not a paladin at all,” Kaoru points out. “Maybe they think I’m funny.”

 

“I’m a very impressive Nightcloak. That’s why I’m here.” A very impressive Nightcloak that is currently making a home out of Kaoru’s lap.

 

“Hmm. Then if I’m an acceptable paladin…there’s only one problem.”

 

“What’s that?” Natsume murmurs, his arms a coil around Kaoru’s neck to insure he stays put.

 

“Well, this awfully cute, very impressive Nightcloak told me that if I used my power in the North, I’d only be a target, and no help to anyone.”

 

“Mm…mmhm. If you were trying to go there and be a paladin, that’s the case,” Natsume says, remembering the vision as if it had just happened. “Maybe it just means not to try and throw yourself on the gate or whatever. I also said if you went North, you’d find your true king.”

 

“Yeah, and I still have no idea what that means,” Kaoru complains, threading his fingers through Natsume’s hair in a slow, soothing motion.

 

“Probably not political or literal. It’s usually a metaphor, like with tarot.” Natsume’s eyes lid, his head dropping against Kaoru’s shoulder. “I was trying to do a tarot reading when you walked in that first time.” He’s just accepted he’s going to think aloud in his awful place, no matter how he tries not to.

 

Kaoru sighs, and starts to unwind from the bed, though he strategically manages not to let go of Natsume while he stands. “As much as I honestly love talking about myself, and what you think of me…we’d better get to reading. You feel it, don’t you? Pressing in?”

 

Natsume dangles from Kaoru’s shoulders for a moment before he forces to make his feet touch the ground. “Yes.” He shivers, then releases Kaoru, grabbing his cloak to bundle himself up as he quietly says, “As much as I want to leave and help…I don’t. I’m scared, Kaoru. The idea that someone could lie to me and I believed it and…” He swallows, glancing away. “I really am stupid. This is why creatures eat humans.”

 

Kaoru turns, his eyes blazing hot for a minute, lifting Natsume from the ground to look into his eyes. “No,” he says, voice low, powerful, absolutely certain. “Never, never think that they prey on us because we’re weak, or stupid, or deserve it. They do it because they are predators. Every single person who dies by their appetites is a fucking tragedy, and I will die in a way that contributes to ending it. Do you understand?”

 

Natsume’s lower lip trembles before he nods firmly, sucks in a breath, and quietly points out, “So you _can_ pick me up.”

 

Kaoru stares at him for a moment, then slowly lowers Natsume to the ground, his ears pink. “You are heavier than you look,” he admits. “But I’m also stronger than I look. Not Rei-strong, but…”

 

Natsume’s own face is flushed, and he yanks his cloak tight about himself. “L-let’s—let’s just get to work,” he manages. “We need to find those books about drude, we’ve been neglecting that part of the equation.”

 

“Divide and conquer?” Kaoru suggests. “I’ll read about Drude, they’re more likely to be in Ancient Yumeian anyway. You tackle the diary.”

 

Natsume makes a face. “Because I just looove old, dry texts where men talk about how cool they are,” he grouses. “But yes, that works. The sooner we’re done here…” _The better_ isn’t how he’d finish that phrase, but whatever.

 

_The sooner we go back into the real world._

 

_The sooner I stop spending every moment with you._

 

_The sooner we part ways._

 

Kaoru forces a smile. “Yeah. The sooner the better, right? Let’s go be useful.”

 


	37. Chapter 37

 

“You have a look on your face.”

  


Kaoru scowls, and quickly shuts the book he’d been reading, pushing it away from where Natsume sits, next to him with their knees touching. Information pulses in his mind, heavy at the back of his tongue. “You don’t get to know everything just because you think you should,” he says mildly. “But I think I know how to kill a drude now, so that’s good.”

  


“Then why did you look so…” Natsume squints at him. “Almost sad? It’s that look you get when you don’t want to tell me something, specifically. You’re not throwing yourself on a drude to kill it unless that’s the only option.”

  


“No, no, there are easier ways,” Kaoru assures him. “For one thing, that sword would do it. Or my sword, technically. A paladin’s sword, wielded by its true owner, so my sword in my hand, or Sorrow’s Heart in Eichi’s. Did you see there’s a legend that he could change his sword into a dagger for his purposes, and back again? I can’t even begin to imagine how that would work. Fascinating.”

  


“That’s…really easy, actually? And he probably wants his sword back so badly because of that.” Natsume pauses, mulling that over, then looks back at Kaoru again. “So why the face?” 

  


Kaoru folds his hands on the table, chewing on his lip. “I found something out that I don’t think is relevant, and knowing it would only make you feel bad. So I don’t want to tell you, because it won’t help, and everything is already…kind of heavy without that.”

  


“But now you’ve made that face, so you have to tell me. That’s how this works.” Natsume props his chin into one hand. “it might be relevant, also. Anything in this place could be relevant.  _Anything_  can prompt a vision that can help us later.”

  


“But you’re not getting visions in here,” Kaoru argues. “So when we’re out, maybe. And it doesn’t matter, and I wish you’d trust me on that. Sometimes it’s good to trust people to have your best interests at heart.”

  


“Right, because you would’ve looooved not knowing about my visions in the North and being left in the dark.” 

  


“You  _did_  keep me in the dark! Until you got angry enough to reveal them!”

  


“Well! You didn’t like that very much, now did you?”

  


“And we can learn from that that some information is withheld  _for good reasons_ ,” Kaoru says, trying to be patient when his body is telling him it’s important to grab Natsume by the cloak, shake him, then kiss him a little for good measure. “But I’m not your mother. I’m telling you to trust me, but you’re an adult. Ask me one more time and I’ll tell you. Just…think first.”

  


Natsume stares back at him, fingers drumming restlessly against his own cheek. “Tell me,” he finally says after a weighted pause, something already unsettled within him. “It’s not about the drude we’re currently dealing with, is it.” 

  


“No. It isn’t.”

  


Kaoru breathes in through his nose, then opens the book he’d shut so hastily before. “There are only five drudes recorded as being active in the last few centuries. Three of them died in the last war against the Shadowlands, before Rei’s mother came into power. One of them is terrorizing the North right now. And the last one…” 

  


He hesitates, then pushes the book towards Natsume.

  


Natsume pulls the book over, dropping his hand to rest it on the pages in front of him. 

  


It’s like looking at a mirror of his own memories, of every stupid moment spent in High Harbor with the man—no,  _thing_ —that lied to the world and pretended to be his husband. His stomach rolls as the sickening realization really, truly settles upon him.

  


The drawing that stares back at him could be none other than Tsumugi—even if that isn’t the name they call him.  _Drude have two names—one to summon them, another for those they’ve attached themselves to._

  


His fingers tremble where they touch the book. “I knew something wasn’t right,” he faintly says. “I knew. I told you that, back in the West. I told Lord Rei—he brushed it off. But I  _knew_.” 

  


“Rei might not have known,” Kaoru says quietly, resting a hand on Natsume’s thigh. “ _I_  didn’t know, and finding hidden creatures is my entire life’s job, calling, whatever. We have no idea how many drude are running around, they’re only different from humans…on the inside.”

  


“…I’m going to be sick,” Natsume says, pushing back from the table to rise, but that only dislodges Kaoru’s touch and makes him feel ten times worse. His chest heaves, hands trembling where they’re balled into fists. “He was the previous Emperor’s drude, wasn’t he. That’s why...why he was so adamant that he  _knew_  about them.” His head whips around, looking back at Kaoru, his expression strained as he tries not to look as terrified as he feels. “You just read about…about how the previous hosts of drudes are—they’re possessive. And how they  _hate_ anyone else the drude gloms onto, because drudes keep poisoning them, even after they’re gone. That’s  _me_ , Kaoru--how is that not relevant?!”

  


“Because it wouldn’t change anything!” Kaoru’s voice is pleading, and he grabs for Natsume’s hand, catching the fist between both of his. “He hates you, you know it, what’s the difference if he hates you because of Wataru or because of someone he himself killed eight years ago? I thought—you don’t—you don’t have that many good memories, I thought if I could leave you some…”

  


“Because now he hates me because he can’t help but hate me, on  _top_  of hating me for Wataru! If there was reasoning with him, now t-there isn’t—“ Natsume feels himself breathing faster. “W-why—does this keep happening—to  _me?_  I didn’t  _want_  him, I…” 

  


Except he remembers so clearly, so very vividly, the moment he had to have asked.  _“Take it off. No, the seal, take the seal off. Please, I want to help.”_

  


A clear, firm, magical request of a drude, that’s what it takes.

  


Natsume dissolves, trembling, curling up as he clings to Kaoru’s hand. “That means I’m tainted, too,” he faintly says. “By a drude. I’m so stupid.” 

  


“Natsume, this is  _what they do_ ,” Kaoru protests, and grabs him, crushing Natsume to his chest, uncaring of the added weight of him. “They deceive. They taint. They—this—this is  _why_  I can’t ever really give it up, what I am, because seeing someone like you, someone powerful and pure and beautiful and passionate like you, being at the mercy of something like that, I can’t  _take it,_ I’d rather lay down my life a thousand times then ever have you feel like this!”

  


Natsume shoves himself up against Kaoru, unable to stop himself when at least Kaoru is warm and solid and  _not_  some terrifying creature that likely wants to feed off of him for the rest of his life. “I’m trying really— _really_  hard not to lay down and give up right now,” he says, his voice hiccuping. “It’s…it’s one thing to know some of what is going to happen, it’s something else to see the  _signs_  of the inevitable. So if you could tell me—maybe just one thing that’s good? That would be helpful.” He sucks in a shaky breath. “I really…really don’t want to die.”  _Like a prophet, like my mother warned me about_. 

  


Kaoru’s mind spins out, churning pathetically, unhelpfully, and he doesn’t even realize he’s moving before he leans down, pressing his lips to Natsume’s, arms around his waist to pull him close.

  


For a split second, Natsume freezes.

  


That’s all, though.

  


Frantically, his arms wrap around Kaoru’s neck, clinging as he lurches up to kiss him back, a quiet, muffled noise stuck in his throat. 

  


Feeling Natsume melt into his arms, clawing and eager, is better than anything Kaoru can ever remember feeling. He kisses hungrily, hands gripping at Natsume’s clothes, dragging him closer, tasting every bit of him that he can reach. A swift movement, and he lifts Natsume, hoisting him up onto the table—

  


Only to whisk him off just as promptly when the table wobbles and creaks threateningly. Kaoru breaks the kiss, grinning sheepishly, brushing the hair back from Natsume’s face. “Maybe not the table,” he says softly, letting his nose touch Natsume’s.

  


Natsume squeaks, startled when he’s lifted, more so when he’s hoisted up again, courtesy of a very unhappy old antique attempting to collapse underneath him. “Ah…y-yeah,” he whispers, his cheeks flushed as he lowers his eyes, fingers wrapping up shakily into Kaoru’s hair. “Maybe…not the table. Sorry. You’re…a really good kisser.” 

  


“It’s so, so much practice,” Kaoru teases, trying to pretend like he’s not breathing hard, like he doesn’t always feel like that around Natsume. “Ah, that was…pretty forward of me. But I’ve been wanting to do it for a while.”

  


“No, it’s…good.” Natsume’s face butts into Kaoru’s neck, where he inhales deeply. His previous panic seems more or less forgotten when he’s this close, after Kaoru’s mouth was on his. “You can do it again.”

  


For once, Kaoru doesn’t need to be told twice.

  


He leans down, more gently this time, and kisses Natsume softly, letting his lips move over Natsume’s, coaxing and teasing with each brush of his mouth. One hand strokes through Natsume’s hair, the world narrowing to the parts of Natsume he can touch, the parts he can taste, as it feels more every moment like nothing else matters. 

  


Natsume feels himself melt, clinging uselessly for a moment as he’s kissed so thoroughly that it makes his toes curl up in his boots. A muffled groan escapes his throat, and he shifts hungrily, taking a chance by pushing Kaoru back into the chair so he can follow after, hiking up one side of his skirts to climb into his lap. 

  


“Whoa, whoa,” Kaoru breathes, grinning as he lays his hands on Natsume’s hips. “Easy, sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere. The Svalde library probably isn’t the place for, ah…”

  


“Disagree.” Natsume’s eyes glint as he wriggles himself closer, pushing his hair back over his shoulder as he nuzzles into Kaoru’s neck. “Libraries are usually a great place to do things.” 

  


“Listen, it’s just, I, ah, I…am not going to argue about that when you’re kissing my neck,” Kaoru eventually gurgles, flopping back in the chair and petting up Natsume’s spine. “Don’t blame me if the Svalde kick us out, though…”

  


That’s a concern, to be sure, and it makes Natsume pause for a moment. He exhales a breath through his nose, annoyed, and then decides he  _needs_  to do this for a few more minutes, at least. “It’s only fair,” he concludes, kissing Kaoru’s neck again, draping his arms over the back of the chair. “They keep the rooms icy cold.” 

  


“Don’t complain about that,” Kaoru breathes, letting a hand steal down to squeeze Natsume’s pert ass through his skirts. “That got you to cuddle with me. Ah, I haven’t wanted anyone like this in a long time…maybe if you’re good later, I’ll show you what you’re doing to me.”

  


Natsume shudders, his legs wobbling and threatening to make him topple out of Kaoru’s lap to the floor. “I would do anything,” he whispers against Kaoru’s ear, “to have your cock in my mouth right now.” 

  


And he thought the previous thoughts coming out of his mouth were embarrassing—that one takes the cake, but so help him, he regrets it significantly less. His face burns, breath fast. “Be the adult, tell me to get back to work.” 

  


“I, ah, don’t feel like you have enough respect for how hedonistic I am?” Kaoru gasps, hands falling to Natsume’s thighs. “You can’t spend weeks calling me an irresponsible pervert and then put the burden of this on me, you know?”

  


Not to mention that his cock is  _painfully_  hard right now, nestled up against Natsume’s ass, albeit through half a dozen layers of fabric.

  


“I—“ 

  


Natsume swallows hard, his eyes fluttering as he shifts back, feeling the hard, aching line of Kaoru’s cock pressed against him. He spares a look around—as if that will really tell him where the Svalde are, it’s entirely useless to try—before deciding—well—to hell with it.  _I’m probably going to die, anyway._

  


He slides back, hitting the floor with a quiet thump. He shuffles back a bit underneath the table, rearranges himself onto his knees, swiftly settling his rumpled skirts and then immediately reaching up, hands sliding over Kaoru’s thighs. “If you scoot forward, under the table more,” he quietly says, breath hiccuping, “I’ll…I’ll do it right here.” 

  


“Honored guests,” comes a gentle voice from behind Kaoru, making him yelp. The tall form of Aeria appears suddenly as if by magic, hands laced together. “Perhaps, if it is not too great a burden, you could restrain yourselves from copulating on the documents that the Svalde have guarded for a millennia through fire, war, and countless perils. The use of our library is not given lightly.”

  


Kaoru feels suddenly as if he’s five years old again, being caught with his hand in his mother’s apron pockets for sweets. Shamefaced, he nods, gently getting Natsume off the floor. “Sorry. I’m sorry. This is my fault, I…ah, I’m just at fault, we’ll be respectful.”

  


Natsume, as red-faced as humanly possible, heaves himself to his feet, throws himself into his chair, and buries his face into a hand. “It would be fine to die now, I think,” comes his muffled response.

 

The Svalde lingers, about thirty times longer than Kaoru thinks is necessary, until Kaoru straightens himself up properly, everything pinned and hanging where it should be. Then she steps back, into the stacks, and vanishes again. “Maybe…we should wait until we leave this place,” he says weakly. “Just a feeling. A feeling of not wanting to be talked to like that ever, um, again.”

 

The stare Natsume gives him out of the corner of one very narrowed eye is sharp and unavoidable. “If you make me wait,” he lowly says, “until I step out of this place. It better be within an _hour_ that we find an inn, or you will give me your dick in the snow.”

 

“Is that a challenge?” Kaoru asks, with a devilish wink. “I’m not afraid of the snow. I’d rather it was special, you know, for you, but if you leave me no choice, I’m happy to roll you on my cloak.”

 

“It’ll be special.” Natsume quickly looks away, his face burning anew, so hot that he feels the thud of his heart behind it. He opens up the book in front of him far more quickly than necessary. “I’ve…now I’m sure if it. I’ve never been with a human before.”

 

“That’s a lot to live up to,” Kaoru says, reaching over and chucking Natsume under the chin. “I’ll do my best to show you why mosts folks like it. Sorry if it’s missing that spicy little thrill of not knowing if you’re going to die.”

 

That startles a laugh out of Natsume, and he scrubs a hand down his face, exhaling a shaky breath. “Gods. No. I don’t want that, I just want…this is ridiculous, coming from a Nightcloak, and the first prophet in hundreds of years, talking to a paladin. But I just want something normal.”

 

Kaoru brushes Natsume’s hair behind his ear. “There’s nothing wrong with that,” he says softly. “No matter what incredible stuff we can do, we’re still humans. We want warmth, and affection, and…I mean, what else matters?”

 

“…I don’t know.” Natsume tips his head into that touch, his eyes lidding. “You tell me. You’re the one…” He trails off, wincing. “ _Married_ to Lord Rei. Is that…fine? It sounds silly to ask, knowing how he is, but I’ve seen how he is about Lord Shu, so I don’t know…”

 

Kaoru pauses, thinking through his response. “We’ve always…taken other lovers,” he says slowly. “I love him, but he’s…not someone you can give your whole life to. Or so I used to say, and then it seems really easy for Shu, but that’s not my business.”

 

“I wish I could show it to you.” Natsume’s voice is quiet as he turns his head to look at Kaoru. “Their bond. Then…you’d feel better, maybe. Or at least realize there’s nothing to be done. It’s not just a string, or a cord, like most bonds. Even the previous Emperor’s is just a straight line. Theirs…is a cord wrapped and knotted, tied all around them, and you can’t figure out where it starts or stops.”

 

Kaoru blinks. “Oh. That’s awful. Ah, I thought I was over being annoyed about it. I promise, I don’t blame either of them for anything, I know it just happens to people. But that…what the hell is wrong with Rei and Shu, then? What does that?”

 

“Looooots of magic.” Natsume sighs, planting his chin into his hands. “Bonds aren’t exactly understood by wizards, but I’ll try to explain, with what I do know. So…you know there’s the normal, correct magic that wizards have? The stuff you see a trained wizard do, after classical training? There’s also the other kind—aberrant magic. Mika’s a good example. Well…the school of thought is that bonds aren’t either of those. It’s ‘random’ magic. Like when magic misfires, or there’s a lot of stress, duress, a life-changing event…that can cause random magic, which can cause bonds. And sometimes, that magical misfire is so compatible that it can cause something like Lord Rei and Lord Shu. Or so researchers say.” He spreads his hands. “Personally? I think it’s entirely random. If you’re a wizard, you might get a bond, you might not.”

 

“Where does this aberrant magic come from?” Kaoru asks, intrigued. Then he shakes his head, and says, “Ah, let’s finish reading all this first, we can talk about that back in the room. I’d like to leave tomorrow, if we can. At least I got some information on how to kill the drude. I think…that might be my task, when we go up there.”

 

“You’ll die,” Natsume says, automatically, as if it’s an actual vision. He grimaces, shaking his head as he turns back to his book. “Sorry. You’ll do what you have to, but I still…don’t want to think about that.”

 

“I need you to understand something,” Kaoru says, resting a hand on top of Natsume’s. “Before we…do anything other than kiss. All right?”

 

“You’re a paladin and you have a duty. I know that already, you’ll notice I didn’t tell you not to.”

 

“Yeah, but it’s bigger than that.” Kaoru tries to think of how to word it, running the tip of his tongue over his teeth. “The best way I can put it is…there are some things I really do have to do. And knowing I’ll probably die, or knowing I’ll definitely die, is not going to stop me for a second. But I need you to understand that none of that means I don’t want to live, or that I won’t fight to stay alive with everything I have.”

 

Natsume lets that particular statement flip around in his head, and he nods, switching their grip to give Kaoru’s hand a pat. “Mm. Good. That’s the same as me. That’s what I meant, and why I got mad at you about the thing I Saw when you got so protective. You just said it better.”

 

“…Got it,” Kaoru says, and brings Natsume’s hand to his mouth, kissing it gently. “So maybe we can actually respect each other on this kind of thing in the future. I’d love to have your assistance.” He pauses. “When you said I’d die if I went against the drude, was that a guess, or a prophecy? Just curious.”

 

“I still can’t See in here. It was a guess.” Natsume’s expression turns wry, his fingers curling underneath Kaoru’s lips. “Unless even the Svalde can’t slap a prophet down forever. Prophecy’s aberrant magic, too, by the way. It’s just desirable, whereas necromancy is sort of…you know.”

 

Kaoru grimaces. “My family hates all aberrant magic,” he admits. “But they just define it as anything that’s not from an Academy-sanctioned wizard.”

 

“They must find Mika infuriating, huh.” Natsume tugs his book closer, hesitates, and looks Kaoru up and down. “Is it…weird now, if I want to sit in your lap?”

 

“I don’t care,” Kaoru says bluntly. “Hop up. Just don’t distract me, I’m making notes of all the ways I can kill these bastards.”

 

“I can behave. I have work to do, too.” Natsume relocates, neatly depositing himself onto Kaoru’s lap in a way that he _hopes_ distributes his weight nicely enough.

 

The feeling is curiously reminiscent of a few rather large ladies Kaoru remembers bedding, but he keeps that to himself. Somehow, he doesn’t think Natsume will appreciate the comparison. “How’s the diary going?”

 

“Awful and useless and boring. Lots of talk about women. Honestly, you’d like it.”

 

“Why, have the women got big tits?”

 

“Some of them.”

 

“Nice.”

 

Natsume elbows him in the gut—not hard, just enough to remind him that he’s gross—before falling silent, settling back into reading in spite of his complaints.

 

…which is how they remain, for another pair of hours, to the point that Natsume doesn’t quite notice the pain in his neck and back from being hunched over for so long, nails in his mouth as he chews on them, distracted. “Kaoru.”

 

“Mm?” Kaoru is only half-listening, almost tranced with the way he’s reading slowly, scanning for every possible hint of something helpful in the moldy old book.

 

“So this diary deliberately doesn’t mention names, right?” Natsume leans his head back, hissing out a breath when his neck cracks. “Can I read something to you? And you tell me if I’m crazy, or if it’s…what I think it is?”

 

Kaoru blinks, clearing some of the cobwebs from his mind. “Uh, sure, go for it. Anything in Common is going to sound good right now.”

 

Natsume nods, straightening a bit and flipping back a page. “‘Winter is here,’” he begins, a chill going down his spine for some inexplicable reason, as if reading this text out loud, even in this place, could bring its writer to them. “‘The snow came for days, but the festivals still go on. The Capital, alight with the magic of our wizards, makes for a sight that I could only dream of.

 

“‘But for all that I dream, there has never been a moment like this one. In the dead of winter, snow fresh upon the ground: a garden. A garden, green and beautiful and lush, turning the barren forest into a paradise. The other wizards, the Enhanced, all were in awe. They claimed it to be a ‘true blooming’, gushing about how this was the dawn of a new time, where wizards would use their true abilities, and humans would love them again. All this, because of a garden.

 

“‘Inexplicably, I am furious. Not only that, but jealous—the dark-haired, heavy-eyed shadow doesn’t deserve to be called a wizard. I’d let him know that, if for one moment, even my most beloved advisors would leave him be.

 

“‘It’s as I write these feelings onto paper that I realize how lost I’ve become. The jealousy I feel proves it…but all I can think of is how I’d like to consume him, and eat that garden whole. But maybe it is a new era, and I’ll be eaten first.’”

 

Natsume sits back, sucking in a slow breath. “It keeps going,” he says nervously. “Nothing until this point made me think…well. I thought I was reading the diary of…just another Academy wizard researcher. Until this.”

 

“That’s Rei he’s talking about,” Kaoru says, his tone absolutely certain, his very bones feeling cold. “That’s…that’s Eichi’s diary. Isn’t it?”

 

“If that entry didn’t make it clear enough,” Natsume says, sounding stressed, “the next entry is him talking about having sex with Lord Rei and how he’s going to kill all sex wizards because _he_ can’t feed like that.”

 

“Why are you upset?” Kaoru asks, frowning. “Is it different than how you thought it would be? I thought Eichi’s positions on killing people were pretty well known. Especially on Rei.”

 

Natsume holds up a hand to interrupt him, and reads, as an explanation. “‘Logically, I understand that this is magic, and magic does as it wants. Harnessing such an instinct in order to survive, however—and not only survive, but thrive—angers me for reasons I can’t explain. Perhaps it is because now, the only way I can feed is on him…I resent it. I resent it, and without it, I am nothing, lest I fall to the base needs of those in the Depths—which I cannot do.’” He glances back at Kaoru. “He’s only started talking about needing to feed here and now…after Lord Rei, but notably, after—“ He catches himself, setting his jaw. “After the drude appeared. He only mentioned Tsumugi once, and never again. Now he’s blaming it all on Lord Rei and claiming that he needs to feed on him or eat humans. I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

 

Kaoru’s eyes go wide. “That…holy fuck,” he whispers. “Fuck, that kind of…oh, that’s probably not good.”

 

He reaches out, and grabs the dusty old book he’d been paging through. “That makes something make sense. I wasn’t sure I was reading this right, so I put it away for a while, but take a look at this. This Nagisa they’re talking about? People weren’t summoning him as vengeance on their enemies. They were praying to him. Like, to bless their homes, notably to keep them safe from invaders.”

 

“Like a minor god,” Natsume murmurs. “Whereas we’re terrified because it’s an archdemon, and we think it’s going to eat us all. But…that’s only the case after the drude latches on.” His eyes flick back to Kaoru once more. “That thing has to die. I’m telling you, I read two-thirds of this diary, and had no idea it was the previous Emperor until now. Not a mention of slurping souls, eating people, nothing like that.”

 

Kaoru shudders. “If a drude can do that…can take maybe the most powerful force for…well, I’m not sure if I should say for good, but for something, and turn it into what we now know…” He shakes his head. “This Nagisa has a drude, too. So we’d better not go up there expecting a minor god blessing us by keeping us safe from invaders. To be safe, we should go up there expecting two Eichis.”

 

Natsume makes a decidedly unhappy sound, nearly tossing the diary out of principle alone. “It’s so, _so_ weird,” he mutters. “I had no idea it was him. I knew that drudes were powerful, but…it’s _so_ different, reading this later stuff.”

 

“There’s notations like that in the books about the drudes, too,” Kaoru agrees, and flips to a certain page. “Look, they studied this wizard, he was a quiet, pious man who lived his life in public service. Then, boom, drude, and look at his later writings. Like a totally different person.”

 

Natsume chews on his lower lip, considering that. “But it didn’t affect me like that,” he finally says after a moment. “And I know I made a pact. Looking back, it was obvious. Was he just too weak, or…ugh. I don’t know how drudes work.”

 

“Maybe he wasn’t around you long enough,” Kaoru suggests. “With this case I’m talking about, the drude made a pact with him, then the next notation was a decade later, after they’d destroyed most of the monastery the wizard ran down in the Sandlands.”

 

“Maybe. That makes sense; judging by the entries, it would’ve been easily over a decade of him being with Tsumugi. Oh, gods, I guess I have to keep reading this,” Natsume unhappily mutters, looking back to the text in front of him. “If I have to read one more entry about what he wants to do to Lord Rei, I might scream.”

 

“A decade…” Kaoru frowns, and flips forward in the book, then nods slowly. “Hmm. Each time there’s been a total personality change observed, it’s been almost exactly a decade of the drude and host working together. One of these historians thinks that they actually cultivate a life form together, that has a germination period, yuck. Another one thinks that it’s a disease that takes time to cultivate.”

 

“Ew. I don’t want to think about their babies. But…Lord Rei has mentioned that it was always like the previous Emperor was ill. Like consumption or something. He’s still like that, I’ve noticed it, too. Lord Rei thought it was connected to him not feeding properly, though…”

 

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Kaoru points out, and jabs a finger at the book in Natsume’s hand. “Because he was fine before that. Rei’s just projecting, because he would feel like shit if he never had sex. Hey…huh. When you read that diary…do you get the sense of someone who’s an opportunist, or someone who’s thought out every possible strategy and chosen the best one?”

 

“An opportunist. He’s an idiot, actually. All I could think of when I started reading was ‘who put this guy in charge of research, seriously.’”

 

“Then I really fucking doubt he knew he was going to die, back when Leo stabbed him, right?”

 

“Really doubtful. He plans absolutely nothing until he has no choice.” Natsume flips to the next entry, wrinkling his nose as he continues reading. “Knowing this is the previous Emperor now makes this highly unpleasant.”

 

“But think about it,” Kaoru urges. “It takes about ten years for a drude to change a person completely…but Eichi only died eight years ago. Maybe the drude hasn’t finished with this Nagisa guy yet. It’s a thought.”

 

“That’s…promising. So maybe we could still reason with him? And convince him to get rid of that thing.”

 

“Maybe. If he’s as powerful and good-hearted as the legends say…there could be a chance, at least.” Kaoru shrugs, feeling a little hopeless. “It’s that, or fight a couple of insane gods.”

 

“…I think the previous Emperor is beyond saving,” Natsume quietly says, thumbing over another page in the diary. “So I hope Nagisa isn’t. Nhhh.” It’s a stressed little sound that then trails off into a startled: “Uh. He was _into_ Lord Rei. Ew, poor Lord Rei.”

 

Kaoru cocks his head. “You knew that, though, right? They used to feed on each other all the time, Rei told me all about it.”

 

“No, I mean, like…don’t make me read it out loud,” Natsume grouses, heaving a sigh as he does anyway. “‘If anyone tries to steal the Demon Prince from me, I’ll slay them on the spot. His brother, too, is an additional treat I didn’t anticipate, though his blooming was far less graceful.’ That goes beyond ‘feeding’, unless I’m reading it the wrong way.”

 

Kaoru’s nose wrinkles. “Oh…um, ew. Rei never felt that way about Eichi, trust me.”

 

“Pretty gross. Oh, gods, do you think this goes up to when Lord Shu was in the Academy?”

 

“No wonder Ritsu stopped coming out of the Shadowlands,” Kaoru mutters. “Gross. I know that Eichi and Shu have some…really nasty history, but you probably know more about that than I do. Me and Shu don’t really talk much.”

 

“I know enough.” Natsume chews on his lower lip, scanning the pages briskly now, avoiding Eichi’s ramblings as much as possible. “He wouldn’t say much about it…he’s the worst about being protective over me, actually.”

 

“Yeah, he’s a softy. Don’t know how Rei keeps from bruising that delicate skin all the time, honestly. Mm, never mind, don’t listen to me, I’m being a bitch.”

 

“…You can vent,” Natsume mildly says, flipping another page. “I won’t repeat it. But I will scold you if you go too far. I love Lord Shu.”

 

“I don’t hate him, I don’t…” Kaoru wipes a hand down his face. “My feelings got hurt because of him, but I know full well that it’s not him that hurt me, so nothing I say on that is fair. And Rei kind of…got all of our friends in the split when we were apart, so I never really got to talk about any of this, because I just went to my hideaway house and felt sorry for myself for a few years.”

 

“Then you can do it now, to offset the gross thing I’m reading. Lest you forget, I’m the troublemaker prophet that ruined their lives by Seeing the whole thing.”

 

Kaoru huffs. “It’s just…I thought we were the perfect couple, you know? Like, we spent a hundred and fifty years figuring out how to be partners, how to work around each others’ quirks, how to support each other even when things are hard…and then this fancy little fainting pink thing just shows up and steals him away from me after all that? It’s weird, it’s not fair, and bonds are stupid and shouldn’t happen,” he finishes, hearing himself whine and not being able to stop it. “He doesn’t even fuck Rei the way he wants it, I know he doesn’t, but Rei doesn’t have another choice, and he can’t even see it. There, that’s my piece.”

 

Natsume’s eyebrows climb as he listens, periodically turning pages. “Fancy…little fainting…pink thing,” he echoes, so stuck on that particular descriptor that he has to giggle in spite of himself. “You’re right, though. Bonds are stupid and shouldn’t happen. They just cause trouble.” He pauses, considering for a moment, even as he blushes a bit thinking about it. “So…then…what way is it that Lord Rei likes it, exactly? I thought I knew, now I’m not sure.”

 

Kaoru snorts. “He likes to kiss for an hour with lots of tongue and teeth and blood, then wrestle a little and wind up on his back. He likes to get messed up and bloody, then be cuddled all night. He only likes to top if he can tease you and make you blush, and he gets bored of that after a while. He likes new partners, as many times as possible, the more willing, the better.”

 

“O-oh. That was…very specific, thank you.” He’s not reading anymore, just staring at blurring text while blushing. “Umm…well, at least it sounds like I didn’t do anything wrong…but he and Lord Shu, they…” Natsume pauses, thinking. “Actually, to be completely honest, Lord Rei did sound really surprised when Lord Shu even suggested that.”

 

“Oh, he actually managed to do it for once?” Kaoru asks, hearing the sarcasm in his voice and not bothering to censor it. “I’ll bet he was surprised. I’m just saying, if the second you figure out a way to mute your bond you immediately do it and run back to the person you married…bonds might be shit.”

 

“Too much,” Natsume quietly chides. “Neither of them had any say in it. Lord Shu had a hard time with it, too. I know he and Mika…well. It’s complicated, with them.”

 

Kaoru holds up his hands in surrender. “I know, I know. I know it’s not his fault. It’s just…the same annoyance I have every time I see my father being nice to some kid. Like, why should I have had to work so hard for it and wound up with nothing when some upstart gets it for no reason? Irrational, not the kid’s fault my old man is a piece of shit.”

 

“Mm. I understand. I don’t want to take away letting you rant or anything, just—not too mean,” Natsum wryly says. “Unless it’s about the bond directly. That you can shit on all you want, because I do agree they’re bullshit. I hate the idea that as a wizard, I could pick up one at any time and ruin someone’s life.”

 

“Right?” Kaoru demands. “What’s even the point of them? You know, we should look in the library, how long have people had these? You’re better at explaining magic than anyone I know.”

 

Natsume puffs out at his chest at that, intensely pleased. “Thank you. And I can tell you what the point is, according to researchers, but it requires drawing a chart.”

 

“Oh. Cool. Can you just…sketch it with your finger? I’ll follow along.”

 

“Too much chart for that. Even you’d be irritated. It’s fine, I’ve got ink.” Natsume grabs an empty piece of parchment, Kaoru’s quill, and the inkwell they’ve been sharing. “So,” he says, drawing a six-pointed star as if he’s had this conversation before. “There are six originators. Dragons, sirens, sidhe, demons, nymphs, drakes. You know that part.”

 

“Yeah, obviously.”

 

“Good. But I doubt they teach baby paladins that the offshoots of those—Skybred, Wavebred, Airbred, Shadowbred, Greenbred, Icebred—have certain…attractions to one another.” Natsume goes about labeling each point with a different rune. “Some are extremely compatible. Some are not. The idea is that bonds play off of that sometimes. For example—“ He draws a neatly dotted line from Greenbred to Skybred. “They’re naturally attracted to one another, through their magic. Also, peculiarly…” The next dotted line goes between Airbred and Shadowbred.

 

Kaoru’s head cocks. “Huh. No, they mostly just teach us who to protect, who to ignore, and who to kill. This is fascinating.”

 

“This is the kind of stuff wizards have to know when working with one another. If you put someone descended from Greenbred with someone from the North, for example—well, it won’t end well.” A straight line is drawn between the two of those. “Some make more sense. That one, of course, does. Plants and ice don’t generally mix. The same thing with Shadowbred and Skybred…dragons were the gatekeepers. They don’t work well with demons. So, the point of this,” Natsume continues, filling out the rest of the chart methodically, “is that the bonds we know of typically do make sense. Lord Rei is half-bloodbred…well, that’s a subset of Shadowbred. Lord Shu is descended from the fae, specifically Airbred. Their magic naturally works together.”

 

“That’s all well and good, but why is it so…exclusive?” Kaoru asks, intrigued, but puzzled. “Why doesn’t it let people touch other people if they’re in love? And is it always like that? If Eichi is a paladin, and he’s got a bond with Leo…”

 

“He _was_ a paladin. He went to the Depths and came back as something else. I think? He’s odd. If it did, then he’s Shadowbred. The king is descended from several fae lines, including Airbred, so it’s not unlikely that that’s the case.” Natsume sighs, tapping his quill against the table. “Lord Rei and Lord Shu are an extreme case. Most bonds don’t create their issues. Most wizards think it’s because they’re both Nightcloaks. Too much magic, too much power. It overloads their bond. Sometimes, the answer can be that simple.”

 

“Like…” Kaoru thinks for a moment, then says slowly, “If their magic is both very unpredictable from being so human, or whatever…it’s like tying your boat in the dock with far too much rope. It doesn’t matter how well you do it, it’ll get tangled eventually, because it’s just too long.”

 

“Yes, exactly like that! See, human blood isn’t a dilutor like so many people think. It intensifies. Even Lord Rei’s twenty-five percent makes his Shadowbred and Greenbred characteristics even more prominent. In fact, it’s because he has so much that he’s likely so powerful. For Lord Shu—he has the right ratio, considering his family lines go back to several prominent fae names. It’s a perfect mix to create a Nightcloak, basically.” Natsume heaves a sigh. “If more human families were forthcoming about their heritage, it would be much easier to determine who was going to bloom, actually—which would cut down on wizard-caused deaths substantially.”

 

Kaoru whistles through his teeth. “Huh. Maybe we could work on that. I mean, it could get a little sticky, if parents started booting their kids out before they could cause damage, though.”

 

“Obviously. That’s why there should be separate screenings, and monitorings, so that damage _won’t_ happen. There’s plenty of secluded deserts for children to bloom in where they can’t hurt anyone. Ah, I digress.”

 

It takes a minute before Kaoru figures out what exactly Natsume is talking about, then he nods. “Oh, right. The point of bonds. So, that’s how they choose, but why?”

 

“A few theories. Compatible magic, more skill to protect your mate. Compatible species, better companionship. But mostly…magic likes what it likes. Why would a faerie like a demon? Because they’re unpredictable, indulgent, powerful, a source of food they can’t easily kill…”

 

“So it’s just having captive food?” Kaoru’s lip curls. “Sounds even worse than I thought. Why would some humans have bonds, then?”

 

“‘Captive food’ is a little harsh, but…yes. Also, we have to classify ‘human’ now. What’s the paladin standard? Seventy-five percent human or more?”

 

“It…depends what it’s crossed with,” Kaoru admits. “The establishment is a lot more willing to look the other way on lower percentages if it’s something they’ve deemed more ‘acceptable.’ Crossed with demons and sirens, it’s eighty-five. With sidhe, seventy-five is the classic. But with nymphs and dragons, you’ll probably be fine down to sixty or so. It’s racist, but it’s based on how likely those people are to make trouble the paladins have to fix.”

 

“It is racist, but…well, that’s magic for you,” Natsume mildly says, unsurprised. “So, in the Academy—‘human’ is if you bloom as a wizard. Your secondary traits—even if that’s your dominant trait, actually—are automatically less.” He wiggles the fingers on one hand. “Because there has to be something human in you if you’re a wizard, and that’s good enough. Yes, even Wataru, he thinks he’s human enough, so he is.”

 

“All…right,” Kaoru says slowly, leaning forward, elbows on the table, hands raking through his hair as he studies the chart. “So are you saying that before humans started cross-breeding with other creatures, there were no resonant bonds?”

 

“Yes,” Natsume simply replies. “I am. One half of a bond _has_ to be a wizard, and a wizard has to be part human.”

 

“But the other half can be anything, including a pure being,” Kaoru says, frowning. “So humanity is just like…some giant wild card of nature?”

 

“I am _blowing_ your little paladin mind right now, aren’t I.”

 

“And I thought I was done with being mystified,” Kaoru agrees cheerfully. “After having my worldview proven wrong so many times. I guess there are still some things in the world that can blow my mind, and you’re one of them.”

 

Natsume’s mouth falls open, his cheeks turning pink again as he abruptly looks away. “You didn’t have to say it like that,” he huffs, not sounding upset at all. “A-anyway, hopefully that makes…a little bit more sense. Bonds still aren’t a perfect ‘science’ even to wizard researchers.”

 

“Eh, I’d heard they don’t have any clue about how it works,” Kaoru says, fascinated. “How do you know all of this, anyway? I’d heard that you were basically studying under Rei, and Rei doesn’t know anything about bonds.”

 

Natsume scoffs at that. “I stopped studying under Lord Rei years ago. He’s too busy, and…he’s helpful, but mostly when it comes to _very_ complicated things. I learn faster when it’s a hands-on situation, anyway. And also…” He shrugs, fiddling with his quill. “I can see bonds.”

 

“You have a lot of special talents,” Kaoru says softly, and tucks a strand of hair behind Natsume’s ear. “People don’t really take advantage of asking you what you know very often, do they?”

 

“…It’s mostly being able to see weird things, so they don’t know what to ask for,” Natsume quietly says, even as his head tips forward to press his cheek into Kaoru’s hand. “But…yes, that sounds about right. Also, surprise, surprise—older wizards don’t want to hear it. The Nightcloaks do, they understand. Nooncloaks and Dawncloaks that are older than me, though—they just think I’m being pedantic.”

 

“Because you know more than they do,” Kaoru says wryly. “How dare you. Honestly, though, you’d think that wizards of all people would understand when someone is naturally gifted.”

 

“Wizards are still people. We’re biased and mean and cliquey. And I’ve been told I’m rude when I tell them they’re wrong.”

 

“Hmm…have you considered that people might be a little more…” Kaoru struggles for a word, and comes up empty. “Have you thought of being less rude?”

 

“Yes. But they’re still wrong, and won’t listen when I try to be nice, so they deserve to just be told outright.”

 

“But you want people to be on your side,” Kaoru points out. “You want them to work with you, it’s pretty important if you’re going to be high-ranking in the Academy, like I know Rei wants you to be. It sounds obnoxious, but people skills are important.”

  


Natsume’s mouth purses, and he flips another page. “I’ve tried,” he finally says. “I’m not good at it. I know that. And it’s become a low priority lately, for obvious reasons.” 

  


“Is that obvious?” Kaoru asks, blinking. “If you mean because you need people to do what you want quickly…I’ve had a much easier time baiting crawlies with sweet wine rather than sour.”

  


“You can’t tell me that works with set-in-their-way paladins when I literally had to rescue you from a dungeon. Some people in the Academy only listen to me when Lord Rei is looming over my shoulder. Others, only when it’s Wataru. Obviously I want that to change, but I don’t have time to fix it until I’m actually back in the Academy.” Natsume sighs, leaning forward over the table. “Which sounds so nice right now, comparatively…” 

  


“What do you do, in the Academy?” Kaoru asks, changing the subject as he pages through the book, hoping the conversation distracts him from the crushing annoyance of reading about gods who want to kill him, personally. 

  


“I’m in charge of research. Or I was, until Wataru and I were sent West. Mika and I also used to collaborate on handling cases of aberrant magic blooming. Oh, heh, I found the entry where Lord Rei fucked off from the Academy because of you.” 

  


  


“Yeah?” Kaoru grins, leaning in. “Does it mention the dragon?”

  


“I’m past that part. The previous Emperor did throw a fit, though, and I almost agree with him, because Lord Rei is stupid. This entry doesn’t mention you by name, but I can only assume you’re the ‘half-assed excuse of a paladin that’s still in High Harbor, for some reason.’ He thinks you stole Lord Rei from him.”

  


“Wow, that’s not fair,” Kaoru protests. “I didn’t know anything about Eichi then. How does he know I was half-assed? Ugh, never mind, probably from the Hilbrandt, they’re such bastards. And my father likes to talk, he and Eichi worked together once or twice. Rude either way.”

  


“Oh. He keeps going. He—“ Natsume opens his mouth, then shuts it, his cheeks flushing. “Why is he so crass sometimes?” 

  


Kaoru raises an eyebrow. “About me? Or about Rei?”

  


“Um…about you, sort of…” 

  


“Ehh? I hadn’t even met him then! What…has word of my good looks spread so far?”

  


“I don’t think he met you…but um, your sister, seems to be another matter entirely?” 

  


“What the—“

  


Kaoru grabs the book, eyes wide, mouth falling open. “That  _bastard_ ,” he snarls, lip curling. “I’m going to rip him limb from limb.”

  


“You’re being a little rough with the book, the pages are delicate,” Natsume protests, trying to tug it back. “But that’s fair, and you should. This is why I don’t trust men.” 

  


Kaoru relinquishes the book, face hot, eyes dark. “He’s hurt so many people we don’t even know about,” he mutters. “If I had any doubts before…not about my sister, but just what you found out about the drude. He’s past the point of help, even if he wanted it.”

  


“He did want it, at one point.” Natsume’s voice is tired. “But not enough to do anything other than wait for other people to fix it. I think he thought Lord Rei would…but how could he? The previous Emperor didn’t share any of these issues with him. Ugh, if I have to read his inner monologues about Lord Shu, I’m going to be sick.” 

  


“Skip those,” Kaoru says immediately. “You already know what’s in them. You—you know what?” 

  


He stands, and holds out his hand. “We know how to kill a drude. We know what changed Eichi. We know who this Nagisa is, and probably what he wants. What else are we going to find here?”

  


Natsume hesitates, and then nods, slowly putting down the diary and shutting it. “You’re right,” he says, reaching out to take Kaoru’s hand. “Reading that is just going to make me unhappy. And angrier. And I’m already fairly angry.” 

  


“So let’s go mess their shit up.” Kaoru squeezes, and gives Natsume a wink. “And find an inn on the way North.”

  


Natsume’s face colors, but he doesn’t pull back. Instead, he gives Kaoru’s hand a squeeze back. “…As long as you’re serious about the inn. If I’m going to throw myself to the wolves in the North, I want a good time before then.”

  


“No wolves,” Kaoru assures him. “Just a warm, soft bed that we hopefully won’t have to share with anyone. Oh…shit, the Hilbrandt took my money off me, do you have any?”

  


“You’re really useless,” Natsume sighs, releasing his hand with a slap. “Yes, I’m prepared, unlike  _you_. I mean, I’m sure your sword would fetch a fair price, if it came down to it—I’m kidding, kidding, don’t make that face.” 

  


“It’s a priceless artifact! It’s probably the only way we’ll be able to kill the drude! I found out its probable name, by the way. Ibara. That probably doesn’t help, but just in case I die before we get there, don’t lend money to anyone named Ibara.”

  


“Mm, got it. I don’t lend money to anyone, except Lord Rei, who never brings any. Just like you, you both are useless.” Natsume tugs his cloak about his shoulders, straightening its ties. “So. Wait until morning? Or shall we escape from this unmagical hellscape now?” 

  


Kaoru casts a glance over at the hour candle. “Hmm. It’ll be dark in an hour or so. We…” He quirks an eyebrow. “We could make use of this private bed, if you’re not too upset about magic being part of your lovemaking. Do it like real humans.”

  


Natsume flushes, and fidgets with his cloak’s ties a bit longer than necessary. “I’ve never done it like that before. It…might be nice, not being interrupted by magic. Like, honestly, I  _know_  orgasms are going to happen, I don’t need a preview five minutes into the future, but thanks for reassuring me…”

  


Kaoru bursts out laughing, and tugs Natsume to him, sliding an arm around his waist. “Then let’s go have some fun. I’ll take care of you. You don’t need to be a prophet, I promise there’s an orgasm in your future.”

  


“…Okay.” Natsume sidles closer into Kaoru’s embrace, coiling his arms around him as he nuzzles up into his neck. “I don’t even care about the orgasm that much,” he murmurs. “I just want you to touch me.” 

  


Kaoru leans down, pressing a kiss against Natsume’s temple as he steers him out of the library, back up to their room. “What do you like? It’s better if we talk about it first. I’m really,  _really_  flexible as far as what I like, so if there’s a way to make it really good for you, I’d love to know it.”

  


Natsume latches onto Kaoru, letting himself be drawn along. “Um…” It’s a question he’s never been asked, so putting it into words is…different, to say the least. “I’m definitely not as experienced as you, so I don’t really…” He fumbles, obviously embarrassed. “I guess…being in charge of it is kind of—hard for me. I know, go ahead and laugh, I know I’m bossy all the time.” 

  


Kaoru shrugs a shoulder. “Doesn’t bother me to take charge. I’m not going to make fun of you no matter what it is, sweetheart. Tell me you only like to do it upside down while dressed as a Sandland whore, I’ll think it’s weird but I’d probably still do it with a smile. Do you like to top?”

  


Natsume’s mouth snaps shut, as if in an attempt to curtail the very automatic answer that would escape faaaar too quickly. Then, finally, “No.” 

  


Kaoru just smiles. “All right. Do you like having a man in you? Or do you prefer mouths and hands and thighs? There aren’t any wrong answers.”

  


“A-all of that is fine. Even though neither of them ever let me suck it,” Natsume crossly mutters underneath his breath. “Even though I  _would_.” 

  


“Ah…you’re welcome to do that any time you want with me,” Kaoru assures him. “Shit, now I really have to try not to die.”

  


“Uh? You have to try hard regardless, that was the agreement.” 

  


“Yeah, but now I know that the longer I live, the more I’ll get to put my prick in your mouth,” Kaoru says cheerfully. “It’s added incentive.”

  


Natsume instantly turns pink, and uselessly slaps at Kaoru’s arm, squirming away. “Pervert. Pick a better incentive, like ‘living is pretty good’ or something!” 

  


“Living is fine? Living with sex is  _way_  better.”

  


“Well—well, whatever, I guess! If that’s what you want, fine!” 

  


“Oh, sweetheart.” Kaoru steers Natsume around a corner, and leans down to whisper in his ear, “That’s nowhere close to  _all_  that I want.”

  


Natsume whimpers before he can stop himself, clamping a hand belatedly over his mouth. The glare he offers up to Kaoru has absolutely no vitriol behind it whatsoever, especially when coupled with his very flushed face. “It better not be,” he huffily says, finally giving into the urge to stretch up and set his teeth against Kaoru’s neck. “It’s  _your_  fault that I’m like this.” 

  


“Yeah? Is that supposed to be a threat?” Kaoru attempts to sweep Natsume off his feet, only to abruptly be reminded that Natsume is far, far heavier than he appears. “Oof, sorry. Heh, remember when we thought we’d never be able to find our way back to the room? I guess you really can get used to anything fairly quickly.”

  


“Don’t wanna get used to this place,” Natsume complains, relatching himself to Kaoru’s arm. “I can’t wait to leave. And manipulate gravity so that I barely weigh a hundred pounds. Some things are just nicer with magic.”

  


“I can certainly toss you around easier once we do. But don’t worry. I’m planning on you spending the rest of the night under me, anyway.”

  


“Better,” Natsume mutters, complete with a shiver. “But I want to be tossed, too. And—mmn.” 

  


“Mmn?”

  


“Mmn. Thought of a thing. I…mmn.” It takes a flustered moment of forcing himself to say it before he actually does. “It’s…good….if you want to…you know. Mark me up. And things like that. Nothing really rough or anything, but…” 

  


“Love bites, kiss-marks, scratches, or bruises?” Kaoru asks, not missing a beat. Being embarrassed is for people who’ve said far fewer lewd things with a straight face.

  


“Y-yes. I mean, that’s…all good.” 

  


“Ooh. Is it the getting of them that you like? Or the wearing after? Just trying to, ah, calibrate my temperament.” He thinks he’s got a pretty good idea of what will make Natsume squirm, but it’s always good to be specific, if possible.

  


“…if I say both, is that too complicated?” The question is a very shy attempt to not be completely embarrassed, even though he’s still failing. “I…nhhh. It’s good, g-getting them and being marked up. It’s also…not bad…being teased afterwards…”  _How_ many times have Rei and Wataru deliberately peeled down the high collar of his blouse to check and then pick on him, exactly? Too many to count.

  


Kaoru tightens his arm around Natsume’s waist, prepared for the weight this time as he whisks him around a corner. “Do you like being called names? Cute ones, naughty ones? Anything you know you hate?”

  


“Cute ones.” Natsume snuggles hard into Kaoru’s side.  _This_  he can answer with certainty. “Maybe other things. Not whore. Or anything…too feminine. I know what I dress like, but I’m not a girl.” 

  


“That was my next question,” Kaoru says, nodding his head. “Thanks for telling me about the dragon thing, it makes the whole thing make way more sense. Not that there’s anything wrong with a man dressing like a woman, or whatever, but I just have to know what sweet things to call you.” He pauses, then asks, “Is…the one I’ve heard people use…is that a personal one? Or just one you like?”

  


“…You can call me that. A few people do.” 

  


Natsume rubs his cheek slowly into Kaoru’s shoulder. “Kitten, kitty, little cat, it’s all fine. Lord Rei has called me that since he met me. He says I have cat eyes. And claws. Even though I bite my nails off.”

  


“Just making sure I’m not giving you some kind of weird flashback.” Kaoru stops outside their door, and brushes his fingertips under Natsume’s chin. “I want this to be all about us, with no shadows of other people. You’re not a substitute for anyone, for me. You’re just you. And I want to take you to bed.”

  


Natsume swallows, then nods, tipping his head forward into Kaoru’s touch with a soft little huff of breath. “I don’t want to think about anything else right now,” he quietly says, reaching up to brush his fingers  against Kaoru’s wrist, then clings, very gently. “So…let’s try to have fun before the end of the world, maybe.” 

 

Natsume is gentle, so Kaoru is gentle with him, at first. As much as he can be. He’s at least gentle when he whisks Natsume inside the room, and drags a chair in front of the door, then presses him against the wall, making a cage of his arms, raining down kiss after kiss after kiss on him. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs. “Do you like being told that? Do you like knowing…what being near you does, to a man like me?”

 

Behind a closed door, it’s much easier to relax, to not be horrified over his own reactions, and to not think about where they are and who might be scrutinizing them. Kaoru’s voice being so low and warm sends a shiver down his spine, and Natsume’s hands immediately reach out, curling into the front of Kaoru’s tunic to drag him closer, as if being caught between him and the wall isn’t enough. “I could hear more about what it does to you,” he whispers, breath hitching between kisses, arching up onto his curled toes to return them more eagerly.

 

“You make my heart race,” Kaoru breathes, one of his hands cupping Natsume’s face, drawing him in for each kiss that steals his breath. “You make my hands clench, because all they want to do is hold you. You make me forget everything else. And you make my blood pump so fast it’s hard to think, because none of it…well.”

 

With his other hand, he grabs Natsume’s hand, and drags it between his legs. “You remind me I’m human,” he whispers, pressing the hard length of himself against that soft hand.

 

The warmth of Kaoru’s cock against his hand makes any last, lingering worries flutter out the window. Even if Natsume hadn’t seen what he’d seen—surely, _surely_ he couldn’t be faulted for this, not in this place, not now—

 

But he _did_ see those things, and because of that, there’s no turning back.

 

Natsume’s fingers curl, shaky but eager, mouth parted against Kaoru’s as he pants for breath, trying to cling to him with other hand as he palms over his cock through fabric. “You can do whatever you want to me,” he pants out, drawing back only enough to try and breathe, shaking down to toes as he kisses at Kaoru’s neck while tugging him closer. “Gods, I wish you would…”

 

Kaoru shivers, pushing his cock against Natsume’s hand, just enjoying the friction when he’s felt like he’s on the verge of an erection every minute for the last week, delighting in the sweet, gentle pressure. “Before we’re done,” he murmurs, “you’re going to learn to ask me for exactly what you want. I promise you that.”

 

Then he tugs Natsume away from the wall, and leads him to the bed, unfastening his laces as he goes.

 

“Or you could learn to read my mind,” Natsume proposes, following after him obediently, his fingers looped through the laces of Kaoru’s breeches as he stretches up on tiptoe to properly nuzzle and kiss behind an ear. “ _I_ think it’s easy.”

 

“Yeah? Even when you don’t have your magic?” Kaoru pushes Natsume back onto the bed, then climbs on after him, straddling his lap, kissing him hard enough to rattle his bones, then pulling away, nipping at his lower lip. “Then read my mind, Kitty-cat. What do I want to do to you first?”

 

Natsume, dazed, flushed, a little overwhelmed already, fumbles for breath, let alone words. “U-um..mm…nhh. Kiss me until I pass out, maybe…” he breathes, grabbing back at Kaoru with needy fingers, urging his shirt up and over his head. Actually, _really_ seeing Kaoru shirtless from the waist up makes him swallow audibly, his heart thudding as his face burns hotter.

 

Kaoru follows Natsume’s gaze, and looks down at himself, almost startled. “Ah…I guess you’ve never seen a guy with scars before, huh? Not too terrible, I hope?”

 

“N…no.” It’s a concerted effort not to hoist himself up and lick them. What an _odd_ desire. His fingertips trace the same path as his eyes, somehow much more delicately. “It’s, um. It’s…really good.”

 

A shiver ripples over Kaoru, his ribs tightening as Natsume touches him so gently, in all the places he remembers his hurts. He leans down, and cups Natsume’s face again, thumbs brushing over his cheeks. “You can touch anything you want. We have as long as we want, and I’m never going to get tired of touching you.”

 

Natsume’s tongue wets his lower lip, a shaky breath drawn in slowly as he lowers his lashes. “I’m sure you’ve said that before,” he says with a quiet laugh, his fingers curling after resting over Kaoru’s hips. Helplessly, he butts his head into Kaoru’s hands, seeking that affection.

 

Kaoru sits back on Natsume’s lap, leaning in to press a kiss to each of his eyelids in turn. That pressure, that hunger to grab and kiss and fuck Natsume until he can never walk again is starting to ease out of him, even as his actual desire only builds higher. “Does that bother you?” he asks softly. “That you’re not the first?”

 

“…No.” Natsume tilts his head, nuzzling into the touch of Kaoru’s hands, his own mouth finding the inside of his wrist to plant a kiss to. “But I…”

 

_I wouldn’t mind being the last._

 

That’s a scary, dangerous thought to have, and Natsume bites it back, just barely. The way his face burns must be telling, so he grabs for one of Kaoru’s hands, dragging it to the strings of his corset. “Doesn’t matter. Put your hands on me more.”

 

Kaoru nods, and his hands are deft on the stays with long, long practice, stripping the corset off of Natsume with a single fluid motion. His hands slide up, easing the sleeves off of his shoulders, touching the bare skin there. “I want to see what you look like without any of that,” he breathes. “When it’s just you and me and nothing else.”

 

How is it that he’s used these lines a hundred, a thousand times, and only now feels like he means every single word, like they were created for moments just like this?

 

“If you’re expecting something impressive…” Natsume trails off on a laugh, suddenly vaguely nervous for reasons he can’t pinpoint. Clothing stripped away, bare from the waist up, he shivers in the chilly room, even with his pulse pounding and blood pumping too-hot, and so he reaches back, pulling down his hair from the makeshift bun he’d tossed it into.

 

Kaoru grabs Natsume’s wrists, holding them fast. “Look at me,” he urges quietly. “Do I look like I’m expecting something you can’t give me, Natsume?”

 

Natsume hesitates, nervously lifting his eyes to catch Kaoru’s before he shakes his head. “No,” he whispers, his fingers curling. “But I still…I-I don’t know. It feels…important. That’s not the right word, but I still want you to like what you see…”

 

“I like everything about you.” Ooh, too emotional? Too clingy? Kaoru hopes not, but all he can seem to be with Natsume is honest, so he leans into it, climbing off Natsume’s lap and tugging him to standing, letting the dress fall to the floor. “I like,” he says, bending to kiss one bare shoulder, “every,” a kiss to his chest, “single,” a kiss to his belly, “part,” he falls to his knees, pressing a kiss to one upper thigh, “of you.”

 

Instinct makes Natsume almost automatically protest—it’s _much_ easier to hide behind layers or his hair or a dozen other things, or at least, that’s the idea if he’s not flat on his back. “O-okay, okaaay, you’re making me more nervous now!” he protests, grabbing at Kaoru to try and pull him back up. “You’re not even playing fair— _you_ could be so much more naked, and you _aren’t._ ”

 

Kaoru stands, a wicked grin on his face. “Why don’t you change that?” he asks, running a fingertip under Natsume’s chin. “It’s way more fun to get naked if someone pretty is undressing me.”

 

“I was working on it!” Natsume protests, taking a snap at Kaoru’s fingers with a growling little huff. His hands drop back down to Kaoru’s breeches, nerves receding when his fingertips brush over the hard line of Kaoru’s cock in the process of hooking into his laces. His breath hitches, eyes flicking down distractedly. “You’re almost as hard as you were earlier,” he mutters. “Good.”

 

Kaoru sucks in a breath, and nearly loses his footing when Natsume’s hand feels like everything he’s ever needed to touch his cock. “Just wait. It’ll be harder soon if you touch it.”

 

He leans down, and lets his voice go low, rumbling in Natsume’s ear, “And even harder when it’s inside you.”

 

Natsume shudders visibly, and he yanks far more quickly at those laces after that, easing the fabric down around Kaoru’s hips until it slides to the floor the rest of the way. He’s not shy about this part, not with that kind of encouragement, and his fingers slide around Kaoru’s cock, palm sliding against it as he gently squeezes in spite of his eagerness. “Please,” he breathes, lurching up onto his toes to nuzzle into Kaoru’s neck, pressing close, the sudden shock of skin against skin taking his breath away. His own cock twitches against Kaoru’s thigh, and his teeth scrape against the curve of Kaoru’s shoulder when he can’t quite resist taking a ‘bite.’ “If you throw me…maybe we’ll break the bed.”

 

“Then we’ll be gentle,” Kaoru assures him, sitting on the bed and tugging Natsume down after. “Until we’re done having each other off the floor and want to get wild. I want to be gentle with you, anyway. But thorough. Gentle, but thorough.”

 

It’s easier, now that they’re both naked, now that they’re skin to skin, now that they’re nothing but two men pressed against each other, hands roaming, mouths searching.

 

“Let it be known I _offered_ to let you throw me,” Natsume murmurs, breath hitching as he eagerly wriggles close, arms winding around Kaoru’s shoulders. He slides a slender leg tentatively against Kaoru’s hip, still obviously not entirely sure how pushy he should be, or how much he can really ask for, but so desperately wanting that contact all the same.

 

Kaoru rolls, pressing Natsume’s back into the mattress, finally taking charge the way his body is urging him to. He bends, sucking hard at Natsume’s neck, leaving livid little bites as he goes, running his hands up and down Natsume’s torso, pausing to rub and pinch at his nipples. “Tell me if I do anything you don’t like,” he murmurs, and gets his thigh between Natsume’s, rocking down against him. “Or tell me to fuck off, otherwise…I’m just going to have you.”

 

The far quicker, ragged intake of breath that Natsume offers up at first says anything _but_ ‘fuck off.’ His hands clutch at Kaoru’s back, chest arching up to press into those pinching fingers as his cock aches between his legs. “Just…do that, that sounds good,” he groans, his head tipping back, fingers dragging up to twist into Kaoru’s hair when he bites. “Nnn…it feels good just having you _on me_ , that’s not fa~ir…”

 

Kaoru rocks slowly against Natsume, savoring the body-to-body contact, as if his skin is trying to simply drink Natsume down. “Can’t do anything else,” he breathes, taking his fill, nipping and kissing at that long, pale neck. “Not when you’re like this. Mm, you’re so perfect under me…”

 

He brings a hand up to Natsume’s mouth, fingers teasing at his lips. “Open, love. Make them wet for me.”

 

Natsume’s lips part obediently, tongue flicking out to wet the tips of Kaoru’s fingers at first before sucking them into his mouth with a quiet, hungry sound. His chest rises and falls quickly, a soft groan stuck in his throat as he grasps at Kaoru’s wrist, keeping his hand in place long enough to suck and lap at each finger, tongue paying them the attention he had _wanted_ to give to Kaoru’s cock earlier.

 

“Good boy.” Kaoru’s world narrows to the ends of his fingertips, feeling Natsume’s clever little tongue dart around them, feeling them press into that wet heat. He curses under his breath, cock hardening even more against Natsume’s thigh. “I want to do everything to you first,” he says, laughing at himself as he slides the fingers out. “I want to fuck you and suck your cock and shove mine in your mouth and come all over your chest all at once.”

 

“…Good luck?” Natsume dazedly says, unable to stifle a laugh at that as his head rolls back, cheeks flushed and vision glazed. “I don’t think you can do all that at the same time…nhhh, I miss magic, I’d summon oil,” he grumpily says, trying not to look too nervous about not being able to do as much. “And—wait, come all over my chest? Really?”

 

“Mm, I want to come on your thighs, your belly, your chest, your face…” Kaoru reaches down to palm himself briefly, eyes half-closed at the delicious friction as he tries to control himself, thinking of such beautiful sights. “Everywhere. I want to spill it on your lips and watch you lick it up, I want you to make me spend in your hand and then wipe it on your skirts and go about your day, are you sensing a theme yet?”

 

“Y-yes.” Natsume’s eyes might be locked on the way Kaoru’s hand moves over his own cock, admittedly. “T…the last one. That’s gross.” He swallows, shifting to better wrap his legs around Kaoru, trying to draw him in between his thighs far less shyly than before. “But…good.”

 

“Someone as cute as you makes me think gross things sometimes,” Kaoru breathes, giving himself a last stroke before shifting, moving so his wet fingers slide up between Natsume’s legs. “Relax for me, sweetheart. I haven’t got any oil, so we’ll go really slow.”

 

Natsume nods, his thighs trembling a little as he wills himself to relax and not worry _so_ much about inevitable-vaguely-ouchy things. He wants it badly enough, that doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of it. “I’m pretty sturdy,” he insistently says, resisting the urge to grab at Kaoru. “I really, _really_ want it, you’re not allowed to keep me waiting forever…”

 

“I’m not keeping you waiting,” Kaoru assures him, and times it right, waiting for Natume to let out a shaky breath before he eases one finger in, kissing and nibbling at Natsume’s neck while he does, taking his attention away. “But you’re not allowed to bully me into going too fast. We have as long as we want.”

 

Like this, he can almost believe it—that there’s nothing outside these walls, that he’s free to indulge himself as long as he wants, that life won’t close in around them, that no one is missing them, that no one is suffering for their absence. Like this, working his finger slowly into the pliant, eager body underneath him, he can almost believe it.

 

“I’m n-not—nnh…bullying youuu…”

 

Natsume’s words trail off on a breathy hiccup, his thighs clamping down around Kaoru’s arm for a moment in a shiver of tension that he struggles to make go away. A deep breath, and he wills himself to calm down, even if he still shivers from overstimulation as his thighs slowly fall open. He huffs out a soft breath, his head falling back as his eyes flutter at the sensation of _something_ of Kaoru’s finally being inside of him. Even without oil, it’s not bad, courtesy of Kaoru taking his time. “Pleeease don’t stop talking, your voice is good…”

 

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Kaoru breathes, eyes glinting in the low light as he presses in, taking all the time he needs, kissing and stroking Natsume everywhere he can reach with hand and mouth. “You’re being so good for me, are you as excited as I am? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how good you’ll feel on my cock, how good you’ll look, how you’ll _sound_ , are you a squeaker or a moaner?”

 

It turns out, if he asks for something, he’s _very_ rewarded. While not intending to answer by example, Kaoru’s curling, wriggling finger inside of him curls just right, out of nowhere, and Natsume’s back arches with a sharp, breathy squeak escaping from his tongue, bringing his face to burn, flushing a dark pink. “W-when you do _that_ , I don’t—nhhghhh—fuck,” he finally, helplessly curses, sagging back with a panting moan as his hips rock down against Kaoru’s hand. “T-that….feels sooo gooood…I’ve…just b-been thinking, nhh, how it would feel…you between my legs, you on top of me…”

 

Kaoru’s mouth curves into an eager, almost sinister smirk as he curls his finger again and again, just watching Natsume come unraveled. “Good, you’re a squeaker,” he breathes, and shifts slightly, just enough to work a second finger inside. “Bite me if I go too hard, kitty-cat. You’re making me want to lose control, sounding like that…”

 

Natsume’s only response for a moment is a whimpering gasp, and his hands finally lift to sink into Kaoru’s back, blunt nails raking down his spine rather harmlessly for all his clinging. His chest heaves, cock throbbing between his legs as his body clenches around those fingers, so trembly-tight that his vision clouds at how _big_ Kaoru’s fingers feel. “You can,” he whispers, sweat dripping down from his hairline in spite of the room’s chill. “You can…do anything you want to me…”

 

“I will.”

 

Kaoru works his fingers into Natsume, nibbling eagerly on his neck. “You want to hear about all the things I want to do to you, little love? I’m going to fuck you until you can’t breathe, for starters. Then I’m going to hold you down and lick you clean, and swallow your pretty cock until you spend in my mouth. Then, since that’s going to get me hard again, I’m going to get your mouth on my cock and leave it there until I’m really, really satisfied. And the faster you open up for me down here, the faster I’ll get my cock in you.”

 

So help him, he’s never been _this_ hair-trigger before.

 

He blames Kaoru entirely, all the teasing, maybe the stress, maybe the fact he just wants something that feels good and that’s _exactly_ what he’s being handed, but the words alone make _such_ a visual that before he can help it, Natsume feels his back arching off the bed, his thighs clamped about Kaoru’s arm as he comes with a muffled, shuddering gasp, a hand clamped over his own mouth to keep back something far more embarrassing if he _does_ dissolve into a squeaky mess. His chest heaves, his eyes fluttering and glazed, feeling the sticky drip of his cock over his stomach as his body melts back down, sweaty and pliant.

 

“Good boy.”

 

Kaoru presses a kiss to the top of Natsume’s head, then draws his fingers out, once Natsume is done shuddering, “This is how we used to do it when we had to get creative,” he assures him with a wink, and drags his hand through the mess, then slicks his own cock with it. “Just like the old days, though…having you on a bed is awfully nice. Kiss me, you’re gorgeous and I want to make love to you.”

 

Natsume’s arms flop back over Kaoru’s shoulders, even as little, lingering tremors slither their way through him. “You’re _good_ at that,” he dazedly says, trying to push himself up enough to catch Kaoru’s mouth in a kiss, but fails, and just gives up, dragging Kaoru down instead. His mouth parts, teeth catching at Kaoru’s lower lip before his tongue follows behind, eagerly, languidly seeking. “Nhggh. I meean it. Do whatever you want to me…”

 

Kaoru lets his full weight lay on Natsume for a moment, focusing on nothing but kissing him silly, teasing out Natsume’s tongue, sucking on it before nibbling on his lips. “But I want to do everything,” he murmurs, and kisses Natsume again. “This first, though.”

 

He grabs Natsume’s legs, hoisting them up until his ankles are around his ears, and gently, carefully, guides the head of his cock to Natsume’s hole, pressing gently inside, wet with Natsume’s seed. “Nice and relaxed now, hm? Ah…fuck…gods, that’s—“

 

The noise that leaves Natsume’s throat is definitely another squeaky little sound, maybe even vaguely stressed as he braces himself for what should be _too much, too much, too much_.

 

Except that doesn’t happen, for one reason or another, and the way his chest heaves slows and calms, his thighs quivering before he relaxes down with a breathy, pleased noise. “Oh,” he languidly mumbles, flopping a hand against whatever part of Kaoru he manages to reach. “Oh, you’re _very_ good, aren’t you. That…nhhh…”

 

“Just like being here,” Kaoru groans, eyes sliding shut as his forehead tips down, resting against Natsume’s. Natsume feels _delicious_ , tight and sweet and hot and wet, squeezing him so beautifully that he savors the time it takes to slide in, eagerly enjoying every inch of the motion. He feels Natsume tense up, but then relax under him, finally going delightfully boneless. “That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it, just like that, doesn’t that feel nice? You like having a man in you, hmm?”

 

“Uh huh,” is the immediate, breathless answer, entirely shameless when it _does_ feel so, _so_ good. Kaoru’s cock feels so perfectly nestled inside of him that it makes his eyes cross, his legs boneless enough to just flop forward, resting against Kaoru’s shoulders as his hips rock. Natsume’s mouth falls open just from that bit of motion, his back arching up with a whine leaving his throat as he wriggles down, seeking a repeat of something that feels _intensely_ like it was made just for him. “Oh. Gods, is it…s-supposed to…nhh…feel l-like that…all t-the tiiime…”

 

“Eh?”

 

Kaoru grins, and nips at Natsume’s lower lip, letting his hands drag down to squeeze his waist before traveling up again, thumbs rubbing circles over his nipples. “Feel like what, darling? Like there’s something hot and thick that only exists to make you feel good? It’s definitely supposed to feel like that.”

 

“B-but…it…” Natsume whimpers, his hands flopping down uselessly, curling into the sheets as his chest arches up into the touch of Kaoru’s fingers, the touch to his nipples making him twitch and tense. “It doesn’t…hurt at _all_ …”

 

“Mm, good,” Kaoru murmurs, pressing another kiss to Natsume’s cheek, shifting his hips to grind in deeper. Every press into Natsume’s body steals his breath, making him pant, pleasure dancing up his spine. “You’re so beautiful, causing you pain should be a crime—ah, fuck, wiggle that way again, I’m going to either come or die—“

 

Natsume swallows, his eyes lidded and dark as he tries to replicate the same, tense wriggle he’d done before, which ends up making him gasp as well this time when he intentionally squeezes down around Kaoru’s cock. “Don’t die,” he groans, pawing uselessly at whatever part of Kaoru he manages to reach. “T-then you can’t—ahhh….do this agaain…”

 

The words go right to Kaoru’s cock, heat liquid in his belly, and he groans, teeth nipping at pale, pink skin as he rocks, getting his cock in a little deeper every time. “You’re right,” he pants. His hair falls in his face, his hands gripping the sheets as he presses in. “Can’t…no way can this be the only time, I’d really be the worst then…I want to make you make those faces every—damn—day—“

 

Kaoru’s cock is _too_ good at finding the exact right place to be, too good at pressing into him at just the right angle. It takes Natsume’s breath away, and leaves him just hiccuping, whimpering, unable to stop the little squeaks when Kaoru hits just _right_ and makes his toes curl, his fingers uselessly scrabbling at his back and sides when he tries to reach for him.

 

It just feels _good_. Not too much, not overwhelming, not like he might die in the process even if he’s having fun—just—good—and Natsume doesn’t bother hanging onto the idea of _waiting_. He shudders as his cock pulses, helplessly spilling over his stomach again, another sticky mess that leaves his legs shaking and a fine sheen of sweat over his skin, his hair sticking to his shoulders and face as he tips his head back in search of a full breath, unable to find one.

 

There’s a certain amount of pride Kaoru takes as a man in getting Natsume off twice before he comes, but he barely gets to enjoy the feeling before he loses himself, face buried in Natsume’s shoulder, breathing in the smell of his hair as electricity dances over his skin, heady tension suddenly eased. “Shit,” he whispers into Natsume’s hair. “That was so…mmm. Nice. So nice.”

 

Natsume shivers hard, another little lingering bolt of pleasure shooting its way down his spine when he as much as considers moving. His arms slowly flop their way around Kaoru’s shoulders as one leg limply slinks down, flopping onto the bed as his toes randomly curl. He can feel the sticky-slick mess left inside of him, but that only makes it better, somehow, instead of making him want to take a bath immediately. “…You can do that again,” he dreamily says.

 

“Mm. All right,” Kaoru says, eyes lidded as he sucks gently on Nasume’s neck, and starts moving again, dragging delicious pleasure out of himself again. “Ahh…I could fuck you all day, it’s just so…mm, this is my new home…”

 

A protest is already on Natsume’s tongue— _noo, I didn’t mean it, it stings, it’s too much—_ but he swallows it abruptly when none of that _exactly_ seems to be true. Huh. Actually, it still just feels good, if not slicker and kind of slippery. “H-hold on, my hips don’t wanna move that way,” he mumbles instead, shifting to let both legs slide about Kaoru’s waist instead, where his thighs squeeze and try to draw him in more. “Oh…fuck,” he groans, his head rolling back as his hands clutch at Kaoru’s hair, keeping his mouth on his neck as he arches. “Nnhh. Yes. That’s _so_ good, you’re…nooot fair…”

 

Kaoru pauses, buried deep inside. “Want to turn over? It feels good that way, too. I like it, because I can make all kinds of stupid faces and just…enjoy.”

 

“Nnnn…y-yeah, that’s good. But you gotta help,” Natsume mumbles, flopping back again. “The insinuation my body works well enough to roll right now…”

 

“Come here, sweet.”

 

Kaoru pulls out as gently as he can, then moves a hand, and grits his teeth. “Um, can you help, though? You’re still hard to flip.”

 

“You’re gonna like it a lot more when I can do magic,” Natsume grouses, huffing once before he slowly flips himself, ignoring how the bed creaks underneath his weight when he isn’t actively trying to be graceful. His hair flops forward into his face, and he reaches up a still-trembling hand to twist it up into a knot. “Bleh.”

 

“You’re going to like this,” Kaoru says with a smile, and guides his cock back to that slick, stretched hole, sliding in again nice and deep. “Mm…now all you have to do…is lay there and enjoy…and I get to imagine what kinds of faces you’re making. Are you drooling yet, or do I have to keep going?”

 

Natsume feels his already boneless limbs go even more wobbly and useless, and he smushes his face down into the bed, a breathless, muffled groan escaping when he’s suddenly, satisfyingly full again. “Mmnnn…keep going,” he breathes, fingers slowly kneading into the bedsheets as he arches his back to press back against Kaoru. “Even if I’m already…kinda…drooling a little…”

 

Kaoru looks down, and smiles when he sees the blossoming dark marks on Natsume’s neck. “You’re going to look like a mess tomorrow, love,” he breathes, and shifts his weight, bracing on his knees as he works in, letting himself find that sweet rhythm.

 

It’s easy, surprisingly so, for him to find it—more surprising is the way he can sort of feel the second the angle and the pace line up, that he can _feel_ when Natsume starts feeling incoherently horny, like his insides are being rearranged by cock, like there’s nothing better in the world than letting it move in him. Kaoru finds himself almost drooling, knowing he’s part of it, feeling that eager hunger from the man under him. “Fuck, you feel that?” he whispers. “That’s…that’s real good, isn’t it?”

 

“Uh…huh.” It’s a miracle Natsume even manages to mumble that response when Kaoru’s cock feels like it _belongs_ in him, buried in deep as it is. Normally, he’d be squirming and complaining by now, or at least pretending not to be, but this time feels even better somehow, like it’s even easier for Kaoru to find just how to move and where to put his cock. Natsume arches his back underneath him, shuddering hard when that makes his entire body tighten up, his own cock twitching between his legs. “Shit,” he mutters, his head thunking down onto the mattress, hearing the rhythmic creak of it that only seems to make him hornier. “I d-don’t…think…I’ve ever come this close to coming again…this soon…”

 

“Going to have to keep you hydrated,” Kaoru pants, reaching underneath and tweaking one of Natsume’s nipples, then rolling it gently between his fingertips. “Mm, if only there was some way to give you a nice little drink…”

 

He pauses for a second, then nips at one of the few unmarked places on Natsume’s neck. “Maybe later. For now, let me just…fuck you crosseyed.”

 

Natsume dissolves with a hiccuping shudder, burying his face down into an arm as his cock decides right then and there is an _excellent_ time to say good-bye to self-control. He comes again with a little whimper, his nipples achingly hard when Kaoru plays with them, to the point he’s fairly certain he can feel the thud of his own pulse in them. “You already _did_ ,” he moans, his head lolling, cheeks flushed dark and ruddy. “Keep d-doing it, I’m gonna be _terrible_ at sucking cock if I’m l-like this…”

 

“I don’t care if you’re good at it,” Kaoru grunts, shifting so he can brace his weight better, face buried in Natsume’s neck as he ruts in hard, taking his own pleasure properly, feeling it so strongly it feels like Natsume’s in him as much as he’s in Natsume. “I just—want you—to like it—“

 

Natsume exhales a breathy, gurgling sound, which is probably an affirmative, but mostly, it’s a _fuck me harder_ kind of noise, judging by the way he tries to reach back and claw at Kaoru. “I think,” he pants, trembling with each thrust, feeling his cock think about getting hard again even now, “I like—e-everything—you do—“

 

“Then I’ll keep doing everything to you.”

 

It’s easy like this to get his arm around Natsume’s stomach, pulling him back for leverage, if not actually pulling him up. Kaoru’s hips snap in again, a few more times, before his vision whites out, his limbs going suddenly tense, trembly, tears even pricking at his eyes as he feels himself collapse. “Holy…” He blinks rapidly, feeling his heart thud. “Nnh…why are you so…perfect…to come in?”

 

Natsume shudders again, tensing up as he feels Kaoru’s cock fill him again, that slick, sticky mess making him squirm. “D…dunno,” he gasps, shaking as he slithers flat onto the bed, uncaring that he’s laying in his own wet spot. “B-but…I might…need a little break…or else, I’m gonna pass out.”

 

Kaoru huffs against Natsume’s hair, and nods, feeling as if even that is too much effort. “I might die,” he says frankly. “But I’d be…wow, so happy about it.”

 

“…don’t pull out.” Natsume slowly turns his head back, nuzzling his face against Kaoru’s once his hair falls to the side. “You can lay on me forever. I-…I mean…you’re not crushing me or anything…”

 

“No?” Kaoru gives in to the temptation, and simply slumps down over Natsume, boneless and pathetic. “Nice.”

 

“Mmmnf.” Natsume flops his head back down again, arms sliding forward and flat. “Nnn. So…is it…supposed…to be like that? Every time?”

 

“Supposed to be?” Kaoru tries to ignore the little voice in his mind that tells him yes, it is absolutely supposed to be like this all the time. “I mean. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

 

“Nnh.” Natsume lays there, still and thoughtful for a moment, before finally coming to the conclusion: “It’s not that they’re bad at it…even if they aren’t as good as this. It’s just—they’re _way_ too big.”

 

“Amen to that,” Kaoru mutters. “It’s no fun when you’re with a guy who thinks his only job in bed is to be big.”

 

“…that sounds really bad. I was more commenting on that it hurts just because they’re too big…even if they’re careful.” Natsume flops a hand uselessly. “But yours is perfect. Really good.”

 

Kaoru nuzzles inito Natsume’s neck. “You’re sweet. Really…really good. I’ve never…” He cuts off that train of thought. Mm, best not go too far down that hole.

 

“Mm. Spit it out.” _I’m in trouble, too._

 

“No. Shut up.”

 

“Gonna hit you. Spit it out.”

 

“No, this is not good behavior, I’m not rewarding it.”

 

Natsume pouts, his head thunking down. “I was being nice to you,” he grumbles. “Least you could do is be honest.”

 

“Yeah. Well.” Kaoru nips at Natsume’s shoulder. “Honest and embarrassing, do they _really_ have to be the same thing? I didn’t want to stress you out when you’re being so cute.”

 

“I’m not stressed,” Natsume sulkily mumbles, shivering a little at the nip of Kaoru’s teeth. “I’m happy. Say nice things about me, I’ll keep being happy.”

 

Kaoru sighs. “Fine. I was just going to say…I’ve never wanted to stay with someone after sex so much. And it’s true. But it kind of reveals too much about me, and sounds like I’m putting pressure on you.”

 

“…mnnf.” Natsume shifts, turning his head a bit in an attempt to rub it against Kaoru’s. “Should’ve just said it,” he quietly says. “It’s a compliment. I like being complimented. Especially because…nnn.” His head drops back down, face hot. “This kind of thing…isn’t my forte.”

 

“Or mine.” Kaoru gives him a brief smile, though he can’t see it. “You’d be surprised.”

 

“Uuuhh…disagree, my everything disagrees with you _so much_.”

 

“Eh? What? Am I being misunderstood?”

 

“No. You’re just wrong, because you’re good at this. All of it.”

 

Kaoru blinks. “No. I mean…like, being a lover. Someone who stays the night. I’m great if you want to have a good time, but I’m…not good about sticking around, usually. Or wanting to.”

 

“…You literally haven’t stopped holding my hand for days. Your argument is unconvincing.”

 

“That’s what I mean! This is different! You’re different! I don’t know why!”

 

“Is that…good?” Natsume asks after a moment’s consideration. “I…hmm. You are definitely the first person I’ve ever felt compelled to cheat with. Umm…Lord Rei doesn’t count.”

 

“No, he doesn’t. He has a magic prick.”

 

“He _does!_ And it’s so big and it barely even—“ Natsume’s face flames, and he stuffs it back down into the bed. “Nnnggghh. Nope. Nope. Not fair. He doesn’t count, dragon’s blood dictates that I wanna, that’s why!”

 

“Heh, what’s my excuse, then?” Kaoru asks wryly, nuzzling into Natsume’s neck.

 

“…he’s sexy,” is Natsume’s muffled ‘complaint.’ “And so are you. My neck is _sore_ , that feels kind of nice.”

 

“I tried not to be too mean, but you’re easy to mark up,” Kaoru says, brushing some of the mass of hair back from the pale skin. “And it looks so lovely on you.”

 

“Nnhh. I told you to be mean about that, though, so it’s good.” Natsume shivers at the touch of Kaoru’s fingers, his cock giving a sort of resigned twitch. This is just how it’s going to be, apparently. “You can pull out now. I need a little break.”

 

“Oh, good,” Kaoru says with relief, gently sliding his softening cock out, then shifting so he can firmly spoon Natsume. “I hope you’re cuddly after sex like you are when you’re sleeping.”

 

“…Yeah.” Natsume cranes his head around, nuzzling underneath Kaoru’s chin. “Especially if you give me your cloak to cuddle up with, too.”

 

“Fair’s fair, give me yours.”

 

Natsume hesitates at that. “…if it bites you…well, I guess it can’t in here,” he settles upon, mollified as he remembers that and reaches off the side of the bed where his Nightcloak had slid off.

 

Kaoru twists in turn, tugging up the heavy white cloak and tossing it over Natsume, then curls up in Natsume’s Nightcloak, taking a deliberate sniff. “Mm, smells like you.”

 

Natsume tugs Kaoru’s cloak over, snuggling down into it happily as the weight of it settles over his shoulders. “Yours is _heavy_ ,” he murmurs, pleased, reaching back to unwind his hair from the remainder of the knot he’d attempted to hoist it up into.

 

_The weight of Kaoru’s cloak over bare shoulders, warm hands, the only other weight on his skin his hair being released onto his back—_

 

Natsume’s mouth snaps shut abruptly as the memory of that vision sweeps over him, his face flushing as he dissolves down into the bed. “Uuuuugggh. I’m so duuuumb.”

 

“Hm? You don’t like my cloak or something?” Kaoru asks, a little drowsy as his fingers trace little patterns over Natsume’s shoulders. “I don’t wash it, but it’s not supposed to need it…”

 

“Noooo. I Saw this. Right before we came in here, I Saw it…” Natsume twists around in Kaoru’s arms, stuffing his face into his chest as he huddles down into the cloak. “Your cloak is good. It smells like your hair,” he says, kind of helplessly.

 

“You Saw this?” Kaoru asks, incredulous. “You…you knew we’d wind up like this?”

 

“I…Saw this part,” Natsume weakly says. “I didn’t think it was about sex, I didn’t really pay attention, I was trying to See stuff about the North…I mean, in retrospect, of course me being naked wearing nothing but your cloak is…questionable…”

 

“Questionable,” Kaoru echoes faintly, then he laughs. “You’re so cute. You’re so, so cute, I’m going to kiss every part of you. Prophets are silly.”

 

“Shut uuup! I’m not silly, I’m the youngest Nightcloak in history and the first real prophet in over 200 years! I’m _awesome._ ”

 

“Yes, yes, very awesome,” Kaoru says, grinning as he squeezes Natsume in his arms. “I’m going to be amused by this for a while, fair warning.”

 

“It’s not my fault I’m not a pervert like you!” Natsume protests, smacking half-heartedly at Kaoru’s chest, sounding like he’s even on the verge of laughing himself. “I don’t see sex in _everything_. You’re just bad!”

 

“Yes! And that’s good, because if someone weren’t a pervert, we’d have never gotten here.”

 

“We would’ve gotten here one way or another,” Natsume insistently says. “I Saw it. That’s how it works!”

 

“But you only Saw it because it was going to happen,” Kaoru points out, a bit smugly. “And it only happened because I’m a pervert. You’re too shy to go after what you want.”

 

“I—I am not _shy_.”

 

“Oh, no? Have you ever made the first move when you’ve liked someone?”

 

Natsume opens his mouth, shuts it, and huffs, extremely annoyed. “Yes. Once.”

 

“All right, all right, I retract,” Kaoru says with a sigh. “I just meant that it was cute. So let me cuddle you and tell you you’re cute.”

 

“Mmnf.” Natsume’s face immediately goes back into Kaoru’s chest, mollified. “Men don’t know when I’m flirting with them,” he finally says, voice muffled. “So I gave up. It’s better when they’re like you.”

 

“I’ve been alive a long time. You’re right. Men are stupid. The ones like me aren’t any smarter, we’re just blunter.”

 

“That’s good, though. I like blunt.”

 

“Ehhh? Who smacked me and called me a pervert, then?”

 

Natsume’s face lifts just enough to stare up at Kaoru before reburying. “…Just because I call you that doesn’t mean I don’t like it.”

 

“You’re really just…as hard to figure out as a woman, aren’t you? The skirts have gotten to your brain.”

 

“I’ll take that as a compliment, thank you.”

 

“You would. Growing up in a matriarchy made you weird.”

 

“I think you meant to say it made me better. The only place in this country that’s slightly less backwards is the North, where women can actually rule. This is why,” Natsume sleepily adds, “the king can shove off.”

 

“You’ve got to be a liiiiiittle bit nicer to the king,” Kaoru says with a grin, snuggling into Natsume’s Nightcloak. “Something something my sworn duty. Also, he’s a good kid.”

 

Natsume’s mouth purses. “I’m being nice. I’m saving his country,” he grouses, wrapping himself tightly in Kaoru’s cloak. “He’s a jerk about the Isles, like all kings are. And apparently, he wanted to give the Academy back to the previous Emperor. He’s stupid.”

 

“This is what I was talking about,” Kaoru tells him, curling an arm around Natsume’s waist. “About how sometimes you have to be less rude in order to like, get along with people. Isn’t it good, to have people like you? I know it sounds shallow, but it really does make it easier to do the things you need to do. I got my hand smacked until I was nicer about Wavebred.”

 

“…The people I like already like me,” Natsume mutters, even as he settles down again, winding an arm around Kaoru’s neck to stay close. “I don’t like being nice to people that think less of me, or just want to use me. I know it’s a thing I’m supposed to do, but it makes my skin crawl. Also, you’re still not nice about Wavebred—and you shouldn’t really have to be. Except about Lord Kanata.”

 

Kaoru scowls. “I’m nice to their faces.”

 

“Lord Kanata says you’re bad at it.”

 

“He…thinks he’s funny.”

 

“He kind of is.”

 

“You’re not.”

 

“I don’t try to be. I have no timing for humor.”

 

“Oh, is it a timing thing? Are you only on time for acid wit?”

 

“Precisely. Lord Rei says he likes that I have a sharp tongue, but I think he just likes that generically, if Lord Shu is any indication…”

 

“Rei just likes tongues.”

 

Natsume snorts in spite of himself. “I mean—yes. Quick question, why is his so…long?”

 

“Demon. It’s only long when he wants it to be. But fun story, when he was younger…he wasn’t very good at making it shrink back to normal length. Or putting his teeth away. He used to bite his tongue all the time, then cry.”

 

“…Oh.” Natsume struggles to keep a straight face, shaking as he tries not to laugh. “I’m…actually going to need you to not ever tell me stories like this about Lord Rei again or it’s going to ruuuiiin everything.”

 

“You mean ruin his image as the big scary demon king? Good, a little humility is awesome for him.”

 

“But I like that image of him. It’s always strange, seeing Lord Shu smack him around…”

 

“Just because you want to fuck him doesn’t change who he is,” Kaoru says, amused. “He’s still going to be Rei, even when he takes his place in the Shadowlands.”

 

Natsume’s face flushes hot as he gives Kaoru’s chest a little slap. “I-it isn’t just that, you know!” he defensively says. “I…really admire Lord Rei. And I respect him. I know you’ve probably seen him do a lot of silly things, but he’s still the most powerful wizard of our time, and I’ve been able to learn so much from him. Finding him attractive is tertiary.”

 

“Then why would you care about preserving your image of him?” Kaoru teases. “It goes both ways, even if you know he learned to swim when he was seventy years old, he’s still the powerful wizard who did all those things.”

 

“Because it’s kind of nice having an idol that is unflappable and universally powerful! I’m not good at compartmentalizing,” Natsume huffs. “And if he learned to swim, then he’s still doing better than me.”

 

“You—“ Kaoru blinks. “You can’t swim? You’re from the islands!”

 

“Everyone always says that as if we’re going to _swim_ from Redwater to Stormview! I was spending my time helping my mother in rituals, not floating around like a vacationing Mainlander!”

 

“But it’s easy! And you’re surrounded by water all the time, what if a hurricane blew you into the sea?”

 

“These days? I’d use magic to levitate out. Also, there’s only been one major hurricane to hit the Isles in the past fifty years.”

 

“But swimming is _fun_ , that’s most of what I did when Rei and I went to the Isles!”

 

“Yes. I’m sure. Like vacationing Mainlanders.”

 

“You know, if you don’t want Mainlanders vacationing there and swimming around, maybe you shouldn’t have artists drawing pictures of the “beautiful isles” and putting them up in every coastal tavern, with instructions on how to get there by boat for a magical holiday.”

 

“We have to make money somehow.” Natsume sticks out his tongue. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

 

“Mm, forget it, I’ll keep the money and go vacation in the Sandlands instead next time. There’s beaches, and the locals are always real sweet.”

 

“You get what you pay for. And I _guess_ if you want lots of brothels, that’s the place.”

 

“You can go and not go to the brothels, you know. It’s a beautiful country, kind of.”

 

“Mmmnnn…gonna pass, from what I’ve seen of it. The whole time I was there, men just kept trying to ask if I was for sale. Ugh.”

 

Kaoru winks. “They’ve got to make money somehow. Doesn’t mean you have to like it.”

 

“Um! This is very different! _Very_ different! You should’ve been annoyed by that and kissed me and said ‘it should’ve been obvious that you’re taken’ or something sexy instead of being a smartass!”

 

“Eh? Should I have? But I barely knew you then, and besides, I respect the right of a woman to sell her body!”

 

“Obviously! But—never mind, this is why men are fundamentally useless,” Natsume grouses, flopping his head back down.

 

Kaoru presses a firm kiss to Natsume’s cheek. “You weren’t mine, then. Just wait until someone tries to touch you now. Then they’ll know the end of my blade.”

 

Natsume stares up at Kaoru through his bangs, slowly turning a rather radiant shade of pink before he pulls Kaoru’s cloak up and over his face. “That was good,” comes his muffled, flustered response, his heart thudding for reasons he can’t really explain. “Much better.”

 

Kaoru grins. “And it’s going to stay like that. Now curl up, get warm, and let me rest my old, weary bones. We have a long way to go tomorrow, and it doesn’t look like anyone’s coming to pick us up on a snog.”

 

“Mnnf.” Natsume twists around, situating his back to Kaoru’s chest for very proper cuddling maneuvers. “Maybe we’ll get lucky,” he murmurs. “And a pair of demon horses will appear out of the snow.”

 

“Premonition, sweet? Or just wishful thinking?”

 

“Still can’t See things here. So just wishful thinking.” Natsume’s eyes lid before sliding shut. “Sorry in advance about tomorrow. The moment I step out of here…I’m sure it’s not going to be fun.”

 

“Quit predicting the future until we leave.”

 

“Can’t. Habit. Good night.”

 


	38. Chapter 38

 

The Svalde, very literally, burn every single note taken, right there in front of him.

 

Fortunately, a solid memory makes that irrelevant, especially when there is simply _no way_ Natsume could ever forget the things he’d read…for better or for worse. Thus, packing up, allowing his bags to be searched and fussed over, and being blindfolded to leave the hidden citadel in the morning is of no real surprised.

 

“Absolutely no touching,” the Svalde warn them again, which makes Natsume at least twenty times more anxious this time than the last. Before, it had seemed silly and childish of him to cling to Kaoru as he had, but Kaoru hadn’t minded, so—it didn’t matter, did it? Now, he feels cold and miserable, moodily sulking in the back of the cart as he forcibly sits a full arm’s length apart.

 

It would also have been helpful to be warned _when_ his magic would be returned to him, but this time, they seem to have assumed he’d be fine and prepared for it.

 

Is this a punishment for something he’d done within the confines of their library? He’d _tried_ to be respectful, and was fairly certain he’d succeeded, save for the one time he and Kaoru had—well. The sudden rush of _everything_ magic coming back to him once they cross over an unseen border makes Natsume loudly, sharply inhale, his grip on his own skirts white-knuckled as the world blooms around him anew in loud, bright color, even behind his blindfold.

 

The whispers of the Svalde—not aloud, but the edges of their minds, what escapes from their ironclad mental walls—seem painfully loud. The rustle of leaves, of every single animal deep within the woods, kilometers away, is overwhelming and brilliantly, painfully bright to his gaze. Natsume flinches, coiling up into a smaller ball, struggling to find his center, to breathe, to relax. _You’re the best at this in the entire world, you idiot. Calm down._

 

He does, because he’s who he is, but what doesn’t stop being so…loud, so _present_ , is…

 

_Kaoru?_

 

Kaoru stiffens, eyes twitching behind his blindfold. He’d be a liar if he said he didn’t feel it too, the sudden rush of awareness back to the world that feels less like freedom after prison, and more like the sun coming out on a previously cloudy day—revealing, definitely warming, but hardly a huge difference in the world.

 

 _They said not to talk,_ he thinks back, mental tone wry. _Minx. You smell good._

 

_To be fair, they don’t really seem to notice._

 

That’s amusing, considering how the Svalde had been so snippy about even telepathy before. Natsume, smugly, comes to the conclusion that he’s somehow become even more adept, even after being without his magic for a week. _Don’t be a creep. I can’t possibly smell good, I want a real bath._

 

_You smell like you. I like it._

 

“Any moment now, you will feel your magic begin to return, Prophet,” the Svalde intones. “Take care not to startle yourself.”

 

Natsume blinks a few times behind his blindfold, scarcely resisting the urge to pull it down for a proper glare in the direction of the Svalde. “You timed that wrong, but fine,” he mutters underneath his breath.

 

_I can’t wait to be away from these idiots. I know we need to head North as soon as possible, but can we pleeeease find an inn with a proper bathing room tonight…_

 

He cuts himself off with an audible squeak of surprise when a jolt that feels far more familiar comes rushing back to him. It’s far less startling, _far_ more normal, but that begs the question—

 

What the actual living fuck was he feeling before?

 

Natsume’s breath stutters a little, anxiety starting to creep in at the edges before he can tamp it down. At least he isn’t simultaneously being bombarded with visions—yet—but that seems like a small comfort when he can’t figure out immediately _what_ is going on.

 

A little less than an hour later, the cart rolls to a stop, and the blindfolds are removed. Kaoru blinks in the light, then looks around, eyebrows raised at the fact that he can’t see a Svalde anywhere. “Oooh, spooky,” he says, a little sarcastically. “Thanks for the library, but your hospitality lacks!” he calls into the forest, not really expecting a reply.

 

“Kaoru.”

 

Natsume’s voice is a little faint, or perhaps, just intensely perplexed as he reaches out to grab at the hem of Kaoru’s sleeve. Admittedly, it doesn’t feel like he desperately _needs_ to be in contact with Kaoru now, but there’s still…something.

 

A shivering tingle goes up Kaoru’s spine, and he turns, resting a hand on Natsume’s hair, stroking it gently. “Mm? You feel better? I don’t suppose you can use your visions to find us a nice Inn nearby…”

 

“Nnh.” Natsume butts his head up into Kaoru’s hand, unabashedly affectionate when it feels so _good_ to be touched. His magic is probably just being odd, after being tamped down so unnaturally. “Not visions, but—I can do a trace to find out where all of the life is concentrated nearby.”

 

“Why are you so useful when every other wizard I know is an idiot?” Kaoru asks fondly. “They all use their magic for like, sculpting the clouds or some shit.”

 

“…because they refuse to be practical?” Natsume sweetly says, batting his eyelashes. “And are old, and silly.”

 

He hikes up one side of his skirts, pulling his dagger free before slicing a thin line down his arm. The blood that wells up is more than enough to use for his cast, a brisk, familiar tracing of runes in the air that lights up lines of magic and life around him in brilliant, glittering detail.

 

“Let’s see—if we head…” He repositions himself, turning bodily around, and pointing his dagger out through the woods. “Northeast. There’s a lot going on there. Everywhere else is just lending itself to animals or small creatures, so civilization can’t be _that_ far off. Sound good?”

 

He turns back to look up at Kaoru, notices the thick, golden cord from his chest, twisted around his arm, straight to Kaoru’s, and just stares, slack-jawed, the gold of it reflecting back into his own eyes.

 

“Uh.” Kaoru blinks at Natsume, standing stock-still, staring at him as if he’s grown a second head. “Is there something on my chest? Other than my very cool brooch holding my cloak on?”

 

Natsume says nothing, and instead reaches out, very deliberately hooking his fingers around that cord—because he _can_ , it’s as solid to him as if it were an actual string—and pulls on it.

 

If Kaoru were forced to explain the sudden sensation currently sweeping through him, he could only liken it to the time he was stabbed in the gut, but by a _very_ pretty girl.

 

It’s the same shocking wrench that drives him to his knees, eyes gone wide as Natsume does something stupid and mean with his fingers, and promptly loses his breakfast on the snow.

 

Natsume instantly lets go, hands flying up. “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t know—I mean, I didn’t realize—ah, shit,” he curses, crouching down next to Kaoru to pull his hair back from his face, his fingers trembling. “Are you okay?”

 

“I don’t know,” Kaoru gasps, grabbing a handful of snow and rubbing it on his face, stuffing a little into his mouth to cleanse the taste. “What…is this revenge for the marks? You _asked_ me to, why are wizards always so crazy?”

 

“It wasn’t revenge for anything!” Natsume frets, kind of frantically petting Kaoru’s hair now. “I didn’t know it would do that! T-there’s…a thing…a loop of magic.” He struggles to put it into words when he wants to say what it _really_ _is_ , what he knows in his gut what it is, but _no no no no no that can’t be it that doesn’t make sense I would’ve known before now!_

 

“Is that good?” Kaoru asks, sitting up on his heels, still looking a little bit green. “Ah, I guess when there’s a mysterious magic thing you can’t explain, it’s not usually good, right? Okay, how bad is it?”

 

Natsume opens his mouth to answer, then shuts it again, biting his lip as he shakes his head, straightening up and taking a step back. “You’re going to hate me,” he faintly says, his heart thudding so fast in his chest that he feels close to passing out.

 

Kaoru’s expression goes from grim amusement to concern in a heartbeat, and he leans forward, grabbing Natsume by the hand, pulling him back. “Hey, what? I wouldn’t hate you, I couldn’t hate you. Never.” Kind of a weird thing to be saying, feeling, to someone he’s known all of a couple weeks, but that’s what his mouth is doing today, apparently.

 

“…but you will.” Natsume’s voice is suddenly very, very small, and very, very worried. “Because…because it’s my fault, it can only be my fault…”

 

“Sweetheart, I have done more stupid, hurtful things than you can ever imagine,” Kaoru says softly, and places a gentle kiss on the back of Natsume’s hand. “Tell me. We’ll fix it.”

 

“What, like how Lord Rei fixed Izumi and Makoto’s?” Natsume’s chest heaves, his hand trembling underneath Kaoru’s lips. “No—no way, it’s too _big_ , I can pull on it and you actually _feel_ it. And it’s all…all coil-y, and…” His breath catches, and stressed tears suddenly well up in his eyes. “I’m s-so sorry. I’m really, really sorry, Kaoru…”

 

Kaoru stares for a long, long minute before the words actually start to process. “You…uh…” He stares again. The snow beneath him melts into his breeches, soaking him icily to the bone. “You’re saying we…I mean, you and me…we have a…no, no, that’s not right, that can’t be. I’m a paladin.”

 

“…I can show it to you,” Natsume whispers. “If you want to see.”

 

“But there’s never been a paladin with a resonant bond,” Kaoru protests, a little helplessly. “There…there’s…what the fuck, my dad is really going to kill me. Fuck. Well, at least you’re a Skybred,” he says, with a shrug and a change of mood.

 

“…N-not true, there was one other recorded one,” Natsume quietly says, slowly sinking down into the snow himself. “Just…one. But…a really…really long time ago.” He looks up, even though meeting Kaoru’s gaze is honestly terrifying right now. “I’m…I don’t know what to do,” he finally admits with a nervous laugh. “You’re—you’re married to Lord Rei. I’m…Wataru’s.” For whatever that’s worth, considering his recent visions.

 

“Nothing to be done.”

 

Kaoru gathers Natsume close, and rests his forehead against Natsume’s, cupping his face. “Nothing to be done, unless you want Rei or Kanata to eat it. And…fuck it. I don’t. Wataru can come try to take you from me.”

 

Natsume’s lower lip wobbles before he throws his arms around Kaoru’s neck, aggressively clinging to him. “You’re…you’re really not mad?” he whispers, burying his fingers into Kaoru’s hair.

 

“That the gods saw fit to tie us together by the heart?” Kaoru asks softly, to the top of Natsume’s head. “I applaud their good taste.”

 

Natsume exhales a hiccuping laugh, because it’s either that or bursting into tears. “Gods, at least it’s you,” he whispers into Kaoru’s neck. “You have a brain _and_ you’re nice to look at.”

 

“The two things I have tried very hard not to lose with age,” Kaoru assures him, then brightens. “Hey, at least we have fairly similar natural life spans!”

 

“Enhanced by magic, it’s probably still about the same.” Natsume slowly sucks in a breath, trying to calm himself as he sits back, trembling where he sits in the snow. “Okay. Okay. I can work with this. We can work with this.”

 

“Heh. You’re going to have to introduce me to Mommy.”

 

Natsume glowers at him. “Not any time soon. We still have to go North. Ugh…I can’t believe this, I’ve never wanted to hold another man’s hand in my _life_ and I did it the first time we talked in that stupid Western camp, I should’ve known. Oh!” He jumps up to his feet, snapping his fingers. “That’s it! The vague telling I did on you, the one about finding your real king if you went North? This is it!”

 

Kaoru’s mouth falls open, and he splutters. “You—what? You’re not my king! If anything…”

 

“It’s the old language they used to use for bonds, before they understood them. You know, because wizards can only be male, and their bonded followed them like kings…I swear to every single god that exists, if you make a joke about queens instead.”

 

“Nah, I’m not Rei.” Kaoru grins. “At least, I promise not to out loud.”

 

Natsume’s mouth purses, his arms folding. _And yet, I’m here, too._

 

“No one has ever been able to talk into my mind like you,” Kaoru says with a sigh. “You’d think I’d have figured it out before now.”

 

“That’s because I am actually the best. Also _also_ , it’s probably because of the bond—“ Oh, saying it out loud is weird, but not bad, and sends a little thrill through him. “We should test that. With the Svalde—I thought their timing was wrong, or they were just being assholes, but I think we were able to actually get past some of their barriers and talk through our bond telepathically. It’s separate of actual telepathy, I found that out after studying Lord Rei and Lord Shu.” Natsume pauses, and then sheepishly offers Kaoru a hand. “But first, maybe get out of the snow. I can dry you off.”

 

“That would be delightful,” Kaoru says, in what he hopes is a gracious tone, and takes the hand, getting to his feet. “You said which way to an Inn? Oh, shit, what powers are we going to get? I just remembered, doesn’t everyone get something different?”

 

“Northeast,” Natsume says, pointing in the exact direction he can still See all of the activity from his summoning. The hand still twined with Kaoru’s glows green with magical fire before he simply lights Kaoru ‘on fire’ with it, sucking away the snow’s moisture and bathing him in warmth. “Strong bonds typically see additional…effects, yes. Some are more useful than others.”

 

“Is this one strong? I—oh, that’s weird, but very convenient, thank you. I assume you’d be able to see it no matter what, because it’s you, am I wrong?”

 

Natsume nods, brushing himself off and smoothing his skirts. “Yes. I’m the only known wizard that can. Lord Rei can See them if he touches me, but that means it has to be me, still. Lots of wizard can see magical constructs in different ways, but usually only their own, and…I can see all of them. But I digress.”

 

He hikes up his cloak further, creating a more solid barrier against the cold. “Remember how I said that Lord Rei and Lord Shu’s kind of…coils up around them?”

 

“Mm, yeah. It sounds really uncomfortable, really,” Kaoru says, linking his arm with Natsume’s, starting off to the Northeast. “And the king and former emperor have a straight golden line, right?”

 

“Mmhm. Ours is loopy. As in…it’s all wrapped up around my arm and yours, and then connects to each of us in the usual way. So…whatever that means.” Natsume sighs, tilting his head back to stare up at the grey sky through the trees. “At least I don’t feel like I _have_ to stop everything I’m doing to have sex with you.”

 

Kaoru considers the thought for a moment, then nods slowly. “I mean, I’d obviously like to. But no more than before. Hells, no more than the time I first saw you at my house. I just like you.”

 

“Well—y-yes, you know, a normal amount of wanting to do that,” Natsume huffs. “Not a nonfunctional amount. Right, as I was saying. Neither Lord Rei nor Lord Shu are terribly gifted telepaths, but their bond grants them that to an unsettling degree, so that’s highly convenient for them. I think I probably lend you a bit of help here without realizing it, but…honestly, I can talk to _anyone_ telepathically, so that’s not exactly surprising.”

 

“Right, we were doing that before.” Kaoru pauses. “Was that before? Or has this been going on longer than we thought? I don’t know how they decide to happen.”

 

“It probably happened…at some point, and we didn’t notice. Maybe it was while we were in the Svalde’s place,” Natsume wearily says. “Whatever the case, who knows? At least I…” His cheeks flush, his mouth shutting firmly.

 

“At least it didn’t happen with someone I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with,” Kaoru says gently, giving Natsume’s arm a squeeze. “What was it you told me last night, about how it’s good to be embarrassing?”

 

“…only if it’s about good things,” Natsume mumbles, his head knocking briefly against Kaoru’s shoulder as he returns the squeeze to Kaoru’s hand. “So…fine. At least I…already really liked you. A lot. And you aren’t an idiot.”

 

“That’s the second time in ten minutes you’ve told me you like me because I’m not a drooling idiot. Why are you nicer in the Svalde? We’re going back.”

 

“Eh? But it’s a compliment! It’s the biggest compliment! My greatest fear ever is— _was_ being bonded to a drooling idiot!”

 

“It’s _really_ not the biggest compliment,” Kaoru says dryly. “Watch. Natsume, it’s fine to be bonded to you, because at least you’re not completely hideous.”

 

“Well, I mean, you’re accurate. I’m not. But I didn’t say it like _that!_ I said you have a brain and you’re not an idiot and you’re nice to look at!”

 

“And you,” Kaoru says gallantly, “have two arms, and you’re not ugly, and you let me have sex with you. A match made in heaven.”

 

Natsume huffs loudly, pulling his arm free from Kaoru’s—then abruptly regrets that, and latches himself back to him, shivering at how he suddenly seems so much _colder_. “You’re stressing me out,” he mutters. “I’ll say something nicer, just don’t pick on me. Please.”

 

Kaoru sighs, and wraps his arm around Natsume’s shoulders. “Don’t fret so much,” he murmurs. “Do you want me to be honest, and sappy, and embarrass you by listing your virtues? I will. Happily, I have little shame, and I’m glad to be here with you. I’ll sing it, if you want.”

 

“…That might be a little too embarrassing. I don’t need you to praise me all the time…even if you do have a really nice singing voice.” Natsume heaves a shaky sigh, trying to relax again. “Right. All I can determine right now is that our bond really wants us to cuddle. I don’t hate that, but it’s pretty useless…”

 

“Kind of embarrassing,” Kaoru agrees. “If anything is embarrassing, it’s me stopping a battle to try and get a headpat from you, but that’s…kind of how I feel right now, isn’t that stupid? Aw, man, even Rei’s going to make fun of me.”

 

“For what it’s worth,” Natsume says after a moment of struggling with that mental image, attempting to find it anything _but_ intensely adorable, “I would absolutely give you a headpat in the middle of a battle.”

 

Kaoru makes a little gurgling noise, then nods, cheeks pink. “I’ll…try not to need one. That’s bad for my image, I think.”

 

“So hopefully it does something more useful than what it’s doing right now,” Natsume swiftly continues. “Because this is just silly. I’ll have to play with it a bit more. I won’t grab it like before, though—at least, not without warning you. Sorry about that.”

 

“Yeah, warning would be pretty good for something like that,” Kaoru says faintly, remembering the sensation. “It felt like you slit me open and grabbed my spine. Too weird, don’t like.”

 

Natsume makes a mental note of that, wanting to make sure he records this entire research project properly. “I won’t do it again, I promise. Do you think—“

 

_“You know what happens when no one believes in me, Rei.”_

 

_Blood-stained, all particularly obvious against pale skin and hair and snow, Rei’s frantic shout of protest before he’s simply—_

 

Natsume sucks in a sharp breath, shaking his head once when the vision flutters away as quickly as it had come. “What was I saying? Sorry. As naked as I felt without magic…I have to admit, I didn’t miss that,” he mutters, heart thudding uneasily as he suddenly remembers every horrible thing he’s Seen, all at once. “Ah, goodbye real sleep. I’ll miss you.”

 

“I’d say we can always go back,” Kaoru says doubtfully, “but I’m not sure I’d want to, even with the benefits. Maybe we could come up with our own anti-magic room eventually. You’re smart enough. And is it just me, or is that bird just not shutting the fuck up?”

 

“I don’t want an anti-magic room. I just want to sleep for real,” Natsume laments, staring up at the bird in question and its veritable _screaming_ where it remains perched in the trees _._ “Noisy. Oi. Quit being noisy,” he irritably tells the bird, as if it will just listen to him.

 

The birdsong falls suddenly, eerily silent. A moment later, a blue bird, too large to be a bluebird, too simply _blue_ and…bluebird-shaped to be much of anything else, swoops down from the tree, flutters in front of Natsume for a moment, lets out a whistling chirrup, then zips away into the sky, as fast as its wings will carry it.

 

“Must be near its nest,” Kaoru says, squinting up at the trees. “That was a fat one, huh?”

 

“Mm…yeah,” Natsume distractedly murmurs, staring after it for a moment, eyes unfocused.

 

How odd.

 

Tentatively, against his better judgement, he tries to reach out for Wataru—something that usually, strangely does work, even across the world. That is usually the case with any Nightcloak, for reasons none of them can quite explain.

 

Nothing reaches back.

 

“…I really can’t wait to take a bath,” he suddenly says, trying to distract himself from the strange feeling in his gut. “A real bath. And to really wash my hair, and get it out of the way again.”

 

“Well,” Kaoru says, oblivious to Natsume’s discomfort. “My new, true king’s wish is my command.”

 

They walk Northeast for hours, until the muddy, snowy trail finally melts into a proper road. Up ahead, smoke curls from a chimney, the promise of warmth and safety so invigorating that Kaoru starts walking faster, despite his sodden weariness. “A real bed, a nice one, not that horrible cot the Svalde gave us,” he says with a dreamy sigh. “This is going to be so good. Mind you, I have half a mind to send them a very strict letter about that treatment, once I get back to my family’s holdings.”

 

“Somehow, I find it charming when you get so uppity out of the blue,” Natsume says, shivering almost constantly now, in spite of the constant attempts to keep himself warm magically. There _is_ only so much he can do when exhausted, stressed, and when his mind keeps wandering away to give him tiny hiccups of visions. “Like a real blue-blooded paladin lord. Why couldn’t Lord Rei have had me be _your_ fake wife for years? Oh, here, by the way,” he adds moodily, untying a surprisingly heavy pouch from his belt, which jangles and clinks as he holds it out for Kaoru. “You talk to people. I don’t want to, I’ll See things.”

 

“I _have_ my own—oh, wait, right,” Kaoru says, feeling suddenly foolish as he takes the purse. “Well, this isn’t a common thing, I’m _planning_ to have plenty of money for our lives in the future.”

 

“Sure, whatever. I have holdings in the Isles that the king can’t touch, either through his taxes or the Academy. Keep your money there if you’re smart.”

 

“Everyone knows you keep your money in the Isles to hide it from the crown. Even my title to the manor at High Harbor is kept there.” Kaoru smiles, and brushes Natsume’s hair behind his ear. “Where do you want to live, by the way? Assuming we make it out of this. High Harbor? The Hinterlands? The Isles? The Capitol? The Sandlands? Somewhere else? My family’s got property most of those places. We can go visit each of them, if you want.”

 

Natsume looks at him quizzically, as if pleasantly surprised he’s taking this _so_ seriously. “You…you mean that. You mean that in a ‘we’re actually going to live together and be a couple’ way.”

 

Kaoru shrugs, unconcerned. “I’m not one to fight against the currents of fate just because I can. We’re going to be miserable unless we’re together, right? And I love being around you. Seems like a smart choice. And like I said, I’ve got access to a lot of houses that are just sitting vacant. Might as well put some love in them.”

 

Even if he doesn’t say as much, Natsume certainly _looks_ pleased by this explanation, and huddles down a bit more into his Nightcloak, cheeks faintly pink. “Mm. Well. Somewhere closer to the Academy. I have to work still. So definitely not the Sandlands, or the Isles, or the Hinterlands. I kind of hate the Capitol, even though it’s so close, but if needs must…”

 

“Or we can build a new house.” Kaoru’s boots hit cobblestones under the snow, and they round the first row of outbuildings, his eyes searching for the crossed spoon sign that signifies a tavern, and likely, an Inn. “Somewhere that’s just ours, that we don’t have to see any ghosts in.”

 

“I don’t hate that, I suppose…but I’m also not afraid of ghosts,” Natsume confidently says, even as he hisses and shrinks back at the first sign of civilization—an old man raking dead leaves from his yard.

 

“Don’t hiss at the nice man, he’ll think you’re an unsociable lady.”

 

“You’d hiss, too, if you had to See something about every person you’ve ever met,” Natsume mumbles, latching himself firmly back to Kaoru’s arm.

 

“What’s wrong with the nice old man?” Kaoru asks, scandalized.

 

“He’s cheating on his wife. She’ll find out later.”

 

“Oh, is that all? I thought you meant he’d done something really bad.”

 

“Listen. I don’t know about you, but I _don’t_ want to see naked old men.”

 

“Right, gross, but he’s not, like, a _murderer_.”

 

“ _He_ isn’t, as far as I know. But I’ve Seen things like that before, and someone like you would never know.” Natsume huffs, burying his face into Kaoru’s shoulder. “Big crowds are the worst. Everyone’s thoughts just go everywhere, and I can See things if I as much as look at a person…”

 

“So you’re saying you want our house to be on a hill, away from people,” Kaoru says, steering the conversation back towards more desirable topics. “I can manage that.”

 

“Mmm. Yes. Sounds good, at the end of a long day,” Natsume mutters. “Peace and quiet. You petting me.”

 

“Your head resting on my shoulder,” Kaoru says softly, spotting an Inn and quickening his steps. “Your hand in mine. Your terrible cooking in my mouth. Is that fair? I assumed you were a terrible cook, but I’m happy to be wrong.”

 

“…..I’m good at baking.”

 

“Cute. I’m not. But I’m _great_ at eating when someone bakes.”

 

“I’ll bake you things,” Natsume mutters, embarrassed and not exactly sure why. “But you _have_ to eat them. I don’t bake for just anyone.”

 

“Of course I’ll eat them! Ah, what’s your specialty? I’m already drooling.”

 

“…Cakes. The…the really fluffy ones, you know? So you can have a big one and eat all of it and not feel like you’re going to die. That’s the idea, at any rate…” It’s only fair that he pulls his cloak’s hood over his head and most of his face now. “Whatever. I want a room and a bath and then we can talk about more things.”

 

“This looks promising,” Kaoru says, pointing to a cute, squat little house, and strolling up to the door, unlatching it. “Hello? I saw your sign, I’m looking for a room…”

 

“Ah! Oh.” The young woman darning socks at the hearth looks up eagerly, then seems to wilt in disappointment. “Yeah, there’s a room, five nobles for the night if you want it private, two each to share.”

 

Kaoru raises an eyebrow. “Were you expecting someone else, my dear?”

 

The young woman flushes, and folds her hands in her lap. “We had a couple of travelers a few weeks ago, they said they might be back soon…we don’t get many up here, as you can see. You and your lady should have privacy, Milord.”

 

Natsume opens his mouth, considering a question, then bites it back. He’s learned, especially in rural areas, that the less he opens his mouth, the better. Then he can simply be passed off as a woman, and is ignored—a far more helpful thing, in many cases. Instead, he snuggles into Kaoru’s arm. _See if you can find out who._

 

“A couple of travelers all the way up here?” Kaoru asks, taking a step forward. She looks up at him, then down at Natsume, then away. Kaoru takes the hint. “Sweetheart, why don’t you go take a soak in the tub? I’ll be up when I’m ready.” _Just go with it, this is how men in the Hinterlands who travel with women who aren’t their wives act._

 

Natsume flips his hood down before picking the direction he smells bath salts in, and disappears without further complaint. _Who and when is the most important. I might be able to See something from it. Oh, and see if you can finagle a few extra blankets out of her, it’s still chilly in here and I don’t want to use too much magic indoors._

 

_I’ll let you know when I’m done. I’m not as good at this as you, I can’t think one thing and say another._

 

Half an hour later, the door to the bath opens, and Kaoru shrugs off his cloak, hanging it by the door. “Please tell me that my beautiful dragon can keep the water nice and hot for me. I deserve a soak.”

 

Natsume barely lifts his head from where it’s propped upon the side of the bathing tub, arms dangling out of it to maintain that perfect balance of extremely hot, steaming water versus cooler, crisp air on his body. “Consider me your temperature gauge,” he languidly says, soaking wet hair loose and dripping down his back to disappear into the water, looking perhaps troublingly like rivulets of blood that then blossom on the water’s surface. “Cold or hot, hot or cold, however you like it. Was the lady useful?” 

 

“She was useful and very sweet, and cute enough to make me realize that I’m neutered,” Kaoru says cheerfully, shucking his dirty clothes and hoisting himself into the bath with a long, eager sigh at the heat. “This’ll be too hot in a minute, but it’s _really_ good right now.”

 

“Hmm? Neutered?” Natsume absently repeats. “In what way?”

 

“The only way that matters.” Kaoru shrugs a shoulder, eyes sliding shut as he starts to bliss out, sinking down into the steamy water. “I tried to flirt, it didn’t work. I mean, it worked on her, but I just…” He looks up at the ceiling, amused at himself. “Nothing. No spark, no interest. All I was thinking about was how glad I was I was going to see you again soon. Come sit with me.”

 

Natsume turns his head, looking Kaoru up and down, seeking out some trace of annoyance or irritation about the situation and…finding none, relaxes. Slowly, he slides over, slinking up against Kaoru’s side to nuzzle underneath his chin. “Sorry,” he apologizes all the same, because it _is_ his fault, and he doesn’t _not_ feel guilty still. He reaches across Kaoru, plucking up the cloth he’d left for him, dunks it into the steaming water, and sets about the task of carefully washing away Kaoru’s week-old grime. “Tell me instead how she was useful.”

 

“Two travelers, just before the new moon, so…a day or two before you rescued me from the Hilbrandt. A tall, extremely handsome blond man who paid in coin that vanished the next day, and another man that she clearly didn’t care about at all.” Kaoru’s arms rest on the walls of the tub, his head tipping back gratefully at the ministrations. “Your hands are perfect.”

 

At least Kaoru can’t see the face he immediately makes at the thought of who came through this place. “The fact anyone thinks the previous Emperor is attractive makes me want to off myself,” Natsume mutters, careful not to let his irritation roughen his touch, no matter how he’d like to stab something. “I’m assuming they were _delightful_ guests, aside from disappearing payments.”

 

“She was quite concerned that they might be wounded,” Kaoru drawls, “since they left blood on the sheets. I assured her I’ve already broken you in, so she won’t have to worry about that.”

 

“Gross,” Natsume lightly says, throwing the cloth over Kaoru’s face. “On all counts. Thank you, I did not need that—“

 

_Eichi’s eyes are always so, so blue, backlit like lanterns in his skull, glowing and bright. “You aren’t mine, but I need you to behave like you are. If you want to save him, to pull him away from the drude—that’s what you have to do.”_

 

Natsume shivers in spite of the water’s heat, and shifts away, reaching for his wet hair to scoop it up and twist it up and off the back of his neck for a moment.

 

“Vision?” Kaoru asks quietly, stroking Natsume’s shoulder with the backs of his fingers. “Want to talk about it?”

 

“Just…a snippet. The previous Emperor talking to…I don’t know. Someone. About saving Nagisa.” Natsume shivers again. “Even if it’s not me he’s talking to, it always feels like he’s staring _at me_ …like he knows I’m going to see this stuff, even though it’s in the future. That’s not possible, of course, but I hate it. I hate the way he looks at people sometimes. At me.”

 

“I just keep reminding myself he’s not as smart as he thinks he is,” Kaoru says with a sigh. “Otherwise I’ll start getting real nervous about how powerful he is. Hey, can you check on Rei for me? If you can?”

 

“Yes.” He’s not thinking about how stressful it is that Wataru hasn’t answered him. It makes sense with every vision he’s had, but he hates it, he _hates it_. “I don’t know how close he is, so I probably can’t talk to him, but—if you just want to know if he’s okay, I can do that.”

 

“Yeah. I don’t…” Kaoru flutters a hand vaguely. “What would I say? I don’t know. I just want him to be okay.”

 

“I’m sure he is.” To prove it, Natsume reaches out, a tentative, careful touch towards Rei that, to his surprise, is immediately snatched up with far more force. He blinks a few times as his magic is all but squeezed, kneaded at as if being tested for its existence entirely, then held onto protectively even with a questioning probe to follow. “Ahh…I think we might’ve worried him,” he sheepishly says. “When we went with the Svalde, and they made my magic go poof.”

 

“A little worry is good for him,” Kaoru says, letting the bathwater relax his mind as well as his body. “How far is he?”

 

“Not as far as I thought. Something must’ve held him up. I mean, snowstorms are terrible up here this time of year, so that alone…” Natsume chews at his lower lip. “I can ask him to turn back, if you want? We can reconvene, discuss, then go together. Or we could try to catch up and meet him. Lord Kanata and Wataru are supposed to be with him, too, but…”

 

“You’re the man with the plan. Or the visions of the plan, at least,” Kaoru says, waving a hand again. “I just want to kill a drude. We’ll do what you want.”

 

“…I don’t have a plan.” Natsume looks away, letting his hair drip back down into the water when he releases it. “Wataru didn’t answer when I called for him. I know I shouldn’t’ve tried, considering everything I’ve Seen, but I couldn’t not try. I…” He shrugs. “I was going to ditch you as soon as I could, and go North to catch up with Lord Rei myself. But then this bond thing happened, and Wataru not answering happened, so I…don’t know.”

 

“Then we’ll make a new plan together,” Kaoru says quietly. He lets his hand fall into the water, and grabs Natsume’s, squeezing it. “And we’ll be really good at it. And maybe we’ll change destiny a little, who knows?”

 

“It doesn’t work like that,” Natsume wearily says, even as he flops back against Kaoru’s side. “You can’t change fate. You can change your path to it, but not the end result. I can’t believe women don’t make you hard now.”

 

“Shut uuuup, maybe it was just that one,” Kaoru groans, more than happy to let Natsume change the subject. “Maybe she wasn’t flirting right. Surely this cannot be.”

 

“Maybe it’s broken completely. The Svalde might’ve done that.”

 

“It?” Kaoru looks down. “No, no, he’s not broken.”

 

“Ah. You’re so certain.” Natsume pats his head. “Good boy.”

 

“Pat me a little lower down and I’ll prove it to you, sweetheart.”

 

Natsume spares a glance to the bathing room’s doors. “Here?” he asks, scandalized. “I think not, what if someone walks in? I don’t want to be kicked out. I might look like a woman when I’m dressed appropriately, but…”

 

Kaoru laughs, and lets his head fall back again. “Later,” he agrees. “I was just telling you. Around you, it all works just fine.”

 

“Well—well, good.” Natsume relaxes again, sinking down further into the water. After a moment’s pause, he can’t help but absently wonder aloud: “Do you think sex will be better with the bond? Or just…weirder…”

 

“I think I’m pretty excited to find out. You?”

 

“…Obviously,” Natsume mutters, his cheeks pink for reasons other than the hot water. “The way Lord Rei and Lord Shu act…that’s an egregious example, but still. Most non-wizard humans can’t feel their half of the bond. Like the king. Lord Kanata’s bonded comes to mind…and neither Izumi nor Makoto knew about theirs. So you’re already a bit of a special case. I _think_ that’s good?”

 

“But…can I feel it, though?” Kaoru asks, curious. “If I only feel it when you’re tugging on it, isn’t that the same as you doing magic to me?”

 

“I don’t think so. Maybe ‘feel it’ is the wrong phrasing. Being…aware of it, perhaps? Like how your dick doesn’t want to work around girls now, apparently. The king obviously still is plenty capable of being with other people.”

 

Kaoru frowns. “Hey. Yeah. What the hell? I mean, just so you know, it’s not a problem with my dick. It’s my heart.”

 

“Maybe you’re just a better man than they are,” Natsume says, intensely pleased in spite of how _silly_ that is, really. “Chiaki is supposedly like that, too, but…mmmm.”

 

“He’s definitely a good man. Way better than me,” Kaoru assures Natsume. “Moral compass, and all that.”

 

“Mmm. I was going to say that supposedly, he can’t sleep with anyone else either, but that’s a lie.” Natsume fiddles with the floating ends of his hair in the water. “You also have a moral compass. More than you realize, maybe.”

 

“You think? I’ve pretty much spent my whole life…doing whatever I wanted,” Kaoru says softly, staring up at the ceiling again. “Not caring what my family thought, not caring if I was being an inconvenience. Maybe I have one, but it doesn’t always point north.”

 

“But you don’t go out of your way to harm anyone. That’s the difference between you and someone like the previous Emperor, and why you’re a good person and he’s not.”

 

“Uh…I’m pretty sure that makes me a barely-adequate person,” Kaoru says, amused. “I think going out of your way to harm someone is as bad as it gets.”

 

Natsume huffs, and promptly slaps a hand into the water to splash Kaoru thoroughly, letting the full weight of it hit instead of his altered weight to create maximum spray. “This is why I don’t compliment you,” he bluntly says before rising, wringing out his hair on Kaoru’s face for good measure.

 

“Eh?? What did I do this time?” Kaoru protests, following Natsume pathetically out of the bath, grabbing a soft cloth hanging nearby to towel off. “I thought I was being pretty sanguine about myself as a human! See if I introspect around you again…”

 

“Eh?? What did I do this time?” Kaoru protests, following Natsume pathetically out of the bath, grabbing a soft cloth hanging nearby to towel off. “I thought I was being pretty sanguine about myself as a human! See if I introspect around you again…”

 

 

“I’m telling you to think more highly of yourself, idiot!” Natsume snatches up his cloak, whipping it around his shoulders and over his hair, which almost instantly leaves him dry to the touch with his hair even frizzing a bit. “Aren’t you descended from the most exalted line of paladins? Being that sort of nobility means you’re going to inconvenience people by simply existing, but you still have a duty to not be a piece of shit, and to be proud of yourself for not being like that in a world full of terrible people! So—I don’t know, do it or something!”

 

 

“Thanks, try to be less vague next time!” Kaoru protests. “I’ve had that lineage driven into my brain by some really obnoxious people my whole life—don’t be friends with that boy, his parents are trash, you’re from an exalted line of paladins, ignore what the priests say about tolerance, you’re the only one who gets to decide if something’s right or wrong, let your heritage be what guides you, don’t worry if you step on some toes doing your duty, if the peasants really cared about justice, they’d know their duties—so it’s fine if we collect too many tithes, and it’s fine if we ignore some people who need our help, because we’re from an exalted line, and we do good in the world, so it’s fine to throw our weight around!”

 

He realizes he’s breathing hard, chest heaving, face red, and he looks away, embarrassed. “But instead of trying to do anything about it, I left all that behind. Because it felt too big to fix. And it’s a lot easier and more fun to say that I’m enjoying myself, so as long as I’m not hurting people, I’m coming out ahead. But that’s a lazy, cowardly thing to do, and…you make me want to be better than that.”

 

 

“One of the first things out of your mouth when you realized we had a bond was ‘at least you’re Skybred.’ Which…isn’t even true, not really, I can’t do the things dragons can do, but paladins care, so you care, because you’re thinking about paladin ideals all the time, whether you want to or not.”

 

Natsume rakes his fingers back through his hair, weaving the first braid together himself, then letting his magic copy the motion to do the rest. “You’ve spent a long time with demons,” he finally says, having to work up the actual courage to say it aloud when it definitely feels like an insult to a number of people he cares about. “And that…makes it easier to do things that are…questionable. It’s the same for me, but…I’ve seen Lord Rei do things that really make me realize that it’s…not okay to just blindly agree sometimes. Even though I did, and kept my mouth shut.” He swallows, shrugging. “The end doesn’t always justify the means. Sometimes it does—but not always. So your exalted family name isn’t always right, and neither is the opposite side. I figure if we’re both attempting to help regardless of either side, while also trying to improve the side we want to be on, that’s as good as it gets. That’s…all I meant before.”

 

 

Kaoru takes a deep breath, then lets it out again, and holds out his hand. “Let’s figure it out together,” he offers. “There’s…a lot of really fucked up stuff going on. But I’d rather have someone by my side to check me if I get too far out of line. And I’ll do it for you, too.”

 

 

“You’re forgetting something,” Natsume quietly says, putting his hand in Kaoru’s. “I’m human. So I actually like paladins—or at least, the concept of them. I’m not going to tell you to step off so I can do demon things.”

 

 

“What if,” Kaoru asks slowly, squeezing Natsume’s hand, “I try to be what I think a paladin should, instead of what my family would want? What kind of man do you think I’d be, then?”

 

“…About the same,” Natsume says after a moment’s consideration, staring up at him. “But more dashing. And a lot bossier with Lord Rei. So, good.”

 

“Ah, speaking of Rei…I hope he doesn’t try to skin me for this.” Kaoru gives Natsume a lopsided smile. “You are sort of his…protege, after all.” Best not to say _baby_ , after what he knows has gone on.

 

“Eh? But…he’s _your_ husband. I was worried he’d be upset with _me_.” Natsume pauses, then sighs, turning away to scoop up his clothing—all properly washed, scrubbed, then dried by the use of magic. “He’s the one that first sent you to speak to me. He probably _wanted_ this.”

 

Kaoru snorts. “He gave up his right to be annoyed with me finding a resonant bond a while ago. Though, I’ll deserve it if he’s annoyed, I tried really hard not to be, but…well. Hey, dry mine too?”

 

“Bonds are notorious life ruiners. Or at least, life upsetters,” Natsume pragmatically says, snatching up Kaoru’s clothing to first douse it in the steaming water, giving them a good scrub for good measure. “You are _not_ used to traveling with a useful wizard, are you.”

 

“I’m used to traveling with a wizard who accidentally reminds the Inn we’re staying at that it used to be trees, and waking up in the middle of sprouting branches. No, I’m not used to laundry magic.”

 

“It’s not laundry magic. It’s just… _magic_ , ugh. Everyone is useless,” Natsume firmly determines, wringing out each piece of clothing before magicking it all dry with a brisk snap of his fingers (that looks like it’s about to burn each piece entirely with green flame, but ultimately, does not). “Lord Rei, in this realm, has about the capacity to control his magic as a newly bloomed Nooncloak. With that in mind, I try not to be annoyed, but Lord Shu and I want to strangle him sometimes…”

 

“I’ll leave the magic to you,” Kaoru says, shrugging into his newly clean clothes. “Ooh, they smell fresh.” He reaches out, and touches Natsume’s cheek gently. “I knew a girl who had the Sight once. Not very strong, nothing like you. She took opium at night to sleep. Have you tried that?”

 

“Opium, wine, beer, lots and lots of different kinds of mushrooms, even Shadewine.” Natsume offers him a wry smile as he steps into his own skirts, tying everything into place. “Wataru tried to spell me once. It didn’t work. The only thing that has ever worked was completely sealing my magic—Lord Rei and Wataru both were in on that, when they brought me from the Isles—and then, of course, the Svalde.”

 

A shiver runs up Kaoru’s spine. “I hate thinking about you suffering through all of that at night, though. Nighttime is supposed to be _fun_ time.”

 

“With great power comes great suffering…or is that not quite the saying? Ah, whatever. I’m pretty used to it, for what it’s worth.” Natsume gathers up the last of his things, and latches back to Kaoru’s arm. “And it’s not like all of my visions are terrible. Just…the ones recently are.”

 

“How do I give you a good one? Talk about good things, maybe? Ah, let’s see, let’s talk about what our house is going to be like. I want a garden, but a sensible one, that a human can tend. And a big, firm bed.”

 

“A firm one, specifically? Not a fan of squishy beds that swallow you whole?” Natsume absently plucks up the mass of his hair, twists up half of it, and presses it to the back of his head, where it stays, for the most part, courtesy of some unseen magical tie. “Ah, I missed being able to do that.”

 

Kaoru watches with a fond smile. “My back started hating squishy beds about…oh, eighty years ago or so. Dunno why, but now I’d rather sleep on a rock than a cloud. No visions?”

 

“Nope. It works to talk about good things…sometimes.”

 

Unbidden, Kaoru’s mind reminds him that it would only work if the good thing was actually going to happen. That thought chills him, and he looks away. “Which way is our room? I didn’t even ask.”

 

“That consumed by lust for a cute lady? How very like you. It’s this way.” Natsume yanks open the door, scowling at how it sticks from all of the steam, and leads the way. “Don’t act so depressed about it. Prophecy is fickle and annoying.”

 

“Quit trying to read my mind, I’m not depressed!” Kaoru protests. “I just want to know for sure that we’re getting a happy future, wouldn’t that be nice to know before a battle?”

 

“You _looked_ depressed. I’m not that rude, I don’t poke around in other people’s minds without asking!” Never mind that he absolutely threatened to do as much, but that’s not the point. “It would be nice, yes, but I can’t force visions to show up, good or bad. That’s what makes it _aberrant_ ,” Natsume says, wiggling one hand’s fingers as he opens their bedroom door with the turn of a key. “Very spooky and uncontrollable, the worst of the worst.”

 

“Ah, I see. _Very_ spooky. My—“ Kaoru pauses, and flushes pink. “Sorry. Don’t be mad if I slip up and call you my bride, it’s…a habit.”

 

Natsume pauses, glancing over his shoulder at Kaoru. “I don’t care,” he bluntly says. “I know I’m not a woman, you know I’m not a woman. You can call me things, so long as they’re cute.”

 

Kaoru’s shoulders relax slightly. “All right. So long as you know I’m not…trying to say anything. You do confuse me, though. I’ve never liked a man this much, bond or no bond.”

 

Natsume blinks back at him, perplexed. “…You’re married to Lord Rei,” he reminds Kaoru, locking the door behind them both. He collapses down onto the foot of the bed, satisfied that it doesn’t creak too loudly underneath his (notably modified) weight.

 

“He turns himself into a woman,” Kaoru explains wearily. “Most of the time we’re…you know. Intimate. He’s very convincing. That’s how we met.”

 

“…Wait. _Really?_ ”

 

“Yep. Lady Reina. The love of my life.” Kaoru’s voice is a little rueful. “And she’s not even real.”

 

Natsume leans back onto his hands, taken aback. “I…hm. I thought…that name on the marriage certificate was…I don’t know. Not…that. Do you…do you only like women, really?” These are the sorts of questions he probably should have asked awhile ago.

 

“Eh…”

 

The question makes Kaoru shift, sitting on the edge of the bed, fiddling with the edge of the sheets. “I used to think so. But I think that’s probably because my family really, really listens to the priests about that kind of stuff—two men together, you know? Whereas, they don’t give a shit what the priests say about tolerance and helping the needy, but whatever. I’ll sleep with men, but I definitely just…man, there’s nothing about women I don’t love.”

 

“I mean. Women are absolutely superior to men in every way, if we’re talking on a basic level of existence sort of thing,” Natsume says, staring straight ahead and pulling on a braid of his hair, then releasing it, then pulling it again. “In the Isles…if you’re a man that likes other men…that’s good.”

 

“Yeah? What’s good about that?” Kaoru asks, his voice just a little bleak.

 

“Well…you’re not a threat, for starters.” Natsume grimaces. “This probably isn’t helping.”

 

“What do you mean, a threat? You mean, to women? How low is your opinion of men on your island, seriously…”

 

“…Very. Lower than you’re thinking. You’re a Mainlander, so they wouldn’t’ve said as much to you.” Natsume hesitates, fiddling with the ties of his cloak before untying it and letting it slide off his shoulders before pulling it into his lap and folding it. “It was…troublesome, for my mother to have a son.”

 

Kaoru stares at Natsume for a moment, then nods slowly, understanding. “My family didn’t want me, either, if it helps,” he offers wryly. “That sucks.”

 

“She _wanted_ me. Except…it was a problem for me to be a boy. She didn’t tell anyone, all the way up until I bloomed. When I say my mother was a high priestess…I mean…she was _the_ High Priestess of Redwater. Her pregnancy alone was a big deal, let alone her having a very gifted child. So, um. Congratulations on being a terrible disappointment with me, I suppose?”

 

“At least you’re not alone.” At this point in his life, Kaoru can think of little else that would frighten him more than being alone after all of this. “Am I ever going to be able to meet your parents? You can meet mine if you want to, but I don’t know why you would.”

 

“…If you really want to meet my mother, you can,” Natsume carefully says. “She _might_ not cut your head off for a ritual. I honestly have no idea who my father is, though.”

 

“And you never tried to look?” Kaoru asks, shifting closer so they’re still pressed against each other. “I’d think that with your magic, it would be easy to find out, if you wanted to.”

 

Natsume blinks up at him. “Ah. Right, Mainlanders care,” he mutters, reminding himself aloud. “On the Isles, men have absolutely no claim over their offspring. There’s no marriage. If a woman wants for the father of her child to be involved, then the policy is ‘do it quietly and don’t tell anyone.’ So if I went and looked…it would be very inappropriate. And weird.”

 

“…Oh. And is that…you don’t mind?” Kaoru tries to wrap his mind around it, and shrugs. “Well, I’ve known a hundred men brought up by just mother when their daddies went off and died in war, obviously women do the most work anyway.”

 

“Children born in the Isles are extremely self-sufficient, you’ll find. The coddling mess that Mainlanders are put through makes me want to scream every time I see it.”

 

“You wouldn’t say that if you could see how we do it—or did it,” Kaoru amends. “For all I know, it’s different now. But paladins don’t…really change much with the times. Comes from being long-lived. There’s a tradition that putting a baby in the snow for an hour every day makes it stronger, and that’s just the smallest bit of it.”

 

“I retract. Paladins aren’t like normal Mainlanders. It’s like how Northerners aren’t, either.” Natsume exhales, and then slowly flops backwards, shutting his eyes. “So…you probably really wish I was a woman, too, huh.”

 

“Natsume.”

 

Kaoru turns, and takes Natsume’s hands, squeezing them gently. “I don’t know if it’s the bond. I can’t tell. I probably won’t ever be able to tell. But I literally cannot imagine you being anything other than you are, and I can’t imagine wanting you any more than I do right now.”

 

“…Okay. It’s probably the bond,” Natsume says with a tense laugh. “But I guess you did like me well enough to sleep with me without it, huh.”

 

“In the Svalde, was that without it?” Kaoru asks, blinking. “Because if so, I liked you a hell of a lot before it was there.”

 

“I…I _think_ that was without it?” Natsume blinks back at him, his head tilting. “I absolutely thought you had…I don’t know. Classified me as ‘child only’ back at the Western camp. And yet you _still_ flirted with me, and I…nngh.”

 

“Literally the first time I ever saw you, I told Rei we should have a threesome,” Kaoru says bluntly. “Or rather, a foursome, because that’s when that Souma kid was with you.”

 

Natsume slowly rolls, burying his face down into the bed. “I can’t comment on that. The threesome part, at least. Souma is…so odd…”

 

“But he’s so cute,” Kaoru says wistfully. “I always wanted him to come around to my personal cuteness. And now he’s all married off.”

 

“So are you, you know…”

 

“Well, _yeah_ , but he’s got that sense of honor thing…”

 

“What I’m getting out of this is that you _do_ like guys that look like girls, or are especially beautiful.”

 

“If I can’t tell the difference from behind, I’m probably happy, yeah.”

 

“You’re the worst, actually.”

 

“What’s so bad about knowing what I like? You tell me, what do you like in a man? Or do you like women?”

 

“It’s not bad knowing what you like, it’s the embarrassing way you say it sometimes…but I understand you have no shame,” Natsume huffs, pulling a pillow over before starting to slowly worm his way into the bed properly. “I’m not interested in women like that.”

 

“Have you ever been with one? I’m not saying you’d change your mind if you did,” Kaoru adds hastily. “Just curious.”

 

Natsume shakes his head. “I haven’t. It’s not like the idea disgusts me or anything. It just…feels like nothing to me? A woman kissed me once, and…” He shrugs a shoulder as he curls up onto his side. “Eh. Give me your cloak again, I liked that.”

 

“That’s what it felt like for me today,” Kaoru says slowly, handing over his cloak, tucking it around Natsume’s narrow shoulders. “When I was talking to that girl. Like nothing. Like—like she was my sister or something.”

 

“Mmhm. That’s how it is. Like, ‘how _could_ I be attracted to this’? That sort of thing. I don’t know. I know the priests in this country think that’s gross or whatever, but literally no one cares in the Isles.” Natsume snuggles down into Kaoru’s cloak, inhaling the scent deeply. “But…insofar as men go…” He pauses, cheeks pink. “Tall.”

 

“Damn. Am I tall enough? You’re short, at least…”

 

“Nnn. Yes. You are. Um. And strong. Broad chests. And, ah. Long hair…”

 

Kaoru tries to stifle a laugh and fails, falling backwards onto the bed, hand pressed over his mouth. “S-sorry,” he giggles. “It’s just…it’s so basic, it’s like the little girl wishlists in fairy tales…”

 

Natsume calmly reaches for his Nightcloak, shakes it out to its full length, and sets it atop Kaoru—wherein it promptly ‘bites’ him, which is much like a static shock, but worse. “Go die. This is why I don’t like telling you anything personal.”

 

Kaoru nods helplessly, gasping a little. “You’re right, I’m the worst, I’m _sorry_ —here, let me tell you something, you can make fun of me. I get off harder with a woman if she puts a finger in my ass, how’s that? Just take your mean cloak, _please_ —my brother’s nickname for me was Chipmunk because my cheeks were so fat!”

 

Seemingly satisfied, Natsume peels his cloak away, the little lingering green sparks from it flickering threateningly. “So what have we learned from this?”

 

“That you’re really mean and should not be trifled with,” Kaoru says, evidently enamored by the sound of his voice.

 

“Especially,” Natsume sweetly says, “when you’re asking questions, get answers, and then laugh at them.” He dangles the cloak threateningly again. “So what if I want a fairy tale prince or wizard or _both_ to steal me away? Is there a _problem_ with that?”

 

“The problem,” Kaoru says, grinning in self-deprecation, “is that you only get me. The whole bond thing.”

 

“Were you even listening? You fit all of my qualifications. You even have the sword.”

 

“Well, yeah, but you don’t mean someone like me. You mean a prince,” Kaoru says, still amused. “I’m just a shitty reject.”

 

“One—stop questioning my taste. Two—if you are going to question my taste, don’t do it over yourself.” The cloak hovers ominously.

 

“You’re so threatening,” Kaoru complains. “Why do you have to be so threatening? Ugh, fine, I’m a storybook prince.”

 

He moves suddenly, knocking the cloak aside and pressing Natsume down to the bed, one hand on his wrist, the other next to his head. “Are you the lovely princess who needs to be awakened from her magic spell with a kiss? Or the one who kisses three hundred demons because her prince is late?”

 

Natsume, thoroughly taken off-guard, manages a useless, squeaky little noise instead of a proper response for a solid fifteen seconds. “…You’re sexy,” he weakly settles upon instead of properly answering, and attempts to cover his face with his other hand when the height of _that_ embarrassment sets in.

 

“I know.” Kaoru takes advantage, thoroughly and happily, and leans in for a kiss, the weight of his body pressing Natsume down into the bed. “Tell me more about this prince you dreamed about.”

 

Another little strangled noise leaves Natsume’s throat. “NOoo. It’s stupid,” he bemoans. He doesn’t _exactly_ turn his head away from the kiss, however, and his squirming is pretty useless. “I just—I—nnggghhh. It’s not even the prince thing as much as the knight in shining armor image, okay?! I like guys in armor with big swords that know how to ride a horse and can pick me up and sling me up there with them and then we can go stab things together! That’s it! Bonus points if they have long hair!”

 

“…Well.” Kaoru smirks, and twirls a finger in Natsume’s hair, winding it around and around. “You did get lucky when you bonded to me, didn’t you? Ah, I wonder if it’s the right time to mention that there’s definitely a portrait of me somewhere in shining armor, saving a village from demons…”

 

“Stoooop,” Natsume groans, turning his face aside to bury it into his hand properly. “You’re just saying that, you jerk. Besides, portraits are whatever, it’s the real deal that’s good! Heavy clanking metal and all.”

 

“You think I’m joking? Here, take a look.” Kaoru concentrates, and focuses on an image he has of himself in the mirror, with heavy, bloodstained armor, cloak ruffling gently in the wind on his balcony in High Harbor, sword in hand.

 

Natsume falls very, very silent for a moment, the only sound he offers up that of his heavy breathing. “…I see.”

 

“See? I’m the real deal.” Kaoru grins. “And I’m very clean. And I want to put my cock in your mouth.”

 

“Gods, I wish you would.”

 

“Well, princess. Your wish is my command.”

 

Kaoru shifts, easing his breeches open and climbing up, straddling Natsume’s chest, kneeling on either side of it. “You want it like this?” he asks, lashes fluttering as he looks down at Natsume’s lovely red mouth. “Or on your knees?”

 

Natsume’s hands are already grabbing for Kaoru’s laces, his mouth watering at just the thought of Kaoru’s cock anywhere near, on, or in him again. “Here.” He swallows before he can start drooling, which really wouldn’t be cute. “I…usually h-hate it, being called names like that. But it’s good, from you.”

 

“That’s because you really like being mine.” Kaoru cups Natsume’s face in one hand, and pulls himself out with the other, stroking it a few times to get himself under control. He sighs, and leans forward, pressing the head to Natsume’s lips. “Go on, love. Do whatever you want, I’ll tell you if it’s not good.”

 

Natsume’s lips part immediately as he hungrily laps at the head of Kaoru’s cock, inhaling sharply through his nose at the first taste. Clean skin gives way to musky, bitter precome, with his mind fizzling out for a moment, going pleasantly blank as it narrows to very little except the thought of _Kaoru Kaoru Kaoru._

 

His hands grab for Kaoru, curling against his upper thighs as he greedily sucks Kaoru’s cock into his mouth, tongue snaking around him as he feels Kaoru dripping down his throat.

 

“Oh, shit,” Kaoru whispers, and nearly comes immediately, two hundred years of stamina or no. He clenches his jaw, gripping the sheets as he sucks in a breath, trying hard to get himself under control. “Oh…fuck, princess, you’ve got to be a little gentler, or I’m going to give you a drink faster than I want to…”

 

Natsume’s eyes slit open, dark and hungry as he lifts his head up in an attempt to swallow more of Kaoru down, his cheeks flushed from the effort, his jaw already aching from the stretch of Kaoru’s cock between his lips.

 

_Or you could just get hard again, and we can keep doing this._

 

Hopefully, having that little tickle of conversation in his mind isn’t troubling. It should be delightfully convenient when Natsume has no desire to pull Kaoru’s cock from his mouth—and he still doesn’t as he laps and sucks, a whimper muffled in the back of his throat.

 

Like this, the touch to his mind almost feels intimate, like a caress he’s never experienced before. Kaoru leans into the feeling, and nods, petting Natsume’s hair with one hand, keeping himself braced with the other as his cock slides in and out, letting Natsume taste and lick all he wants. “Soon,” he promises. “Really…really soon, just keep working your tongue like that, sweetheart, you’ll get everything you want—“

 

A pleased, muffled moan escapes Natsume’s throat before he swallows too hard, too fast, losing his rhythm and gagging the next time Kaoru’s cock slides in deep. His eyes water, his chest heaves, but his hands curl against Kaoru’s thighs, not letting him pull back as heblinks wet lashes, his face ruddy as he inhales through his nose.

 

So that might’ve made him harder, so help him.

 

Natsume squirms a little, thighs pressed together, feeling himself drool as he laps at Kaoru’s cock, his eyes rolling back as he feels Kaoru’s cock slide deeper down his throat.

 

There’s a moment when Kaoru sucks in a breath, teetering on the edge, every part of him from toes to hair concentrated on the ultimate pleasure Natsume is giving him, on how _lucky_ he is to be here, on how _alive_ he feels—

 

And then Natsume flicks his tongue, and Kaoru stops thinking about anything at all.

 

He groans, eyes shuddering closed as he spills into Natsume’s eager mouth, pulse after pulse flooding over his tongue, deliberately pulling back just enough to ensure that he gets to taste every last drop. “That’s—oh, gods, you’re so good,” he breathes, hands shaking as he grips the bedsheets.

 

Natsume chokes, swallowing hard once, then lets his head fall back with a panting, heaving breath, Kaoru’s cock slipping from his lips. A sticky streak of come escapes past his lips and drips down his chin, ignored for the moment as he just tries to catch his breath, his eyes glazed and lidded. “You…can do that any time,” he hoarsely purrs, shivering just at the thought. “Like…just grab me and stick it in, that’d be all right…”

 

Kaoru sways a little, lightheaded and enjoying it. “You’re so beautiful,” he mutters, and somehow manages to climb off of Natsume, shifting until they’re lying side by side again. “Give me your cock, I haven’t gotten to touch it much.” He moves as he says it, curling a hand around the hard length, exploring with his fingertips, teaching himself the shape.

 

Natsume shudders at the sudden touch, his back arching as his hands immediately grab for Kaoru, arms winding around him and hands fisting against his back. “B-be nice, or I’m gonna come,” he whines, even as he shifts, hiking his skirt up to give Kaoru more access. “I _just_ washed everything…nnnhhh, your hands are so nice, though…”

 

Kaoru just delves his hand under those skirts, cupping and gently stroking. “Bet it feels better like this, hm? Ah, just so you know…”

 

He leans in, breath hot against the shell of Natsume’s ear, thumb swiping over the head. “If you ever want to grab _me_ and shove it in my mouth, I won’t mind. Or hell, flip me over, I like just about everything.”

 

Natsume blinks a few, flustered times at those words, his brain misfiring when given that information when coupled with Kaoru’s hand on his cock _plus_ a delightful(ly irritating) premonition of an orgasm. Which, predictably and annoyingly enough, leads to—“shit, damn it,” he groans, nails flexing into Kaoru’s back as his hips strain into Kaoru’s touch, cock spilling with scarcely another touch. Natsume huffs, shivering and frustrated, looking all the world like he’s going to off himself. “I don’t miss _those_ visions,” he grumbles, shoving his face into Kaoru’s neck. “Nnhh. Sorry. I didn’t want to be that fast.”

 

Kaoru’s mouth drops open, his hand falling still in absolute delight. “Did you just… _see_ yourself coming, and that made you come? Is that what you meant, when you said you didn’t need to see that there were orgasms in your future?”

 

“Yes! And it’s the worst! Don’t look so pleased about it!”

 

“But you made a really sexy face! That’s what I’m pleased about!”

 

“But I hate it! I hate it _so much_. I miss coming like a normal person already. You know, more than two seconds after someone starts touching me,” Natsume crossly mutters, flopping over onto his back again. “Whatever.”

 

“Have you tried being on top when it happens?” Kaoru asks, tracing little patterns on Natsume’s chest with his clean fingertips. “Just curious. Or is that something you have no interest in?”

 

“…I’d do it if you wanted me to,” is the eventual, self-conscious reply as Natsume smooths down his skirts after a neat whisk of magic leaves him clean and dry again. “But I think we’d both just be disappointed.”

 

“Mm? Why?”

 

“Because even assuming I could get hard, if I came early because my _stupid_ visions, I’d just be pissed off. And you’d be annoyed. And it would be awful.”

 

“Hey, maybe this is something you don’t have to foresee,” Kaoru suggests pleasantly. “We could just try it. How bad could it be? It’s us.”

 

Natsume gives him an exhausted look before rolling over onto his side and dragging a blanket over himself. “You’ve known me for a week. Which is enough time for me to uproot and ruin your life, I understand that, but not enough time for you to _know_ me.”

 

“Cool. Let’s have some new experiences and get to know each other better, then.” Kaoru stares at Natsume’s back. “Or you could just…be annoyed with me for suggesting sex after we’ve been talking about it for several days straight.”

 

“Can you _please_ give me five minutes to get over my magic ruining my fun for the umpteenth time?!” Natsume finally snarls, yanking a pillow over his head in an attempt to silence the buzz of the world around him, only amplified by Kaoru’s presence all of a sudden. “I get that it’s all fun and games to you, but I can’t just turn this off!”

 

Kaoru blinks, and goes still, an unhappy weight settling in his stomach. “Sorry,” he says quietly, and sits up, swinging his legs off the bed. “I misunderstood. Want me to get out of here for a little while? You know how to reach me.”

 

“No! Just give me a minute, damn it!”

 

Natsume stays where he’s curled up, chest heaving, eyes clenched shut, half-attempting to suffocate himself with the pillow because that would be easier than having to keep Listening as much as Seeing. The inn’s walls are suddenly much too thin—they’re plenty thick, probably, but not right now—and it’s like he can See through the pillow, though the wall, straight to their neighbors that want to share too much just by existing.

 

Then it stops, the misfire calmly shutting down, the real and actual world clicking back into place as quickly as it had come undone.

 

Natsume slumps down, shivering, peeling the pillow off of his tear-streaked face. “…Sorry,” he finally, hoarsely says. “That got weird. I got overstimulated. I didn’t mean to snap—“

 

A new, stabbing pain slices into his temple, and Natsume cringes, rolling away again. “Oh, just fucking off me,” he groans, pressing his face down into his pillow once more. “Fuck, fuck, I’m blaming the Svalde, I knew being all squished up was a bad idea, I’m gonna get so many shitty visions all at once because of their stupid policies, you can’t suppress prophets, fucking _morons_ —“

 

Tentatively, Kaoru’s warm hands come to rest on Natsume’s shoulders from behind, then move to rub gently at his temples. “Is this all right?” he asks quietly. “Sometimes when Rei gets overstimulated he likes to be grounded like this. Or another way, but I don’t have any puppies with me.”

 

Natsume exhales a shuddering laugh at that, slumping underneath Kaoru’s touch. “Puppies? S-seriously? Gods, he is obsessed isn’t he, won’t ever stop talking about how Lord Shu’s allergic so he can’t—“

 

_Bloody snow, everywhere that he looks._

 

_Everywhere he looks is just…around him. Does that mean it’s his?_

 

_His arm and hand aches, sore and dripping from bloodcastings, over and over and over, so that must be the case, but…_

 

“Ow,” Natsume mumbles distractedly, rubbing at the phantom pain in his arm. “Nn. This sucks.”

 

“Back to the bath?” Kaoru asks, trying to sound as soothing as possible. “Or do you want to take a walk? Or we can go back to the Svalde—“

 

“No! Gods, no, fuck them,” Natsume groans, squeezing his eyes shut again. “This just…this just happens sometimes. When there’s a lot, and I can’t center it. The Svalde just made it worse.” His lower lip trembles, and he tries to change the subject, even if it’s to something embarrassing. At least then maybe, _maybe_ he won’t have another outright horrible vision. “I really am sorry for snapping at you. Topping…kind of…scares me, though.”

 

Kaoru strokes Natsume’s hair, as comfortingly as he can manage. “I just didn’t want to make it worse, honestly. And I didn’t realize you were serious, so that’s my fault.” He pauses, then asks, “What scares you about it? You’re not going to hurt me, you know. And I promise, it’s not scary on that end.”

 

“Don’t wanna mess up,” Natsume mumbles, coiling up around his pillow. “Sex is supposed to be _not_ stressful. Doing it like that sounds stressful.”

 

“I promise,” Kaoru says, squeezing Natsume’s shoulder, “if you ever decide you want to try it, I will make it not stressful. I’m pretty good at sex.”

 

“I…I know you are.” Natsume’s eyes slide sideways, tracking odd, glowing dots of things Kaoru can’t see. “On…a similar note. That was pretty much my first complete blowjob ever and I’m glad you didn’t seem to hate it.”

 

Kaoru’s eyes rise. “Hate it? That was incredible. Why would I hate something so perfect?”

 

“You’re pretty sweet sometimes. You obviously can tell I am not good with criticism.” It’s a joke, sort of. Natsume shivers down to his toes, curling up a bit more as his eyes glaze to a clouded-over gold. “If I have to see this same shit over and over again, I’m going to jump out the window,” he groans. “I don’t know what else I’m supposed to _notice_ , I hate it…”

 

“Is that how it works? Do you just…get them until you process them correctly? Who decides that?”

 

“Whatever god you believe in,” comes Natsume’s exhausted reply. “Pick one. It…it’s either like that, or…until the event happens. I saw Tsumugi die a dozen times. I still don’t know what I was supposed to get out of it.”

 

“Do you want to talk about what you’re seeing now? Maybe that’ll help?”

 

“…Maybe.” Natsume’s voice is quiet. “But it’s a lot, and I don’t want you to see my face, so can you go blow out the candles and then we can cuddle while I think it over?”

 

Kaoru stands, and feels the absence of their contact immediately—weird—as he blows out the candles, then crawls back onto the bed, forgoing the questionable bedspread in lieu of curling up around Natsume, under his cloak. “Go on. Take your time.”

 

Natsume instantly snuggles back into Kaoru, reaching for his Nightcloak to crush it into his chest in a heap. Kaoru’s cloak is more than enough warmth for now, anyway. “The reason you’re not allowed to see my face,” he quietly says, “is because if I start tracing back through everything with things you don’t want to hear, and I look and sound upset—well, you’re not allowed to stop me. If you interrupt me, I might not get the vision back. Are you still fine with that?”

 

“Can I touch you?” Kaoru asks softy. “Can I squeeze you if it gets bad? If not, I’ll sit on my hands. But I understand, I’ve had to assist Rei with some pretty…dark stuff, before, with similar rules.”

 

“…Mm. Yeah.” That seems to mollify Natsume somewhat. “You can touch me. And squeeze me. And you can even talk to me, to help prompt things, if I get stuck or seem confused. You just…can’t _stop_ me.” This is better, definitely, than doing this alone in a dark room.

 

Natsume sucks in a deep breath, and gives into the constant, painful tug on the edge of his senses, that throbbing pain in his temple that hasn’t stopped. Instantly, his eyes roll back into his head, and his hand shoots down to grab at Kaoru’s, his grip so tight that he hears his own knuckles crack.

 

“They’re…not that far ahead of us.” Natsume’s voice is hollow, a little odd, as if there’s an echo behind it. “A snowstorm. That made them stop, Lord Kanata isn’t the best at these conditions. Ah…this is days ago. I’m starting too late, I don’t like that…” He sucks in a soft, quick breath. “Wataru thinks…thought…that I’m gone.”

 

Kaoru’s breath hitches, and he spreads his fingers wide, resting his hand on Natsume’s belly, the other on his hand to give him a little squeeze. “Wataru thought you were gone? This is the past?”

 

“Backlogged. Everything was backlogged, from when we were near and in the Svalde’s place. He thought I died. He…even without the magic he usually had on me…there were other things. And also, as Nightcloaks, we can just…sense each other differently.”

 

 _“You do understand,” Rei lowly, dangerously says, his eyes glowing deep red, “that the demons you just killed in your temper tantrum—they were_ mine. _”_

 

_“Natsume is—“_

 

_“What are you going to do about it here?! We’re too far in the North, you can’t turn back if what you’re sensing really is true!” Rei throws up a frustrated hand, gesturing back to Kanata, partially comatose in a pile of furs in the rising snow. “Kanata can’t wait for that. This entire realm can’t wait for that. He’s not your bonded, so Move. On.”_

 

_“You know what happens when no one believes in me, Rei.”_

 

_“I believe in you! And we’ll go back for him when we can, damn it—“_

 

“Lord Rei was so…so angry,” Natsume whispers. “Wataru…killed dozens of his demons. Just because of me. And then, he…”

 

_Blood-stained, all particularly obvious against pale skin and hair and snow, Rei’s frantic shout of protest before he’s simply—_

 

“Disappeared. I…don’t know to where.” Natsume’s fingers clench. “I reached for him before. He didn’t reach back, even when Lord Rei did.”

 

Kaoru sucks in a deep breath, processing all of this, trying not to jump to any conclusions. “That sounds…not ideal,” he finally manages. “Can you tell how far away they are? You can do portals, I can go pretty damn fast on a good horse, but not like Mika’s thing…”

 

“No. Finding them is different than Seeing. That’s not happening right now. Later. I—“

 

_“I’ve been looking for you, kitten.”_

 

The vision is so sudden, so _abrupt_ that it almost feels like an actual, telepathic message, funneled directly into his thoughts. Natsume inhales sharply, trembling as his eyes squeeze shut, lashes quickly soaking through.

 

_Wataru’s hand is cool. Not warm, not like it usually is. Natsume worries about that, but what’s the point in vocalizing it, Wataru—_

 

“…is alive,” Natsume dazedly finishes the thought aloud, relieved and unable to hide it. “H-he’s alive. I…of course he is.”

 

_Long, silvery blue hair, a distracting, silky gradient against backdrops of snow sways in front of him, his hand clutched in that familiar, surprisingly cold hand._

 

And then it’s everything he doesn’t want to see.

 

“Wataru’s alive,” he whispers again, his chest heaving. “He’s alive, and he…was looking for me. Just to bring me to Eichi. Because I…left, because he thought I looked away, that has to be it, it’s my fault—he _told me_ to stay in the Hinterlands, and I didn’t…”

 

Kaoru squeezes, with one hand, then the other, as if he could squeeze all of the trembling, all of the terror, all of the desperate anger and shock out of Natsume with his hands alone. There’s no use saying any kind of platitude, like maybe it won’t happen, like he’ll stop it—Natsume doesn’t believe that. Kaoru, therefore, will just have to be the one that changes fate.

 

“You’re all right,” he whispers. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but for right now, you’re here in my arms, and you’re safe. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

“I did! I knew, I knew from the moment I left, I was in trouble, that he was going to be angry, but it didn’t matter—“

 

Natsume shakes so hard it feels like he might come apart, and he lifts a hand to cover his own mouth, shutting himself up for a moment when he’s afraid all that will come out is the stressed, frantic sounds he can hear himself make in his own vision.

 

_Blue eyes, sharp, too-bright, too blue—_

 

_Black talons—_

 

“I wish you’d just kill me,” Natsume mutters to someone that isn’t there, unfocused and shaken as the world spins, threatening to make him pass out. “Wataru—you _promised_. Both me, and Lord Rei, all of us…”

 

Suddenly, he stiffens, his nails biting into the back of Kaoru’s hand as his eyes snap open. “The pact. The one between Rei and Eichi, it’s gone.”

 

“How can you tell?” It’s hard, it’s _hard_ not to tell Natsume to _stop, just stop, you’ve done enough, no one needs you to see these horrible things._ But he’d promised, and if he’s going to be a part of this (not like he has a choice), he’s going to need to be better than impulsive.

 

“It’s huge. It has to be, to hold two wizards like that to an agreement…but it’s gone. Fuck, it’s really gone. I can’t See it, in any of the visions. It’s…it’s so big that I can see it even without Asking to see it. Or I could, before.” Natsume shuts his eyes again, shuddering. “I would’ve…been able to feel it, too. I can feel every spell, every construct, every…every single little thing on Eichi, in my visions. He’s touching me, I don’t have a choice not to.”

 

“Does that mean...” Kaoru tries to understand it for a moment, then shakes his head. “I don’t know what that means. I don’t understand the pact they made, or how it’s enforced. It’s a big deal, that it’s gone?”

 

_Gleaming steel, sharp and polished, laid across the lap of someone he doesn’t know or recognize._

 

Natsume tenses again, and gives Kaoru’s hand a hard squeeze. “I need a break,” he faintly says. “You can help me stop now. Then I can talk.”

 

“How do I stop you?” Kaoru keeps his voice even, level. “Is it something I can say, or a way to touch you?”

 

Oh. Right. Every other person he’s ever let himself do this with has been a wizard. That makes a little spike of panic wind its way through him. “M-maybe…if you try and tell me to stop through the bond…that would work.”

 

Through the bond? Kaoru frowns. “But I can’t feel it, unless you’re picking at it, and I don’t want to throw up on you?”

 

“Can you _try?_ Just think really hard about it, like you’re—like the separate telepathy we had. I know I was always the one to start it, but…”

 

Kaoru opens his mouth to protest, then shuts it. Handwringing won’t help. He takes in a deep breath, finds his center like he’s meditating, and tries to remember that feeling.

 

The telepathy doesn’t work. It feels like always, feels like any time he’s tried it, poorly, with Rei.

 

On a whim, he thinks back to when Natsume had fiddled with the bond and driven him to his knees. Just—a little…further, and…

 

Kaoru finds that feeling, that flickering nausea, and tries to worry at it, like poking his tongue into a sore spot on his mouth. Feeling stupid, he tries, _Stop! Natsume!_

 

“Ah, loud, loud, loud,” Natsume hisses, immediately jerking his hands away as he scrunches up into a tiny ball, his eyes fluttering as they return to their normal, glittering gold instead of hazy and glazed over. “Loud, but…it worked,” he exhales, slumping down. “You really are good…thank you…”

 

“Sorry,” Kaoru mutters, gathering Natsume close, kissing his cheeks. “Sorry, I don’t know anything about magic. Are you all right?”

 

“Y-yes. You don’t feel like a normal human, so I forgot that you are,” Natsume dazedly says, head lolling a little when Kaoru pulls him close. “For the record…trances like that _will_ wear off on their own. I just…needed to be done.”

 

“No reason for you to see it all again,” Kaoru agrees. “You already know what…what you saw. So tell me, what does it mean, for the pact to be gone?”

 

“There was probably more to find out, but I still don’t know what I’m looking for,” Natsume bemoans, scrubbing a hand over his face in frustration. “Nggh. Whatever. Right. The pact. Lord Rei agreed not to touch the king. The previous Emperor agreed not to touch Lord Shu. That’s…gone. Lord Rei was basing a lot of his plans around it being intact.”

 

Kaoru snorts. “Or he just wanted it for personal reasons, and afterwards said the thing about his plans.”

 

“I mean,” Natsume exhales, “probably. But by the time I heard about it, he was basing his plans around it. I…mention this, because…” He hesitates, glancing up at Kaoru through the mussed fall of his bangs. “At his war council—they were talking about how much easier it would be to just…kill the king to get at the previous Emperor. But Lord Rei messed up and made that pact, so they couldn’t. Even with that spell the previous Emperor worked over the king, Lord Rei says he would’ve preferred it; he has Izumi in the Shadowlands now. If he’s alive—and the king’s heir is—then it’ll be born, and it would’ve been easy. Theoretically.”

 

Kaoru tries to follow all of that, from the magical end of things. “Are…you saying that it’s good?” he hazards. “Or that it’s bad? I’m sorry, it’s really complicated, and I’ve always hated politics.”

 

Natsume reaches up, grabbing Kaoru’s face in his hands. “Get better at them,” he bluntly says. “I’m saying you should be concerned, if you’re a paladin. This is information you technically aren’t allowed to know. Lord Rei wants to kill the king. He couldn’t before, because of the pact he had with the previous Emperor. Now that’s gone. He still can’t, because of that paladin magic worked on the king, but as soon as the king’s heir is born…that’s gone. And the mother of that heir is in Lord Rei’s custody, in the Shadowlands…where time is different.”

 

“But—“

 

Kaoru’s eyes widen. “He can’t kill the king,” he whispers. “He has to know I wouldn’t let him. You have to know I wouldn’t let him. Not—not _now_ , not that I’d let him any time, but _now?_ Without a clear line of succession? Is he insane?”

 

Natsume releases Kaoru’s face, holding up a finger. “That’s the first thing you’re wrong about. He _does_ have a clear line of succession—assuming Izumi’s child pops out with red hair. Lord Rei is betting on it. He has been, since he found out Izumi was pregnant. Use your brain, think about why.”

 

Kaoru racks his brain, trying to dial in to everything he’s been trying to ignore for the last hundred and fifty years. “Um…so he can kill the king,” he suggests. “Because that’ll kill Eichi. At least for a little while.”

 

“No, killing the king is a last resort for Lord Rei and always has been—at least, until you made him take that thrall off. Try again, what is Izumi?”

 

“Half-drake,” Kaoru answers promptly. “And I’m not going to apologize for making him lift the thrall, so don’t ask.”

 

“I’m not going to ask you to. Yes, he’s half-drake, but what is Izumi in relation to Lord Rei…? Ah, it’s charming that you’re dense sometimes,” Natsume crossly says. “A wizard, Kaoru. He’s a wizard, as you’ve clearly forgotten.”

 

Kaoru stares blankly. “So?”

 

“Lord Rei…is the Emperor. Who, as you know, has dominion over all wizards…? Did you really forget that?”

 

Kaoru shrugs. “I don’t know if I ever knew it. Rei talked about reporting in, sometimes, but in the same way that I talked about reporting in to my family…we never really did it, and there didn’t seem to be any consequences. He’d go off sometimes, but he’d say it like Eichi was begging him or something.”

 

Natsume opens his mouth, a dozen replies on his tongue, before he reminds himself to _be nice._ At least around Kaoru, he actually _wants_ to be. “I…see. Well…I can assure you, as the Emperor, he definitely has dominion over all wizards. It’s why I’m doubly protected from the crown—I’m from the Isles _and_ I’m a wizard. The king’s word has no power over me. So…hypothetically,” he continues, taking a breath, “Izumi’s child _could_ be underneath the Emperor’s domain…simply because it’s the child of a wizard.”

 

Kaoru finally catches on. “And there aren’t too many laws in place saying that it wouldn’t, because most wizards are sterile. And if the king is dead, there’s really no one to question what Rei wants to do, if he’s in control of the heir. Am I following?”

 

“Yes, you’re following, good boy,” Natsume says, reaching up to give his head a pat. “I’m not saying Lord Rei will do this. I _am_ saying it’s a shortcut…and it’s a shortcut that will prevent the previous Emperor from immediately turning his eyes to Lord Shu with the same sort of plan in mind.”

 

Kaoru’s head cocks. “But…for this plan to be put into place, the king has to be dead. And if he dies, Eichi dies, too. So…now I’m not following again, but I really appreciate the headpat.”

 

“It’s a race to see who can kill each other’s mate first. If Lord Rei kills the king…it’s everything we just discussed. If the previous Emperor kills Lord Shu…then Lord Rei is dead, too. Then _he’s_ bonded to the king, and just as much in charge of the king, and his heir. And the Academy. And me.”

 

Kaoru whistles softly through his teeth. “Ah. Now the pact is gone. And…oh, I just realized, I’m in even more danger than I thought.”

 

“…You? You specifically?”

 

“Well, yeah. Eichi hates you, right?” Kaoru shrugs a shoulder. “If they find out about the bond…that’s a target for me.”

 

“Then they can’t find out.” It’s an immediate, hasty response. “I didn’t even think of that. Shit, shit, shit.”

 

“Yeah,” Kaoru agrees, with feeling. “No offense. But I can’t see an upside of…basically _anyone_ finding out.”

 

“…I wasn’t going to hide it from Lord Rei…but I can try.” Natsume huddles up, stressed. “All of the Nightcloaks are sort of…naturally telepathic with one another. And I amplify that.”

 

“I’m sure Rei wouldn’t ever try to hurt us on purpose,” Kaoru says, absolutely convinced. “We’ve managed to go this long without killing each other, and he loves you like a son. Er, as much as a son.”

 

“He’s a demon, I’m unconcerned about specifics,” Natsume wearily says. “And I know you’re right—I…do trust him. I don’t think he’d let anything happen to us, if he could help it. Nnnh, he’d be really annoyed if I kept something from him like this, though…”

 

“Let him be annoyed, he’s planning to kill the king,” Kaoru says, lips drawn in a tight line. “Or at least, he hasn’t written it off as impossible. When I get my hands on him…”

 

“This is why I didn’t want to mention how he talked about it,” Natsume mutters, twisting partially away. “He’s going to know I said something to you. You _know_ it wasn’t his first choice, not by a longshot. He did everything he could not to get this point.”

 

“Yeah…but his first choice was thralling the king,” Kaoru says with a sigh. “And that’s just as bad.”

 

“That’s not true! He tried a lot of things, there was a _lot_ of magic involved. I even was helping at one point, but nothing helped.” Natsume rolls onto his back entirely, shutting his eyes. “I’m not defending the thrall. I don’t like them, either. But with broken bonds…I’m not sure what other choice he really had…”

 

A knock comes at the door to their bedroom, and Natsume hisses, bolting upright in an instant, the lines of a magical shield (placed upon the room even before Kaoru arrived) flaring up as his hackles raise, glowing bright green and lighting up the room. “Milord?” comes the voice of the tavern lady, rather perplexed. “There’s a visitor for you. Should I send him up?”

 

“A visitor?” Kaoru asks, sitting up and blinking, the cloak falling to his waist, revealing his chest and belly. “Did they ask for me by name?”

 

“Yes, Milord.”

 

“Ask what he looks like,” Natsume hisses, hand on the dagger at his thigh, magic sizzling in his other hand. “I can’t See them.”

 

Kaoru puts a hand on Natsume’s, calming. “My good lady, did my guest say what his business is, or leave his name? What did he look like?”

 

“He…didn’t say his name, Milord—he’s a young man, with red hair, much like your lady friend?”

 

Natsume’s eyes narrow to slits.

 

 _Not Eichi,_ is the first thing Kaoru thinks, and the second is, _Holy shit, is it the king?_ “Send him up, if you don’t mind. I know, this isn’t your job, but I’d be happy to compensate you for your time.”

 

“No no, it’s quite fine, Milord! He’s also booked a room, this is more business than we usually see for months!”

 

Her brisk footsteps trail away, and Natsume does everything _but_ relax. He leaps from the bed, plucking and pulling at the magical tripwires he’s set up about the room, rearranging them with traced runes on the walls. “I’m troubled,” he lightly says, “by the fact I can’t See who this is. Do you have your sword?”

 

“Always.” Kaoru’s smile is tight-lipped. “The one habit my father drilled in that I haven’t been able to break—it’s never more than a handspan away.” He leans to the side, and grabs his sword from where it’s perched at the side of the bed, fitting easily in his hand.

 

“Then between the two of us, this should be fine.”

 

Natsume lingers next to the door, dagger in hand, magic in the other, waiting for the knock. When it comes, he doesn’t reach over to open it—instead, a string of magic loops about it, pulling the handle open to let the door creak open.

 

One step into the room triggers the trap, leaving glowing green strings of magic to loop about both of the man’s ankles, yanking him flat on his face and slamming the door behind him before he can even yelp. “Ow, ow, ow, what th—“

 

The person caught in Natsume’s trap lifts his head with a huff of breath, bracing onto his elbows as he peers around the dark room that’s only lit by the glow of Natsume’s magic, dark red bangs falling into his face. “Oh. Good, you _are_ both here!”

 

Natsume’s mouth falls open in disbelief, then his teeth grit. “ _Isara._ ”

 

“Yes? That’s me—ow, ow, your magic is cutting off my circulation—“

 

Natsume starts winding him up entirely, starting at his feet.

 

“This is not how you should treat an Enforcer of the Academy!”

 

“You know him?” Kaoru asks Natsume, looking down at the bound young man, trying not to be disappointed that he’s not the king. “Should I kill him?”

 

“Yeah. Go ahead.”

 

“No, don’t kill me! Damn it, Natsume.” The man rolls over onto his back, scowling up at him. “Let me go. Lord Rei sent me. Lord Kaoru, it’s me. Mao.”

 

“Don’t trust him, he’s sleeping with the previous Emperor’s right hand.”

 

“Are we really going to start judging people on who they’re sleeping with that’s close to the previous Emperor?” Kaoru asks mildly. “I’m more interested in how he found us. Hi, Mao. Long time, no see.”

 

Natsume shoots Kaoru a dark look before tossing himself back into the sole chair in the room, arms folded, legs crossed.

 

“…You could let me go,” Mao mutters, remaining on his back, staring at them both from that upside-down position with a sigh. “No? Okay. This is why Nightcloaks are the worse. Hi, Lord Kaoru. Like I said, Lord Rei sent me.”

 

“When and why?” Kaoru asks, sitting on the edge of the bed, not letting go of his sword. “What does Rei want? We’re already heading North to him.”

 

Mao’s eyes slide to the sword, then back to Kaoru’s face. “To check on His Excellency Natsume,” he simply answers. “Apparently, it was a surprise to Lord Rei when His Excellency contacted him out of the blue.”

 

“We were occupied in a place without magic,” Kaoru says evenly. “Now you’ve seen he’s perfectly well, isn’t that nice?”

 

“…Lord Rei also wanted to make sure he was with you, and not…someone else.” Mao’s gaze flickers between the two of them. “You’re both acting like I’m the enemy,” he cheerfully says. “I’m not sure why, but I think that’s unnecessary. I’ve been delayed in the North for awhile, so I might be able to help if that’s where you two are going.”

 

“We’ve had a pretty…you came at a weird time,” Kaoru allows, and looks back at Natsume. “They’d hardly send someone like this to assassinate us, don’t you think? Ah, I still don’t understand wizards, tell Rei to send a girl with me next time,” he complains. _Sorry, sweetheart, but he is a spy._

 

 _I know he is. I wanted his damned job. Why do you think I haven’t unwrapped him yet?_ “All you’d do with a girl is flirt with her,” Natsume crossly says, leaning back further into his chair. “Isara can’t assassinate a fly. I’ve kicked his ass half a dozen times _without_ magic.”

 

“Which is definitely against Academy rules,” Mao says with a strained smile, trying to roll and flip himself over one more time. “Your Excellency. Please. You don’t need another offense on your record—“

 

“No one cares about records anymore.”

 

“Ahaha…saying my job is obsolete like that…Lord Kaoru, please,” Mao grunts, pushing himself up onto his elbows. “If you’re so worried about me being a traitor, I’m happy to answer any questions you might have. I swear that it was Lord Rei that sent me; my associations with Eichi have _never_ been positive, regardless of what you might have heard.”

 

“I haven’t really heard too much about you, except one thing I really, _really_ hate,” Kaoru admits, and crouches down, ignoring the twinge in his knee that reminds him he’s getting old. Paladin instinct—he’d thought he’d gotten rid of it long ago, but it’s been flaring in him horrible, like a childhood disease that comes back to trouble him now and again. He reaches out a hand, and cups Mao’s chin, looking into his eyes. “Do you need to tell me anything?” he asks quietly, in the tone that he’s used before, to invite confessionals, in another lifetime.

 

Mao cocks his head, his loose hair—longer than Natsume remembers it, and only partially confined with a ponytail after his struggling with Natsume’s magic—fluttering about his face. “Ah…no, Lord Kaoru,” he politely says, his stare up at him unwavering. “I don’t. Unless you want to hear about the North, which I have more than enough information about.”

 

“Don’t waste your time, he’s not going to talk about it,” Natsume mutters underneath his breath, fingers tapping restlessly against his own cheek as he watches, eyes glittering in a way that makes it clear he sees every bit of magic wrapped about Mao. “He can’t.”

 

Kaoru’s expression is sad, and he lays a hand on Mao’s shoulder. He breathes in, breathes out, and knows in his heart of hearts that he’s right to find this magic appalling, abhorrent. White light glimmers, and the bonds around Mao dim, relaxing their hold without letting go. “If you want to be free of it,” he says quietly, holding the young man’s gaze, “I will help you.”

 

Mao frowns, and promptly shoves himself up onto his knees with a grunt of effort, jerking back out of Kaoru’s hold. The glowing, green bindings of magic that Natsume had cast on him suddenly split with a flash of steel and white light, and Natsume yelps at the recoil, hissing out a number of creative curses as he nearly falls out of his chair. “I asked you to let me go on multiple occasions,” Mao exasperatedly says, the knife in his hand glinting in the low light as he hops to his feet.

 

“That thing is as cursed as hell itself! That _hurt_ , don’t send magic back like that!” Natsume whips his attention to Kaoru. “This is why Enhanced are all evil,” he insistently says.

 

“It’s not evil. It’s the one thing we have to help regulate even Nightcloaks like yourself, so _behave_ , and stop tying me up every time you see me,” Mao sighs, brushing himself off. “Lord Kaoru, I’m also going to ask that you don’t place your influence upon me again.”

 

“That wasn’t influence,” Kaoru says evenly, keeping himself _very_ firmly in check to not go over and make certain Natsume is all right. “That was the lack of influence. That’s how it feels to not have anyone’s will pressing on yours. But I won’t try to help you if you don’t want to be helped.”

 

“Not only is your timing inappropriate, but so is the, ah…suggestion,” Mao pleasantly replies. “Lord Rei sent me to offer information. Do you want it? Or not?”

 

“The last I heard,” Natsume crossly interjects, gathering up the bits of his broken magic moodily, “he had sent you to catch up with that old soybean-hater.”

 

“That’s…such a descriptive name for Keito that I don’t even know what to feel? Yes, that was the original plan, but I was held up in the North for far too long, and the weather turned. So here I am instead. He was worried about you both.”

 

“You’ve seen us,” Kaoru points out. “Are you going back to him, now? We’ll tag along. Safety in numbers, and all that. At least, I will,” he adds, looking at Natsume. “Wizards are a mysterious lot, I don’t know what this one is up to.”

 

“What _I’m_ up to?” Natsume incredulously snaps back. “You’re the one constantly distracted either by women, or the sudden desire to act like the paladin you’re supposed to be.”

 

“Nightcloaks, especially _young_ Nightcloaks, can be troublesome—“

 

“Oh, whatever.”

 

“And His Excellency has clearly forgotten that even Nightcloaks aren’t supposed to travel about without a proper Enhanced escort…or another Nightcloak. Which means, yes, it would be excellent for you to tag along with me,” Mao cheerfully says.

 

“I hate you.”

 

“This is not my idea, this is Lord Rei’s! Please direct all criticism to him, thank you.”

 

“He makes you say that a lot, I bet,” Kaoru says wearily. Being in the same room as the thrall, now that he knows what that weird feeling is, makes his head hurt in a vague, pulsing way that he’d probably attributed to a hangover before. “Well, I’m not going tonight, it’s dark and cold, and I’ll put my foot through the snow and into a badger’s den. I suppose there’s room on the bed for three.”

 

“Absolutely not,” Natsume immediately growls. “It’s my bed, I paid for it. You’re barely allowed on it as is.”

 

“No worries, I already booked my own room,” Mao says, holding up his hands in surrender. “First thing in the morning, then? I’m always up early, I’ll wake you up!”

 

And with that, he’s gone, as quietly as he’d somehow arrived, without Natsume being able to see a trace of the magic lingering around him as soon as he leaves the room.

 

“It’s freaky. I do not like that,” Natsume hisses at the door, making his way back onto the bed.

 

“He makes me sad,” Kaoru complains. “I miss being super lapsed, I could barely tell when a horrible creature was under my nose. Now the weakest thrall makes me want to get out my rosary.”

 

He climbs onto the bed, curling immediately around Natsume, as if he’s always been meant to be there.

 

Natsume immediately winds all four limbs back around Kaoru, burying his face directly into his chest. “Warm,” he concludes, breathing out slowly as he tries to relax. “He’ll never admit it’s bad,” he murmurs. “He’s the strongest Enhanced for a reason. He likes it that way, even if he won’t admit it.”

 

“He’s never lived without it,” Kaoru protests. “That’s like saying that anyone raised in slavery belongs there, because they’re happy not to know anything different. Gross.”

 

“He lived without it as a child for a little while. And it’s not like Lord Rei always uses it, you can really see the difference when he doesn’t…” Natsume heaves a sigh, shutting his eyes. “Sorry. I know I’m defending it when I shouldn’t. Just…from a magical standpoint, I kind of get it.”

 

Kaoru pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts, then says, very carefully, “I’m glad to be bonded to you. And I wouldn’t trade that. But you have to know, for the future. If I ever find out you’re involved in thralling anyone, even for their own good in your mind, even temporarily, I will love you less. Not everything the paladins believe is wrong.”

 

“I wouldn’t!” Natsume hastily insists, sitting up abruptly. “Not only _wouldn’t_ I, I can’t. Not in the same sense. A true thrall is a demon construct, not a wizard construct, though there are spells that try to mimic it. The most I could do is hypnotize someone—which I have absolutely done, full disclosure, but that’s a temporary thing and easily broken by even the person being hypnotized.”

 

“Just…” Kaoru wipes a hand down his face. “It’s something I can’t ever, ever condone. So no matter if you think it’s done from the world’s biggest necessity…ah, I’m not sure how to put this in a way that doesn’t make me sound like a psychotic priest, actually.”

 

“…What would you have done, then?” Natsume quietly asks, watching him. “I’m…not trying to side one way or another. But I saw how the king was, before Lord Rei thralled him. He wasn’t…a person. Or if he was, he certainly wasn’t himself. What would you have done to deal with his broken bond?”

 

“Not that,” Kaoru says, voice rough, turning away. “If he’d come to one of us—we specialize in freeing humans of their influence, I know the paladins could have done something. You saw what the Svalde are capable of, and that’s just to protect their _library_ , imagine what we’d do for our king.”

 

“But he didn’t come to the paladins. The paladins should’ve come to _him._ ” Natsume exhales, fiddling with the hem of one of his sleeves. “There’s not much of a point to have all that power if it isn’t being used readily. And…bonds aren’t influence. Bonds are just…there. I’m really not trying to nitpick you; it’s a difficult situation either way. I do think there’s a limited amount of say certain parties can have if they aren’t actively trying to fix something, though. That doesn’t just apply to paladins; that applies to wizards, the crown…the Isles.”

 

“Anyone else in my order,” Kaoru says quietly, “would have said that if it’s a problem that can only be solved by being thralled, it’s better to die. And I…I don’t know if I agree with them, but I can’t really disagree. I do agree that we should be a more proactive force, who even remembers or thinks of paladins when they’re in trouble these days?”

 

“No one, because people associate them with punishment.” Natsume’s expression is wry. “Kaoru…you know the king is going to die, right? Even if Lord Rei doesn’t kill him by his own hand…if Lord Rei kills the previous Emperor, he’ll die. The only way that we know of is to thrall him again. His death might be delayed until his heir is born, but—it’ll be born. Assuming Lord Rei hasn’t expended all the energy he gathered from feeding on four Nightcloaks at once, he’s set himself up for success. At least, to my knowledge of what the previous Emperor is capable of. If you don’t like that…it’s probably time to start thinking of ways to fix it now.”

 

Kaoru reaches out a hand and puts it on Natsume’s, squeezing gently. “People die,” he says softly. “I’ve buried a lot of people I like. The older you get…the more you start thinking of whether it’s better to die well than live horribly. I haven’t had to make the choice for myself so far, but it’s coming, I know it is. I’m not afraid of my friends dying anymore. I just want to help them live as well as they can, and die as well as they can.”

 

“…Maybe you’re old enough to start thinking about that now, but I’m not.”

 

“Oh? You’d rather live, no matter the cost to you and others?”

 

“Not that. I’d rather try to help people live, and do everything I can to save them, than just say ‘people die.’” Natsume’s eyebrows raise as he stares back at Kaoru. “You’ve been around Lord Rei too long. Not everyone sees people as a cost-benefit. I’m as much a human as you are.”

 

Kaoru frowns. “I’m not sure what you mean about cost-benefit. I’m not talking about whether they can be helpful to me, or advance my agenda. Just—look, have you ever, on the Isles, seen an old deserter? Someone who was fighting in the wars, then ran away?”

 

“I’m not saying _you_ see people as a cost-benefit. I’m saying you seem to assume everyone else around you _does_ see people like that…because you’re used to demons.” Natsume sits back, shrugging a little. “And sure. There are people like that around.”

 

“I’m not—look, Rei is hardly a normal demon,” Kaoru says crossly, “and he’s hardly the only person I’m around. Most of my friends are humans. Most of the people I’ve loved and known are humans.”

 

“Uh huh. But you automatically assumed I would do something ‘no matter the cost to me and others.’” Natsume pokes a finger into Kaoru’s chest. “You talk to me like you would talk to a demon. Quit it.”

 

“Eh? I do?”

 

“All the time. You assume I’m going to do the…well, for lack of a better way of putting it, the sleazy, shitty thing.”

 

Kaoru turns that over in his mind for a minute, and pulls his hand away from Natsume’s. “Ah. I don’t think that’s from being around demons. I think that’s just…from being around other humans. Shitty ones. But you’re right.”

 

“You talk to me like most people talk to—or about—demons.” Natsume shrugs. “There are plenty of bad humans, obviously. I try not to be one of them—as a Nightcloak, you’re sort of…in the public eye a lot. I don’t want to live a double life.”

 

“And the more power you have, the easier it is to use it to your own advantage,” Kaoru adds quietly. “I’ve never found anyone who’s immune from that, me included.”

 

“I’m not saying I don’t pick favorites,” Natsume huffs defensively. “I’m just saying—I try to pick _good_ favorites. Prophets have to try to be neutral. I’m not, but if I don’t try, I’d lose a ton of visions along the way. And besides…we’re bonded. We might as well try to have a little trust in each other, if nothing else.”

 

Kaoru looks at Natsume for a long minute, then looks down. “This is going to be a long road for me. Just warning you right now. Because I’ve loved and lived with someone I don’t trust completely for a really, really long time.”

 

“It’s almost like I can tell or something.”

 

“Okay, Smartass, I’m trying to open up here.”

 

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just…” Natsume hesitates, glancing aside. “You definitely don’t want to hear this, but I’m saying it anyway. Lord Rei and Lord Shu…you can tell that they trust each other completely. They worry about each other a lot, but that’s not the same as worrying about how the other person is doing something, or how they’re handling a situation. They just…assume it will come out in a way that’s agreeable for both of them, if nothing else. It would be good if we were like that. We’re sort of stuck together…and I really don’t want to be like the king and the previous Emperor, where you question every single thing I do.”

 

“I’d also like it if we could have one of those relationships where one person isn’t constantly trying to murder the other person’s loved ones and usurp his power,” Kaoru says dryly, “but I agree. I figure this’ll be a long process for both of us, but…” He shrugs a shoulder helplessly. “I’m excited to take that journey with you.”

 

“Murder is definitely the opposite of what I want, unless it involves the previous Emperor,” Natsume wryly says, and he hesitantly reaches for Kaoru’s hand again. “There’s one more thing.”

 

Kaoru brings that hand to his lips, and kisses it. “Name it.”

 

“Please. If you’re going to ask me to top—first, maybe don’t. Second, at least get me drunk or high first.”

 

A little pang of wistful longing twinges in Kaoru’s gut, but he at least manages not to sigh. There’s definitely something kind of horrible about knowing he’s only going to have sex with one person, for the rest of his life, and that person only likes one specific kind of sex. “Fair enough. I’d never want to make you uncomfortable.”

 

“I’m not saying never. I’m saying…mnnh. Specific circumstances only. After all this stressful stuff is just…over with.”

 

Kaoru shrugs a shoulder. “As you like. Don’t worry, I’m a pretty easy keeper, as far as that goes. Kiss me a lot and let me get you off and I’ll probably be happy.”

 

“I can do that.” Natsume slowly lists to the side before flopping down again, heaving an exhausted sigh. “I don’t want to deal with Mao in the morning. Wake me up after he’s done being cheerful and on time.”

 

“Cheerful? He always seems stressed and upset to me.”

 

“It’s the same difference, for Enhanced.”

 

“Ehh…I’ll never understand them…”

 

“That’s because humans should stick to being humans, and not try to be shitty wizards,” Natsume mutters, pulling Kaoru’s cloak over himself as he snuggles down. “Nhhf. Good night, sorry if I wake you, but don’t try to shake me awake if I get weird.”

 

“Can I squeeze you?” Kaoru asks, curling up behind him again. “Or sort of…I don’t know, kiss you in your sleep?”

 

“Mmhm. Just…don’t try to wake me up. I get stuck if you do that.”

 

Kaoru opens his mouth to ask, then closes it, and simply pulls his cloak over both of them. _I’m going to find out eventually. Might as well be now._ “Night, kitty-cat.”

 


	39. Chapter 39

 

Natsume sleeps about as well as he expects—not much at all.

 

It usually isn’t this bad, but he expected that, too. Days of being suppressed by the Svalde lead to an inevitable backlog, all things his mind and visions and magic need to process their way through.

 

What he does _not_ expect—or like, in the slightest—is to wake up fully after a full night’s worth of visions, shaky and exhausted, bags underneath his eyes.

 

…and remembering _nothing_ from it.

 

That’s not true—he remembers one thing, and that’s the insistent wailing of babies. Natsume groans, rolling over onto his stomach, stuffing his face into a pillow to avoid the sunlight that has begun pouring in from the window. If he’s going to skip out on a good night’s rest, it should at least be _useful._

 

Kaoru lets out a groan when Natsume stirs, rolling over and stuffing his face into Natsume’s shoulder. “Don’t move around yet,” he complains. “I had the worst sleep, I’m going to sleep past dinner.”

 

“ _You_ had the worst sleep?” Natsume crossly echoes, disbelieving. He doesn’t move further, though, content to remain facedown and partially crushed under Kaoru’s weight. “Was I tossing and turning or something?”

 

“Mm, no, you were cute and cuddly,” Kaoru says around a yawn. “I just had these _crazy_ dreams.”

 

“Elaborate.”

 

“Uh…there was one where this baby wouldn’t stop crying, or maybe it was a couple babies?”

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Natsume just _barely_ resists grabbing hold of their bond and _shaking it_. “Vision transference isn’t useful! It just means we both don’t sleep, damn it!” Because scolding the bond is helpful, yes.

 

“Who was the man with the red hair and spectacles?” Kaoru asks, still sleepy.

 

Natsume freezes, his breath suddenly coming short. “What?”

 

“The man with the red hair and spectacles, the one that was holding the baby,” Kaoru clarifies, blinking sleep out of his eyes.

 

Natsume rolls, abruptly pinning Kaoru onto his back with a hand on his chest. “Do you remember anything else?” he abruptly presses. “Try to show it to me.” _Here, like you did when you woke me from that trance._

 

“This is hot,” Kaoru tells him bluntly, and winks. “Okay, don’t kill me, I’ll try. Ah…”

 

It’s a little easier this time, fumbling for that feeling, and a lot easier when he’s touching Natsume, looking into his eyes. He breathes, and tries to focus on that weird, fleeting dream.

 

_A man with red hair and spectacles, clutching a small cloth bundle, the wind whipping brutally around both of them as he stands, perched easily atop the slick surface of a glacier. “Is this what you wanted?” he taunts, holding the shrieking child close, the cloth completely obscuring it from view. “You came all the way here, but you didn’t think ahead! Now, the child is mine! Back to the Depths with you, but not before I drain you of everything you used to be!”_

 

“Did it work?”

 

Natsume sits back, his chest heaving as he nods once, then sways to the side and promptly passes out.

 

“Oh…okay.”

 

Kaoru tucks Natsume into the bed, ignoring the pounding in his heart that tells him to _do something!!!_ Natsume was fine before when this happened, so hopefully, no matter what Kaoru did wrong, it’ll be fine this time, too.

 

To that end, he makes himself useful, procures a large glass of water and a mug of tea, locks the door, and sits down next to his sleeping bonded, sharpening his sword on a whetstone, and waits.

 

It’s easily another fifteen minutes before Natsume wakes again, pale and groggy as he stirs, rolling over onto his back with a quiet moan of protest. “Don’t like that,” he mumbles, slinging an arm over his face. “That hurt.”

 

“You’re more delicate than advertised,” Kaoru informs him. “What’s that about?”

 

“This is unusual,” Natsume mutters, forcing himself up onto his elbows just because of that remark, even though his vision blurs dizzily. “This is way more than the normal number of really strong, important visions that I usually get. I’m trying to keep up.”

 

“Mm. So, have you ever seen that guy before? I mean, heh, with that temperament…not much chance he’s on our side, huh?”

 

“That’s the drude.”

 

Kaoru blanches. “How do you know? Are you getting more information from that than I was?”

 

“No. I’ve seen him before.” Natsume scrubs a hand over his eyes. “A few times now. I saw him last night, but I couldn’t remember it until your vision reminded me. There was just too much.”

 

“I had some other dreams, too,” Kaoru says quietly. “But now I’m not sure I want to remember them.”

 

“You definitely don’t, if they’re the kinds of things I’ve been seeing.”

 

There’s a too-cheerful knock at the door, and Natsume glares at it moodily. “Good morning!” comes Mao’s voice. “We’re already running late, so as soon as you two are ready, it would be good if we could go!”

 

“I already want to kill him,” Natsume mutters, swinging his legs off of the bed with a shiver.

 

“How can we be late for something we didn’t know was on a schedule?” Kaoru complains. “Go away, we don’t want any of whatever you’re selling!”

 

“I said I’d be here early~” Mao’s sing-song continues, albeit more tensely.

 

“Don’t bother a lady while she’s getting ready!” Natsume snarls, too irritable to use another excuse to make Mao back off as he throws one of his boots at the door, then flops back down. “I hate that my dreams share over to you,” he mutters, wiping both hands down his face. “I’m sorry. I’ll figure out a way to make that stop.”

 

“I’d say it was fine and you could share them with me,” Kaoru says doubtfully, standing with a stretch and grabbing his breeches, “but you don’t seem to have slept any better, so if it’s only being an inconvenience to both of us and isn’t helping you any…yeah, I’d rather sleep.”

 

“…it helped jar my memories. But I still would rather you sleep, and not see the same things I do.”

 

Slowly but surely, Natsume pries himself out of bed, stretching and retrieving his boot that was thrown at the door. “Can you come tighten me up properly?” he wearily asks, pulling his hair over his shoulder. “I want to at least look like disheveled nobility, not a local wench.”

 

“You’d be a beautiful wench,” Kaoru assures him, but stands all the same, taking hold of the laces as he’s been taught. “Until you open your mouth.”

 

“I have a girl voice. It’s just gone, if I get pissed off,” Natsume lightly says, gripping the back of a chair to brace himself when Kaoru pulls. “And I’m always pissed off.”

 

“But…” Kaoru frowns, and yanks on the laces, as hard as he would on a woman who was waist training. “I thought you weren’t pretending to be a girl, you were doing this for the gods.”

 

Natsume grits his teeth, not making even a squeak of pain or protest when he’s yanked in properly. “I am,” he says, exhaling a quiet whoosh of breath as he relaxes again. “But shitty Mainlanders don’t know that, by and large.”

 

“But I’ve never seen you pretend to be a woman to Mainlanders. What do I have to do to see cute girl Natsume?”

 

“I pretend to be a woman all the time. I just don’t talk while I do it, usually,” Natsume sighs, turning around and folding his arms. “Do you _really_ want to see that?”

 

“Uh, yeah.” Kaoru grins, letting his hands fall to Natsume’s hips. “Desperately. But maybe another time. Let’s leave, before Isara shits himself.” He says the last loud enough to echo through the door, very deliberately.

 

“I think I’m waiting very politely,” Mao calls back sweetly. “Even if we are now _extremely_ late.”

 

Natsume stretches up, and gives Kaoru’s head a pat. “The next shitty Mainlander that hassles us will be dealt with by a cute girl…if you behave yourself today,” he says. “I think that’s fair.”

 

“The snow isn’t going anywhere, you two!”

 

“Except into my boots,” Kaoru mutters, and leans down, giving Natsume a swift, brief kiss on the mouth before stepping back. “Don’t talk into my head too much today, I’m still really bad at it and it’s obvious and distracting. Sorry. I’ll talk to you properly later.”

 

Natsume scowls at that, obviously annoyed that his one plan of pleasant conversation and distraction from Mao has been foiled. “All right,” he grouses. “But you’re _going_ to get better at it eventually. That’s how I like talking to people the most, and it’s way sneakier.”

 

“Please try not to forget that I’m really just a vanilla human with a fancy sword,” Kaoru implores. “Doing anything that feels like magic is messy for me and makes me nervous.”

 

“Paladins are using magic, even if it’s based on their beliefs and not an inner power source and you can’t change my mind,” Natsume hums, pressing a kiss to his cheek before briskly striding off to scoop up his cloak and bag. “Normal magic isn’t like Lord Rei’s magic, either. Stop being nervous, start being practical.”

 

“Paladins don’t use magic,” Kaoru groans, and opens the door, ignoring Mao as he straps his sword on properly. “Isara, do Enhanced use magic? Settle this debate.”

 

“Ehh…well, in a way,” Mao neutrally says, stepping back from the door to let Natsume stalk out. “We’re using—or at least, attempting to use—our own innate lifeforce to generate magical constructs, which mimics the way a wizard does it. There’s just only so far an Enhanced can go.”

 

“This is why you don’t ask an Enhanced anything.”

 

“Magic comes from innate talent,” Kaoru insists. “What paladins can do, anyone could do with training, same with Enhanced. And what other creatures can do is _power_ , but not magic. Isara, did you bring horses, since we’re in such a hurry?”

 

“‘Magic’ can be defined as—“

 

“Yes, I did,” Mao cheerfully interrupts, ignoring how Natsume hisses at him. He strides ahead, waving for them to follow. “I’ve already touched base with Lord Rei. He’s very excited to see the two of you.”

 

Guilt and eagerness flip against each other in Kaoru’s stomach, much the same way they had when he’d first seen Rei again after he’d managed to mute his bond for the first time. “I hope he has a plan,” he drawls. “Because all we’ve been getting is visions of doom. It’s bad for the sleep schedule when the innkeeper only has one nice bed. Did you enjoy sleeping by the hearth like a puppy?”

 

“It wouldn’t be the first time, nor will it be the last,” Mao says, with a wave to the innkeeper before opening the front door. With the sun as bright as it is, the snow is blindingly white, and Natsume promptly pulls his hood over his face. “You’ve been getting visions, too, Lord Kaoru? How ominous…”

 

Kaoru snorts, and brings up a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. “Ever tried to share a bed with a dreaming prophet? I said it was bad for my sleep, not that my dreams are being invaded. He kicks.”

 

“I already said I was sorry!” Natsume snaps, bundling himself up more tightly into his Nightcloak. “Don’t keep bringing it up, see if I say anything good about you to Lord Rei.”

 

“Prophets are difficult,” Mao lightly agrees, boots crunching on the barely-trodden, snowy pathway to the nearby barn. “Your Excellency, have you been having a lot of visions about the North?”

 

“I’m not talking about it with you.”

 

“That’s about par for the course. Right, well—Lord Rei’s plan _was_ fairly straightforward…until certain events occurred.”

 

“Certain events?” Kaoru asks wearily, rubbing his eyes. “Are you even allowed to tell us, or should we just sit on our horses and guess?” Carefully, he tries to send, _Do you ride sidesaddle? Or normal?_

 

Natsume’s head lifts up, a vaguely amused expression crossing over his face. _Both. Which would you rather see?_

 

Mao hesitates, sparing a glance back to Natsume before pulling out his horse first, a hefty cloud of dust arising from his fuzzy winter coat when he pats his neck. “I can tell you. It just might be…stressful to hear, first thing in the morning…”

 

“You’re stressful to listen to in general.” Natsume jumps back as one of the horses throws its head over the stall door, teeth bared. “Found the demon horse.”

 

“I’m not riding that,” Kaoru says immediately, eyeing the beast. “Rei’s demon mounts never like me.” _Little worried he might be able to hear us. A spy would be more effective if he could hear telepathy, don’t you think?_

 

“I’ll ride it, it’s fine,” Natsume grouses. “One of you just gets to throw me up onto it.” _This isn’t ‘telepathy’ as magic users know it. We’re talking through our bond. Watch his face._

 

Pointedly, Natsume pauses, reaching out a hand to the demon horse warily as it sniffs him, ears pinned, but doesn’t take a bite. The next thought he sends Kaoru is the ‘normal’ way, which he can already feel being so _much_ clumsier in Kaoru’s mind. _For a paladin, you’re awfully scared of demons._

 

Mao doesn’t pause or skip a beat, but an eyebrow does tick up as he throws his saddle onto his horse’s back.

 

“I told you not to do that,” Kaoru complains out loud, shaking his head as if there’s a bug buzzing around it. “Honestly, wizards are so intrusive. Oh, I’m taking the paint, she’s a pretty girl.” He holds out his knuckles to the mare, who sniffs them, then deliberately sneezes on his hand. “Yeah, I like her.”

 

“You deserve it for being such a coward,” Natsume airily says. “Demon horses can sense fear, you know.”

 

“They might also dislike his very large holy sword,” Mao mildly points out.

 

“No, he’s just a coward. Anyway, go ahead and tell us about the stressful things.”

 

“Once we’re on the road.” Mao spares Kaoru a glance out of the corner of his eye. “Neither of our horses are quite fast enough to keep up with the demon horse, so…we should be careful.”

 

Kaoru cocks an eyebrow. “You want to set up a meeting place for tonight, just in case he leaves us behind? Eh, might as well just tell him the wrong place, I’ll get a good night’s sleep.”

 

“I hate you both. I know how to ride, yes, even demon horses, _and_ I’m sensible enough to not run ahead, considering the circumstances!”

 

“He definitely runs off,” Mao tells Kaoru, entirely ignoring Natsume, save to watch in awe as he manages to saddle the demon beast without too much trouble. “He runs off and he does _not_ listen. This is only about an eight hour ride, at least, so there’s only so far he can go off-course.”

 

Kaoru shrugs. “Then give him directions, just in case. We’re all going the same way.” He saddles the mare, giving her a soft rub behind the ears, and swings into the saddle, adjusting his seat. “Ooh, where’d you get this lady? She’s gorgeous, I want to buy her.”

 

“She’s not for sale, I’m afraid, but thank you,” Mao hums, climbing up onto Buttons, his trusty steed who groans like it’s the worst thing in the world.

 

“She’s the soybean hater’s horse,” Natsume says with a roll of his eyes, hooking a foot into a notch in the stable wall, then pulling himself up into the side-saddle, surprisingly neat about it considering his own lack of height and the demon horse’s _excessive_ height. He smooths his skirts and pins back his hair with a little pinch of magic to hold it into place. “We’re going to Lord Rei, correct?”

 

“Yes—“

 

“I don’t need directions, then.”

 

With a click of his tongue, not a kick, the demon horse peels out of the barn’s hallway, kicking up snow and dirt in its wake, Natsume’s hair streaming behind him. Mao heaves a sigh, briefly shutting his eyes. “Working with wizards _will_ be the end of me,” he mutters. “We’ll talk, then. His Excellency can be…so, _so_ overbearing at times.”

 

Kaoru does not gaze sorrowfully after Natsume like a peasant wench whose husband has gone off to war. He doesn’t. “Excellent,” he says briskly, and kicks his horse into action, though hardly the action of Natsume’s ridiculous mount. “Catch me up, we’ve been deeply embroiled in paladin nonsense.”

 

Buttons does not like the snow. He makes his clear by staring at it, unmoving for a moment, before finally deciding to move. “Delightful beast, thank you,” Mao mutters, falling into stride with Kaoru. “So, I’m actually glad His Excellency has decided to go ahead so we can have this conversation properly.” Mao inhales, then exhales. “His Excellency Wataru is gone.”

 

“Useless bastard,” Kaoru mutters. “Everyone trusted him, and he goes back to Eichi after all? Nightcloaks really are the worst.”

 

“No, Lord Kaoru. I mean…gone. Gone, as in as close to ‘dead’ as an Airbred can be.”

 

There’s a long beat, where all Kaoru can hear are his horse’s hooves clipping against the snow-covered road. “He can’t be,” he says slowly, trying to piece that together. “What…what happened?”

 

“I wasn’t there, but…from what Lord Rei told me, he, ah…” Mao flutters a hand. “Simply stopped existing? As much as one can. He was incredibly upset, thinking His Excellency Natsume was dead. And from there, he…was gone. With a bit of an explosion, but nevertheless, he was just…gone.”

 

Kaoru tries to reconcile that with what he knows, and shakes his head, confused, and very sternly restraining himself from reaching out to Natsume in any way. “But he’ll be back. Like you said, Airbred can’t—why did he think Natsume—but Natsume _Saw_ him in the future, so he’ll be back, his visions can’t be avoided.”

 

Mao frowns at that. “His Excellency Saw him in the future? Has he told you about those visions? If so, please enlighten me. He obviously hasn’t spoken to me about it, nor to Lord Rei, and if His Excellency Wataru returns in his visions…then we need to know about it.”

 

Kaoru hesitates. “He hasn’t told me much,” he lies, “but I’m sure he’s on his way to tell Rei. And he’s going there as fast as a demon can carry him, yeah?”

 

Mao’s head cocks. “He told you that he Saw His Excellency Wataru in the future, though. In what capacity? As friend or as foe? It’s important that we know. His Excellency Natsume…well. I know you’ve spent some time around him, but he’s not always the most forthcoming.”

 

“…Foe,” Kaoru finally says. “So if you can get that message to Rei, do it. He was working with Eichi.”

 

Mao nods, turning his gaze forward again. “Thank you. I know it’s probably a bit difficult for you to be open with me,” he brightly says. “But I appreciate any and all cooperation. Especially when it comes to anything His Excellency Natsume has Seen—again, he likes to withhold a great number of his visions, even from Lord Rei. It’s troublesome, but that’s wizards, I suppose.”

 

“The more you fake that smile, the harder it is for me,” Kaoru says quietly. “But I know you’re loyal to Rei. You don’t have a choice.”

 

“Right…about that…” Mao sighs, leaning back in his saddle. “Lord Kaoru, I know you think all thralls are created equally—and by that, I mean you think they’re all absolutely terrible.”

 

“Thank you for oversimplifying my conviction to make me sound like a self-righteous idiot, but go on,” Kaoru suggests.

 

“Needs must,” Mao lightly says. “You’ve never asked me about it. You just automatically assume I’m miserable and want to be free of it.”

 

Kaoru shrugs a shoulder. “If he wanted you to be happy about being thralled, you’d be happy. And he does want you to be happy, because he’s not heartless. It’s not your fault, I don’t blame you for it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not wrong, and it makes me uncomfortable.”

 

“I didn’t say I was happy. Paladins do like to assume things.” Mao shrugs a shoulder. “What I didn’t say is that I find it incredibly useful, and we want the same thing, usually, so I don’t see a problem with it…except when I’m supposed to be visiting someone near the Capital and I end up having to stay North far longer than necessary and _then_ end up having to pick up a rogue wizard and his new paladin friend. Then I’m stressed. But that’s par for the course, with this family.” He glances over at Kaoru. “At the end of the day, thralls aren’t so different than bonds.”

 

“But you don’t _know_ that,” Kaoru stresses, hands fiddling with his reins. “You can’t know that, because anything you say, anything you _think_ , that could be what he wants you to think, and you’d never even know it.”

 

“And that’s why I said that you think every single thrall is the same.”

 

Kaoru wants, so badly, to look away from the young man. Now that he knows what to look for, the ugly pulse of the thrall is unmistakeable, thrumming just out of reach of his senses. He forces himself not to, and turns to face Mao. “I’m willing to be educated,” he says, as neutrally as he can manage.

 

“Everyone says I was too young to agree to any sort of contract, but the same could be said for any wizard blooming before the age of twelve.” Mao’s eyebrows raise. “But that’s what it is: a contract. He’s never forced me to do something I wouldn’t have had to do as someone working for the Academy. My skills as an Enhanced are also far greater because of it, so I’m safer, in this line of work, and…” He trails off, sounding a little exasperated. “It’s Rei. How bad do you really think it could be? He’s always told me…if I’m done, then he’s done.”

 

“If I didn’t believe he’d done it with the best of intentions, I wouldn’t be on my way to see him right now,” Kaoru says gently. “He probably even believes that he’d take it off you in a second. Maybe. Except…he thralled you to keep the Emperor out of your mind. Why didn’t he take it off when the Emperor died?”

 

“Because he likes having a human spy and I like being capable of putting a Nooncloak flat on their ass if they act up like a toddler.”

 

Kaoru grimaces. “Even though you know he could be overriding your will at any time? Maybe not even consciously, I know he’s a good person—again, I’m married to him—but without even _him_ knowing it? Is it really worth it because you see yourself as useful?”

 

“I can count on one hand the number of times his will has actually been a problem for me, and every single time, it has been the previous Emperor’s fault.” Mao shrugs a shoulder, glancing away again. “Do you know _why_ I like being useful, Lord Kaoru?”

 

“You mean about your sister? I’ve heard,” Kaoru says, as gently as he can. “What they did, that’s awful. But it doesn’t excuse what Rei did, even if you wanted him to. That’s like saying murder is fine, if the person was suicidal anyway.”

 

“My sister is part of it, but not the whole reason…but if that’s the way you’re going to think about it, then I have nothing else to add. If a human’s consenting, paladins should keep their nose out of it, I think—or else, you might want to start actually cracking down on the demons that feed on humans consensually, too.”

 

Kaoru grimaces, and holds up his hands. “Fair enough a point. I can concede that.”

 

“So with that in mind,” Mao lightly says, “please stop talking to me like I have no say in this. It’s really condescending…and furthermore—let’s focus on the issues at hand, and how I’m a very useful source of information, if you want to utilize that.”

 

Every part of Kaoru—or at least, the parts he listens to the most when he’s got this cloak on—wants to press on, but he refrains, nodding slowly. “All right. Sorry. And if you ever want out, let me know. Go on, what happened once Wataru disappeared?”

 

“It’s more of what didn’t happen. His Excellency Kanata had a bit of a meltdown about it, so Lord Rei was forced to stop and deal with that immediately…and sent me off, because at that point, he was also fairly convinced His Excellency Natsume was dead.” Mao rakes a hand back through his hair. “Finding you two was a lot of work for sure. The…Conclave? Or whatever. That Lord Rei first sent me to. That place is nooo good.”

 

“Ooh, he sent you there? He must have been _really_ worried about me.” Kaoru’s stomach twists. “Sorry. Could everyone there tell?”

 

“I don’t know if you know this, but all of the Nightcloaks are a bit…attached at the hip. His Excellency Natsume is also their pride and joy, more or less,” Mao wryly says. “It’s the one thing they can all agree on at any given time. So yes…they could all tell. Combined with concern about you, Lord Rei was distracted enough to pause his mission to save the entire realm.”

 

Kaoru doesn’t correct Mao—he’d meant, _Did everyone at the Conclave know that you’re thralled?_ but if that’s not what Mao’s talking about, he’s not going to bring it up. “Don’t blame him, please. Or me, honestly. We were kind of kidnapped by people who cut off all magic.”

 

“Oh, I’m not blaming anyone. I’m just stating what happened. Mmm…right, so, with that in mind. There’s a number of things concerning the North, if you want to know? Or Lord Rei can brief you, perhaps even more thoroughly.”

 

“Whatever you say is basically the version he wants me to have anyway, right?” Kaoru asks practically. “Ah, can your horse move any faster? Tell me what you can, please.”

 

“Listen, Buttons is trying his best,” Mao sighs, kicking his horse forward all the same, who grumbles a little as a result, tripping over a nonexistent mound of snow. “Small blessings first—the North is basically empty of humans. We succeeded in evacuating the men that remained to the West, and the women…well, they’re in safe hands. The negative, of course, is that the archdemon taking control up there has done as much, and thoroughly. He’s even managed to shoo the Wolf Clans out.”

 

“Those great hairy brutes took orders from a drude?” Kaoru asks, eyes wide. “Just how powerful is this thing? And…ah, you sound as if you’re setting the stage for a rather dark moment, up there.”

 

“It already was. It wasn’t exactly a feat to clear out those that remained…most of them were slaughtered.” Mao shakes his head. “The Wolf Clans didn’t take orders from them. They left for their own safety. Koga is sulking about with Lord Rei right now. It’s just safer for it to be empty, especially after some of the things I’ve been hearing from Ritsu.”

 

“What’s Eichi doing?” Kaoru asks bluntly. “He’s the one making all the trouble, isn’t he? Is he finally moving in the open? How are Izumi and Arashi? Has anyone found the king?”

 

“We don’t know. Our best guess is that the previous Emperor’s in the North now. Up until now, every move has been made by the archdemon already present there, and his drude. He’s certainly not powerful enough at the moment that we can properly sense him, if that’s what you’re asking. No one has found the king. No one is looking. And Ritsu has reported to me that they’re alive.” Mao grimaces. “But not much else. Conversation between the Shadowlands right now is difficult, considering how Lord Rei has it all on lockdown.”

 

“Rei’s acting King of the Demons again,” Kaoru says quietly. It isn’t a question, not with the way the demons had questioned them at the border. “What about…” Best not to ask about his child. The less spoken, the less _thought_ of, the better. “What about Kanata? You haven’t said much.”

 

“Alive. Stressed, but alive. It’s been a long time, since he’s been this far away from High Harbor. His Excellency Wataru’s…disappearance,” Mao diplomatically begins, “put quite a wrench in Lord Rei’s plans. Storming the Northern gates, so to speak, with him, plus His Excellency Kanata, would have been a fairly easy feat. Now…it’s questionable.”

 

“What are the gates—I’m assuming this is metaphorical, but what is the enemy’s stronghold like? Defenses? Allies?” Kaoru slips into his Captain’s voice without meaning to.

 

“They’ve taken over the North’s castle and estates. What’s left of it, I should say; I don’t know if you’ve ever been to the true North deep within Sena, Lord Kaoru—but it’s not like the Capital. This isn’t any stronghold with moats and walls to defend it. It’s just the Northern mountains and the passageways therein that keep it safe, especially in these months.” Mao chews on his lower lip. “Which is why having His Excellency Natsume focused would be helpful. It would be no large feat for him to teleport those necessary beyond those mountains. The only other pathway is through the Shadowlands, which…again, that won’t happen right now. To the best of our knowledge, it’s just the archdemon and his drude still there at this time. There are a pair of wizards at the Northern outpost, and…one of them is questionably loyal to the previous Emperor,” Mao wearily admits. “Along with the Enhanced that was supposed to monitor them.”

 

“So they’re a party of three, perhaps four?” Kaoru asks, eyebrows raised. “And we’re…even with our strength lessened, we have Rei, Kanata, and Natsume, as well as the rest of us petty mortals.”

 

“Assume the previous Emperor and the archdemon he’s bringing along will join them. So a party of four, perhaps five, maybe six.” Mao hesitates. “Lord Rei wouldn’t want me voicing this concern, but…I wouldn’t count His Excellency Kanata as a part of this. Without being able to feed, his power is significantly lessened once he’s expended it…and he’s a healer, at his core.”

 

“I’ve seen some Wavebred do some serious damage in my day,” Kaoru says archly. “I wouldn’t count him out just yet. He’s powerful, if his friends are in trouble, he’ll be there.”

 

“You can feed him yourself when we get there, then, to boost his morale,” Mao mildly retorts. “I’m merely reporting on what I saw.”

 

 _God, I wish I could._ Kaoru flutters a hand. “Go on. What’s our status? Encampment, morale, troops, assets?”

 

“We have Lord Rei. And presumably His Excellency Kanata and His Excellency Natsume. And you.” Mao shrugs. “Lord Rei is obviously our biggest asset. The state of our enemies being unknown is the problem…but I do know that Lord Rei is well-fed and uninterested in damages occurred, which is usually why he’s inclined to hold back.”

 

“I meant other assets, like balustrades, trebuchets—what do you mean, uninterested in damages?” Kaoru asks, suddenly alarmed. “That’s not like him. And for that matter, why did he reignite the border war?”

 

“Lord Kaoru—the North is already a magical wasteland,” Mao bluntly says. “There’s no need for extensive care at this point so long as our wizards can get in and attack, and subsequently, close the Sorrow’s Gate. That’s why Lord Rei doesn’t care…among a few other reasons, but…mm. As for why he reignited the border war—I…thought you knew? It was immediately after your imprisonment.”

 

“Then why did he send Natsume to get me out?” Kaoru asks irritably. “That doesn’t make any sense. He’d know we’d have to be going through their territory, and the paladins that imprisoned me weren’t the ones who patrol the border!”

 

Mao shrugs harder, as if that will help. “I don’t know. Ask him to clarify.”

 

“Well he’s not here, so I’m asking you,” Kaoru says, as sweetly as he can. “Since he sent you. Kindly.”

 

“I’d be happy to tell you more, but I’m telling you what was relayed to me,” Mao wearily says. “If it doesn’t make sense, you can take it up with him personally.”

 

“Fine. What have been the enemy movements in the past three days? What situation are we walking into? Literally walking, if your horse has anything to say about it.”

 

“He can go fast when he wants to! That’s just not right now.” Mao heaves a sigh. “Lord Rei didn’t make it to Sena yet; just the outskirts. He would’ve been there already, hopefully heading the previous Emperor off at the pass, but this whole thing with His Excellency Wataru happened…”

 

“Tell me more about that,” Kaoru says, switching topics. “Everything you saw or heard.”

 

“I wasn’t there for it. Lord Rei relayed it to me, though; apparently, His Excellency Wataru suddenly stopped sensing His Excellency Natsume’s presence in this world and…lost it.” Mao shivers. “Completely. Several dozen of Lord Rei’s guard were lost. These weren’t throw-away demons, either; compare them to the level of Nooncloaks, comfortably.”

 

“He destroyed _Rei’s_ people?” Kaoru asks, alarmed. “Natsume was convinced Wataru was furious at him, rather than being upset he was gone.”

 

“Was he?” Mao’s expression doesn’t change, though his eyes do slide back to Kaoru a bit more sharply. “What else did he mention to you, Lord Kaoru, even though he hasn’t told you much?”

 

“He just said that Wataru told him once that if he ever looked away, they were through. That’s what happened with the previous Emperor and Wataru, apparently.”

 

“For the record,” Mao blithely says, “this is more than His Excellency Natsume usually shares. Perhaps revise your story for Lord Rei, if you’re trying to hide something. Ah, but that aside—I can’t comment to what His Excellency Wataru’s exact reasons for…self-destructing were. That’s another question for Lord Rei.”

 

Kaoru turns to face forward, his jaw set. “People probably wouldn’t find talking to you so obnoxious if you weren’t such a little nitpicker,” he observes.

 

“Ehhh…that’s a little harsh…it’s sort of my job to nitpick and keep things working correctly, you know…”

 

“Is there a way you could do that without sounding like you’ve got everyone’s every movement under your unrelenting surveillance, and you can’t wait to tattle to your Mommy? Just curious.”

 

“ _I_ was just trying to keep you from getting in trouble with Lord Rei,” Mao says. “But if you’d like me to stop, I will, after one last suggestion.”

 

“By all means,” Kaoru says with a sigh. “Bestow it on me.”

 

“Maybe, before we arrive tonight, suggest to His Excellency Natsume that he change into something more high-collared. Or I have a scarf he can borrow, if that helps.”

 

“His Excellency Natsume can do whatever he damn well pleases,” Kaoru says, unconcerned. “I don’t know what he got up to when we were where we were, which is incidentally something I’m not at liberty to tell you about.”

 

Mao side-eyes him a moment longer before shrugging, and kicking his horse forward. “All right, whatever you say. It’s your funeral.”

 

Just out of annoyance, Kaoru kicks his own horse forward, clicking to her until he passes Mao, following the oddly-spaced tracks of the demon horse far in front of them. _Natsume_ , he calls, as “quietly” as he can manage, _I’m going to kill this kid. Cover your neck before you get to Rei._

 

_What?_

 

There’s a lengthy pause.

 

_Oh._

 

Embarrassment and irritation slides back through their bond. _I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him—_

 

 _Yeah, love. Me too. He makes the back of my neck itch._ Kaoru can’t keep himself from smiling, even so. _It’s good to hear your voice, even like this._

 

 _Just kill him. Lord Rei would forgive you._ A hesitant, but affectionate flutter follows that. _For someone that’s terrible at telepathy, you’re picking this up fairly quickly. Good job._

 

_I keep thinking I’m doing it wrong. How do I know I’m not doing it in the way that he can hear?_

 

 _One, I’d scold you. Two, you probably wouldn’t be able to do it at all._ Amusement follows those words. _Three…the easy way to tell is if you can feel emotions, too. Normal telepathy is just formed thought, not feeling._

 

_I don’t want to be away from you. There, that’s as much feeling as I have to send._

 

_Then ride faster and catch up and leave that idiot behind. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can be done with this mess._

 

_I already left him behind, his gelding is as fast as molasses going uphill in winter on crutches. How close are you to Rei?_

 

_That’s Buttons, yep. I’m still a few hours out because I’m playing at having a normal horse. See you when we get there, I guess._

 

 _See you then, sweetheart._ With a weary sigh, Kaoru slows his mare to a trot, waiting for Mao and Buttons.

 

Even at a much faster pace, it’s a solid six and a half hours of riding before they all reach camp—an abandoned house within the outskirt villages of Sena, barricaded from the cold as much as possible, and with enough spellwork about it that even Natsume pauses on the outskirts of the town road, wary to approach.

 

It’s there he waits, his mount snorting and pawing until Mao and Kaoru approach about an hour later, the moon reflecting over the entirely frozen landscape. “Took you all long enough,” he mutters, shivering as he huddles into his Nightcloak.

 

“Sorry. Buttons goes at Buttons pace,” Mao says, muffling a yawn behind one hand as he plods up. “Here we are, though.”

 

He nudges Buttons forward, directly into the netting of magic about the area, and it immediately creates a gateway for them to all walk through, as if Mao is the key. “Come on, then, it’s late.”

 

It takes all the self-control Kaoru has not to grab Natsume and inhale his scent, face buried in his neck. Mm. No. Best not. Even though it would probably be easy to get him alone, and back him up against one of the big old trees outside in the snow, and have him right—

 

 _If you felt that,_ he sends, following in Mao’s wake, _sorry!_

 

Natsume nearly falls off of his horse.

 

“You okay, Excellency?” Mao calls back.

 

“Yes, shut up! I’m just tired, go to hell and die.”

 

“Okie dokie, will do.”

 

_Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you._

 

_Sorry! I didn’t mean to! But incidentally all of it is true and I want to shove you up against a tree and suck your cock until you pass out._

 

_STOP IT I really don’t want to show up and see Lord Rei like this!!_

 

Unfortunately for him, it’s the next house they approach that Mao stops at, sliding off of Buttons with a long, weary sigh. The horse lets out a similar sound, albeit more grumpily. “Our home away from home. Excellency, do you need a hand?”

 

“No! Fuck off.”

 

Natsume hastily dismounts, smoothing his skirts as the front door to the little house opens, and Rei himself leans against the doorframe, as awake as if it were daylight, wrapped in his Nightcloak. “Thank goodness,” he exhales without pause, striding forward and down the snowy cobblestones, sweeping both arms around Natsume and embracing him so tightly that it immediately lifts him off the ground. “You scared us all to death, child.”

 

Rei’s eyes slide up to Kaoru, the relief there palpable as well. “You as well, Kaoru.”

 

In spite of his concern, Natsume’s arms lock around Rei’s neck, remaining there as he shivers from the cold. “Sorry,” he mumbles, his face muffled from where he presses it into Rei’s hair. “I didn’t realize.”

 

“We really didn’t,” Kaoru says quietly, and feels a huge swell of relief when the affection, the love he’s felt for a hundred and fifty years, feels unchanged. “I’m sorry, Rei. We had no idea, and weren’t given much of a choice. You look good, for all of it. My nighttime Rei.”

 

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad to see that you’re both safe.” Rei’s head cocks as he hoists Natsume up as if he weighs nothing, carrying him neatly in the crook of one arm, obviously uninterested in letting him go after worrying for days. “Are you riding…you are. That’s Keito’s horse, how cute.” He holds out his other hand, offering it to Kaoru as he catches Kaoru’s gaze, his own glittering deep red. “Come. There’s a lot we need to catch up on, I imagine.”

 

“So much,” Kaoru agrees, and he takes Rei’s hand without hesitation, sharing his warmth with Rei’s cold fingers without a second thought as they move inside. “Did I ever tell you about the Svalde?”

 

“Not at all,” Rei hums, leaving Mao to deal with two very tired horses and one very evil demon mare as he leads the way inside, nudging the door open with his foot. “Please, educate me. Are they the reason why I thought my little cat was dead and gone?”

 

“Yes,” Natsume darkly says, fingers now deeply rooted within Rei’s hair, though he immediately begins to shiver less as they step inside, the room feeling much like it’s being heated from far more than just the single fireplace that doesn’t seem to really be burning anything.

 

“A branch of the paladins,” Kaoru clarifies. “We went to look up our enemies on our way here, at their enormous library. We didn’t know, but the library cuts off all magic. Natsume didn’t even get a single vision while we were there, it was spooky as the hells.”

 

“Oh, is that where the library is?” Rei asks, collapsing back into a pile of furs without care. It rustles a bit oddly, which seems likely connected to the occasional, odd plant growth that peeks out from the old house’s woodwork. “Not in the Conclave?”

 

“There’s a library there, too, but they’re all…” Natsume hesitates, and glances back to Kaoru. _How much of this am I supposed to not repeat?_

 

That hesitation doesn’t go unnoticed. “You two have become close,” Rei idly remarks, giving Kaoru’s hand a tug. “I have tea, by the way, if you want it. And I _think_ Koga brought home a deer. Not to my taste, but if you’re hungry…”

 

Kaoru opens his mouth, then closes it, surprised, and shakes his head. “I…don’t remember the last time I ate,” he mutters, a little confused. “We didn’t really…it was weird, Rei. The whole thing, the library, all of it…super weird, and not an experience I really want to repeat. But we have some good information for you on the archdemon, and the drude.”

 

“That I’m happy to hear, at least. Let’s see you both fed first, though, if that’s the case. This is why I hate paladins. No offense intended,” Rei says with a flutter of a hand towards Kaoru. “And you, Natsume—“

 

“I’m not hungry.” Natsume huddles up further against Rei’s chest. “I just want to sleep.”

 

“At least drink some tea, love. You should stay hydrated, especially if you’re going to be this cuddly,” Rei teases, tilting Natsume’s chin up with one finger.

 

Natsume’s cheeks immediately flush, but the sudden, stark confusion of blood callings versus even more intense magical constructs at play just makes a quiet, stressed noise leave his throat.

 

Rei blinks, then shrugs, pulling his hand back to pat Natsume’s head instead. “Or you can just sleep.”

 

An exhausted, relieved nod follows.

 

“Very well. There’s one other room, and Kanata is resting in there as well. Do you want to join him?”

 

“…That might be good.” Natsume’s eyes flicker to Kaoru briefly. “I think Kaoru wanted to check on Lord Kanata, too?”

 

“Then by all means, let him put you to bed,” Rei drawls, releasing Natsume and leaning back, resting his head in one hand. “I will warn you, Kaoru. Kanata’s a bit nippy at the moment.”

 

“Nothing I can’t handle, I’m sure,” Kaoru drawls, and gives Rei’s hand a squeeze, his own eyelids suddenly drooping. “Ah…we didn’t get any sleep last night,” he says, stifling a yawn. “The prophet kicks when the dreams are bad, and the Inn only had one bed. I’ll sit up with you if you need me to, though.”

 

_This is hard. We’re going to need to tell him soon, I can’t keep lying for long. Not to him._

 

“Then let the cute prophet go sleep with the fish that doesn’t mind being kicked in his sleep, and you stay out here.” Rei’s fingers curl with Kaoru’s. “As you know, I’m well-versed on companions that are not nocturnal.”

 

“That seems good,” Natsume says, maybe too-quickly, needing to convince himself as he pulls himself out of the pile of furs, smoothing his skirts. “You deserve to get some proper sleep.”

 

_He can already tell something is going on. That’s why I didn’t want you to keep teasing me! You’re married to him, obviously you should know by now that he can see, hear, and smell when someone’s even remotely turned on!_

 

_I don’t know what to do. Ugh. It’s dangerous for me to lie to him about this, he’s going to find out._

 

_I knoooow. But he’s going to be upset, I don’t want him to be angry with me, not right now…_

 

Rei’s long fingers slowly drum against his cheek as he watches them, eyes slitted and glowing in the low light. “Whenever you two are done,” he mildly says, “let me know.”

 

Natsume’s head jerks up, his face flushing more than ever. “Eh? Done? With what?”

 

“With your conversation. I can’t hear it, don’t worry,” Rei says, in answer to the confusion on Natsume’s face, “but you both look so intent. It’s charming, especially with you, Kaoru.”

 

“I hate magic and I’m bad at it,” Kaoru says unhappily, turning and butting his head against Rei’s shoulder. “And he wants to do it all the time. Spell the place so no one can hear this room, would you? We need to talk.”

 

Rei immediately threads his fingers through Kaoru’s hair, petting him slowly, and Natsume resignedly collapses back down next to them, huddled up into a tiny ball. “It’s quite thoroughly spelled, but—“ A flick of a finger, and the room glitters deep purple from the intensity of the magical webbing about it, looking almost like cobwebs from how it clings to every crevice. “More, at your request.”

 

“Natsume,” Kaoru says quietly, letting his arms go around Rei’s waist. “Touch him. Let him see.”

 

Natsume wavers, shivering nervously where he curls up. “…I don’t want to.”

 

“Little cat.” Rei shifts, his other hand cupping underneath Natsume’s chin. “Natsume. When have I _ever_ been angry with you?”

 

Natsume bites at his lower lip, chewing slowly before he nods, reluctantly, and lifts his hand to curl it against Rei’s. Within his own vision, the room lights up like a city—covered in magic, dripping from the ceiling, the walls, the floor, with the center of that light two golden cords. One, wrapped around Rei in huge, doubled-over knots, shoots out over the snow, and the second, stretched between himself and Kaoru, crossing over where Rei sits between them.

 

“…Ah.” Rei pauses, takes a breath, and then pauses again. “How…interesting.”

 

“Unexpected.” Kaoru spreads his hands, helpless. “I still don’t understand it. Ah, it’s some kind of cosmic joke, isn’t it? First you, then immediately after you figure out how to get around yours…I find him.” There’s no hiding the affection in that last word, and Kaoru’s eyes flick to the side, catching Natsume’s for a moment.

 

That doesn’t go unnoticed by Rei, whose sharp eyes follow the movement before sliding back to Kaoru in an instant. “I’m of…several minds, suddenly. One—oh, good, my precious Natsume is with someone safe, and sane, and good.”

 

“Lord Rei—“

 

“But two—that person happens to be my husband…”

 

“Please don’t be upset.”

 

“I’m not upset, child. Three—my husband is a known, horrific pervert.”

 

“ _Lord Rei.”_

 

“Four—somehow, the idea of you touching him,” Rei breathes, turning more towards Kaoru, tucking his fangs back in with a press of his tongue, “makes me want to rip you to pieces. Has he been behaving himself, Natsume?”

 

“I’m going to bed!” Natsume hastily says, bolting upright and darting to the other door.

 

“Make your escape, kittycat,” Kaoru calls, contentedly relaxing back against the sofa, one arm around Rei, entirely unthreatened by his little display. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Mm, Rei…are those your only four thoughts?” He lowers his voice, and says, much more quietly, “I’m a little upset. This shit should be consensual.”

 

Rei’s eyes track Natsume, far more concerned than he previously let on, until the door opens and closes firmly. “…I have many other thoughts. That’s one that certainly comes to mind, and came to my mind…for a long while.” Rei leans back, pushing his hair back from his face. “Dreadful. Honestly, dreadful. And terrible timing.” He glances back down to Kaoru, frowning. “How are you? Honestly. The room is warded, just don’t speak into your own mind…apparently.”

 

“…Stressed,” Kaoru admits softly. “This is bad timing. And I miss…who I used to be. But…” His mouth twitches. “I can’t be unhappy about it. I was falling for him before the bond happened. I don’t regret who it is, just the timing of it.”

 

“You still seem like Kaoru to me, for what it’s worth,” Rei mildly says, toying with the ends of his hair. “And you’re handling it much better than I did. Though to be fair, I didn’t know Shu at all beforehand.” His expression shifts, a mix of fond and wry. “Natsume is a good child. I’m glad you find him as delightful as I do.”

 

“He’s _wonderful_.” Kaoru gives Rei a rueful smile, and shifts closer, resting his head on Rei’s shoulder. “He’s quick-witted, and kind, and powerful, and so funny…not very, ah, adventurous, but if we make it through the next week, I’ve got plenty of time to work on that.”

 

Rei’s arm slings more comfortably about Kaoru’s waist, his fingers pressing gently into his side. “Kaoru. You know I love you.”

 

“Ah, a patronizing compliment. Go on, tell me what comes next so I can glare at you.”

 

“But I think it’s less that he’s not adventurous, and more that he’s incredibly inexperienced. He’s been with another man…oh, barely over a dozen times.”

 

Kaoru gives him a suspicious look. “He was with Wataru for like, three years,” he says doubtfully. “I don’t think your math is right.”

 

“They were at war. And,” Rei gently continues, “Wataru isn’t human. The comfort of having someone in your warm bed at night after a long day of fighting didn’t occur to him.”

 

Kaoru cocks his head to the side. “What about Tsumugi? Surely…”

 

“Three times, or something like that.”

 

“Ehhhh?” Kaoru’s eyes are as wide of saucers. “What the fuck? Why not more? Look at Natsume!”

 

“Because they, also, were caught up in the middle of a war.” Rei smiles at him wryly. “Believe me. I know. I look at him.”

 

Kaoru shakes his head. “This is insane. I never expected…not this. Damn, why does he love blue-haired creatures so much?”

 

“I have no idea, but he seems to like you well enough.” Rei’s eyes lid as he plucks at a strand of Kaoru’s hair. “Be patient with him. He’s not an honest creature by nature. Or…perhaps a better word is ‘secretive.’”

 

“He’s like a cat,” Kaoru agrees softly. “Honest about everything except his emotions.”

 

“He’s absolutely a cat. And just as cute.” Rei exhales. “I know you’ll be kind to him, because it’s you. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather him be bonded to, but it’s still…hm.”

 

“Yeah.” Kaoru snuggles up to Rei, and rests his head on Rei’s shoulder. “I’m glad I can still touch you.”

 

“Gods, me, too,” Rei bemoans, wrapping his arms more securely about Kaoru to tug him closer. “I couldn’t touch _anyone_ after I found out about Shu.”

 

“Before you get relieved, flirting with girls no longer excites me,” Kaoru warns tiredly. “No idea if it’ll work for you.”

 

“Want to try?” Rei idly asks, running his fingertips down Kaoru’s spine. “We can test it.”

 

Kaoru closes his eyes, and leans against Rei, letting him touch. After a minute, he shakes his head. “Nothing. Sorry.”

 

“Hmmm.” Rei bites back his own displeasure about that, and the reflexive suggestions that he wants to offer. “Lucky you, that you’re bonded to someone that makes such a lovely lady, then.”

 

Kaoru snorts. “If he liked that, sure.”

 

Rei blinks, his head tilting. “Did he tell you as much?” he asks. “He lived as the Isles’ version of a princess until I took him to the Mainland, and then, as a noblewoman in High Harbor. He’s a delightful lady.”

 

“He told me,” Kaoru says patiently, “that he only does it for his gods, and he only acted like a woman because Mainlanders are backwards, but he doesn’t like it.”

 

“Uh…huh. I think that’s the little cat talking, not Natsume.”

 

“Listen, I’ve never been bonded before, I’m not going to force him to do stuff he tells me he doesn’t like just because it would get me off!”

 

Rei leans back, holding up his hands. “Realize who you’re talking to,” he patiently says. “Am I the kind of person that would suggest that? I’m only saying it because I’ve noticed differently. He’s just been with two men that were always adamant that they liked when he acted like a man.”

 

Kaoru sighs, and holds up his hands. “When the world isn’t exploding, I’ll try to talk to him some more. All right? That’s all I can give you.”

 

“You don’t have to report to me about it. I’m just trying to help, for both of your sakes.” Rei slouches back down, sprawling out. “You could always consider putting a block on your bond, if it’s troublesome enough.”

 

“Again…if we survive,” Kaoru says wearily. “Which seems kind of in doubt at the moment, but I’d absolutely love to try.”

 

“Well, Natsume hasn’t had any premonitions of death, has he?” Rei mildly asks, rolling partially to the side. “They’re usually quite obvious. Oh, yes, good, I knew I had some left,” he gleefully says, hoisting up a bottle full of swirling purple liquid. “Want a drink while we discuss, love?”

 

“Gods, I thought you’d never ask,” Kaoru says in utter, obvious relief. “Please tell me that’s the stuff grown by little demon bees in your private estate or whatever, the shit that got me yelling on the cliffs naked that time.”

 

“You _know_ it is.” Rei uncorks the bottle, takes a swig directly from it, and passes it over. “So. Tell me the wonders of your paladin library, and what was discovered there, for starters.”

 

“It’s the library that the paladin elite don’t want anyone to know about,” Kaoru says, taking an enormous drink, then a second one. His stomach senses it, turns over, then finally, _finally_ remembers that it is a tool meant to digest things. “Oh, thank the gods, now I’m starving, find me food or let me die.”

 

“Give me a minute,” Rei sighs, hauling himself up after a moment of willing long limbs to work. “There’s venison,” he tosses over his shoulder, flipping open the rather large chest and pulling out a hunk of the meat. “Koga seared it earlier. Want to gnaw on it? Are you going to be scolded and imprisoned again if you tell me about this paladin library?”

 

“When you say seared, do you mean he literally just flashed it near a fire then started gnawing on it still-bleeding?” Kaoru asks dubiously. “I’ve had experience with his…well, I suppose cooking isn’t a really good word for it.”

 

Rei calmly stabs the slab with a knife, holding it up for Kaoru’s perusal. “It at least looks like he put salt on it. Give it a go, I’ll grow you some herbs if you want extra flavor.”

 

Kaoru hesitates, then shrugs, and grabs the knife as well, taking a huge bite. “This is fine. I’m hungry enough to eat my boots. I must be, if even the puppy’s cooking tastes heavenly.”

 

“Wash it down with more Shadewine, it’ll taste even better,” Rei sweetly says, collapsing back down in a pile of his cloak and hair, offering up the bottle again. “So why did you have to go to a secret paladin library instead of the one in the Conclave?”

 

“The library in the Conclave,” Kaoru says around a mouthful, washing down the meat gratefully, taking another bite immediately after he swallows, “is unfortunately run by the Conclave, and they imprisoned me, I’m assuming because of some…well, that goes back to what I’m trying to say. The Hilbrandt—they run the Conclave, if I’ve never told you—they keep a really censored library, full of all the texts that make the paladins look really good and holy. It’s for visitors, mostly.”

 

“You never talk to me about paladins, other than names. I know the Hilbrandt are dreadful, demonstrably so. I want them dead.” Rei pulls the bottle back over, holding it for a moment before he takes a sip. “They’re censored to the point there’s nothing of value there, then? Delightful, good to know.”

 

“So we went to the other library. The secret library. The one run by paladins who _only_ collect knowledge. We didn’t know they also bar all magic from going in or coming out.”

 

“I see. That would explain why even I thought my little cat was dead. Unpleasant, that.”

 

“They blindfolded us on the way in and out, so I can’t find my way back. Oh, and they burned all the notes we tried to hide when we left. Even the ones in a rather, ah, intimate area that’s served me well in the past.”

 

“Alas. A good thing Natsume has such a keen memory, then. I’ll quiz him later—you can tell me the highlights.”

 

“Sure.” Kaoru gulps down the last of the venison, and takes another thorough swig of Shadewine. “I can kill the drude, there’s a chance we can get through to Nagisa, Wataru is working with Eichi, Eichi was the first paladin, he was in love with you, Tsumugi was a drude, and Eichi is insane. Highlights.”

 

“Bad highlights, thank you. Start with point one. Also, thoughts on opium on this cold night?”

 

“I’m not going to say no to anything you give me right now,” Kaoru says, trying not to sound quite so grateful. “I wish I could give Natsume something to help him sleep.”

 

Rei shoots him a vaguely amused, fond look as he reaches for his pipe, letting Kaoru hold onto the Shadewine for now. “You’re very cute about him. I’m glad. Ah, but I’m sure he’s told you there’s not much to be done there…it’s not that he does’t sleep, it’s just that he doesn’t sleep deeply, ever, like the rest of us,” Rei absently says, lighting the pipe with a flick of his finger. “Tell me how you can kill the drude.”

 

“With my sword.” Kaoru grins, and holds the pipe, waiting for that sickly-sweet scent to start filtering out before he takes a long puff. “That’s not facetious. He can be killed by a paladin with “truth’s own sword,” which is an old phrase for the sword that was made for them. So I can kill him, if I’m acting as a paladin, a real one. With my own sword.”

 

“…And you _don’t_ have to die?” Rei skeptically says, propping his head into his hand as he watches the smoke curl upward. “This isn’t you lying to me so I’ll let you go up North, is it? I won’t have you throwing yourself on drude or Sorrow’s Gates if it means your death.”

 

“They’re killable without it killing me,” Kaoru says, tickled pink by Rei’s concern, probably an amount that’s only justified by the extraneous substances in his system. “Very few of these swords were ever made, so I’m not surprised they can kill a drude. Eichi hates drudes, so it makes sense that the order he established can kill them. I doubt most paladins even know why their swords are made the way they are.”

 

Rei pauses, plucks the pipe from Kaoru’s hand, and savors a long inhale of it for himself. “Let’s back up,” he sweetly says. “The order Eichi established?”

 

“Yeah. He was the first paladin.” Kaoru’s expression darkens. “Which you shouldn’t let affect your opinion of the rest of the paladins. Hate them on their own merits.”

 

“I do. Don’t worry. What you just said did not help, however, although it does clarify a number of things I’ve always found unusual about him.” Rei rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as the smoke slowly winds its way around. “That’s how he could cast that kind of spell.”

 

“He’s always known about everything I can do before I do it,” Kaoru says wearily. “Found that weird, for sure. But yeah. So, this is a little tricky to follow, but I’m going to do my best. When Eichi was a seraphim—that’s what we think he was, by the way, the seraphim who showed the paladins the way to tap their inner powers—he laid down the secret order of the Svalde. They kept his _original_ commandments. In fact, most of their doctrine was from Eichi essentially saying he’d had bad premonitions that he’d someday turn into the thing they’d have to defeat, and begging them to stop him when it came to that time. Was that coherent? I need more food or more flowers.”

 

Slowly, Rei passes the pipe back over, his expression not changing. “So when we talked about how he was quite an odd archdemon…we weren’t wrong. He is—was—a seraphim. Then a paladin. _Then_ an archdemon. Oh, that certainly does explain why our magic hates each other so much.” He exhales, and pulls over a part of a fur blanket and stuffs it onto his face. “I need to scream.”

 

“Imagine how we felt reading that. Hell, imagine how Natsume felt when he found out Tsumugi was a drude.”

 

Rei holds up one pale hand. “Wait. Repeat that one.”

 

“Tsumugi. The one Natsume was pretending to be married to. He’s the one that ate Eichi’s soul.”

 

“Oh, very good. Hand me the wine, that’s entirely my miss and my fault.”

 

Kaoru takes a long draft of the pipe, then hands over the wine. His head is starting to feel delightfully empty, as if none of the horrible information he’s learned can quite hurt him. That’s nice. “I didn’t sense it either, and I let him live in my house. Hell, Eichi didn’t sense it, and he’s the one that got eaten.”

 

“Fuck Eichi,” Rei bluntly says, taking a far too large swig of wine. “ _I’m_ the man that dragged Natsume into that mess. I hate this more than I can currently express.”

 

“Oh. Same. Have more opium, it helps that go away.”

 

“Kiss the smoke into my mouth. Unless that’s unpleasant for you, then please don’t,” Rei sighs, hugging the bottle to his chest. “To recap—Eichi was a seraphim, then a paladin, which makes incredible sense, considering all of the things he’s capable of. Perhaps most notably, how easily he can close Sorrow’s Gates…ah, and he was eaten by a drude. Tsumugi was a drude. Which explains why he couldn’t feel pain and always seemed like an unfeeling shell. I’m following along. Anything else? Oh, it _does_ make sense that Eichi was able to kill him, if he was a paladin…I hate this.”

 

“With his own sword,” Kaoru reminds him. “Which he apparently transformed into that dagger. Mm, let me try.” He breathes the smoke in, then leans in close, sealing his mouth over Rei’s and exhaling slowly. “Not unpleasant,” he murmurs after, eyes lidded from the cloying smoke. “The interesting question is…what this Nagisa guy is about.”

 

Rei shuts his eyes, holding the smoke within his mouth for a moment before exhaling it as a slow, fragrant stream. “It’s sexy when you do that,” he mutters, automatically snuggling closer and nosing at Kaoru’s hair. “I know nothing about Nagisa. Enlighten me.”

 

“The only mentions of him we saw in the text were positive,” Kaoru begins, as neutrally as he can manage. The opium helps. The disconnection it brings is delicious, truly intoxicating. _That’s what Rei’s scent always reminds me of,_ he thinks dreamily. _Opium, and starry nights._ “People used to pray to him for protection from war and bandits. And apparently, he would often come.”

 

“They didn’t fear him as an archdemon? Interesting.” Rei tips a bit more Shadewine into his mouth, then promptly leans over to share it into Kaoru’s with a slip of his tongue. “Mm. You mentioned there would be hope to turn him.”

 

Kaoru drinks, savoring the silky flavors, letting his eyes flutter. “Mm. Maybe. It’s conjecture, though. Basically, every case that we know of that a drude has turned someone, it’s taken ten years. But Eichi was only banished eight years ago, so…” He shrugs a shoulder. “Makes sense that the drude working on Nagisa hasn’t had the full ten. That makes a lot of assumptions, though—time might work differently there, they might have already been together before Eichi was banished, the ten year thing might just be a coincidence…”

 

“As you know, I love attempting to reason with the unreasonable, so of course it’s like this,” Rei sighs, fluttering a hand before letting it flop back down upon Kaoru’s hip. “Now, to the part I’m most confused about. Wataru is working with Eichi? I suspected as much, but between the promise he gave me and…Kaoru, I cannot express enough that he is _gone_.”

 

“Natsume saw it.” Kaoru’s tone is flat. “Believe me, I’d be…so, so happy to be wrong. He didn’t See anything good.”

 

The good humor disappears from Rei’s face immediately. “What did he See? Did he tell you exactly?”

 

“…Nothing I want to repeat,” Kaoru says quietly, looking away. “He Sees Wataru and Eichi attacking him. Viciously.”

 

Rei’s fingers tighten against Kaoru’s hip. “Did he See anything else about the North? I’m asking you, not him, because he’s always a bit hesitant to be forthcoming about darker visions, ever since the _last_ time we had to fight Eichi.”

 

“…Just a couple of things. He hasn’t been seeing much, since we were at the Svalde he’s been, he calls it backlogged, catching up. A sword laid across someone’s lap, blood on the snow, your pact with Eichi being gone, the drude Ibara holding a child on a glacier.”

 

Rei’s mouth purses, and he looks away for a moment, contemplating. “What he needs is a day to just be in a trance and put it all together. I’ll tell him as much, if he wakes up still disjointed. Sometimes, visions like this need to be coached.” He glances back to Kaoru. “The pact being gone is a problem that I’m aware of. I was hoping it would buy me a bit more time.”

 

“If what you’re worried about is what I think you’re worried about,” Kaoru says after a moment, stroking a finger up the back of Rei’s hand, “you shouldn’t. He can’t go South without ceding this territory to us, and he’ll never find a better battlefield to face us. And…Shu is a lot smarter than him. He’ll be fine.”

 

Rei’s fingers curl slowly. “My logical brain tells me you’re right,” he finally says after a moment’s pause. “But there’s an obnoxious part of my mind that won’t let it go. Perhaps it’s that shitty, demon instinct to declare ‘that’s mine!’ and not allow Shu to be the capable, brilliant wizard that he is who can certainly protect himself. Whatever it is, it’s there, and I’m concerned.” He exhales a long breath before plucking the pipe away from Kaoru again. “I was _hoping_ for extra time because the king’s heir hasn’t been born yet.”

 

“Yet?” Kaoru sits up. “It’s alive? The child? Izumi?” Relief washes over him, more heady than the Shadewine. “I was really worried. He’s all right? He’s in the Shadowlands, I know, but have you heard anything?”

 

“ _Because_ he’s in the Shadowlands, I hear everything.” Rei leans back, chin in hand, eyes dimly glowing from the influence of opium and Shadewine. “They’re all alive. Kanata’s skills really are unmatched in that regard.”

 

Kaoru flops down bonelessly. “If time passes faster in the Shadowland than here…mm, how isn’t it born. yet? Izumi was big as a house.”

 

“Because he was in the Shadowlands for a good portion of the pregnancy already…then came back here…then went back. There has to be a balance, or time would really wreck havoc on him. Or, the child was actually injured in this attack, and needed extra time to heal.” Rei shrugs a shoulder. “Either way, it would be helpful if it was born already.”

 

“What if…what if you killed Eichi before the child was born?” Kaoru asks, brows furrowed. “Would that mean the king would just be fine? Or would he just wait until the child was born, then fall over?”

 

“The latter. Or something like it. He would have absolutely nothing shielding him from his bonded being—well, not dead probably, but at least destroyed. I doubt Eichi would perform magic to save him at this point, either, considering he has no idea where Leo is.”

 

“The king really is done with him, then?” Kaoru aks. “It’s…it’s sad. I know Leo really loved him. And it’s worse, thinking that Eichi used to be a good person, and has been just…eaten. Emptied.”

 

“We had a conversation, in the Hinterlands.” Rei shrugs a shoulder, breathing in opium smoke. “He tried to tell me I should hand the Academy to Eichi again. I have to admit, I might have laughed in his face a bit.”

 

“You’re not nice enough to him. We’ve seen far worse kings, who never listened to us or even pretended to care what the people want.”

 

Rei’s eyes narrow. “I’m not nice enough to him? Kaoru. I have gone _out of my way_ to help him, not as a fellow king, but as a friend. I have spent countless hours attempting to save him from the pain of a broken bond, and I went against my own personal convictions to help him, at that. I have tried to be understanding about Eichi, because it isn’t Leo’s fault he’s bonded to that creature. With all that in mind, with all that Eichi has done, I think I was allowed to finally be at my wit’s end and laugh at the mere suggestion that I’d hand the Academy back to a monster.”

 

“Oh? Because you’ve never been on Eichi’s side?” Kaoru mildly rebukes. “Because you’ve never changed your mind about someone?”

 

“Are we going to have this argument? What matters is that I’m not on his side now, and I refuse to be, no matter how the king looks at me with puppy dog eyes. That’s not even on the table, and it won’t be, because the king quickly realized, upon hearing that Eichi tried to murder his husband, that Eichi does not give a shit.”

 

“Well, good, then. Then he’s not completely useless.” Kaoru blinks at Rei, and his vision swims slightly. For whatever reason, that makes him giggle. “You’re blurry.”

 

“I might have forgotten to mention the opium is from the Shadowlands fields.” Rei sighs, watching Kaoru through lidded eyes. “You’re making me hungry. Want to try testing it again?”

 

“Just do things to me, it doesn’t make me sick or anything,” Kaoru murmurs, nuzzling against Rei’s neck. “Even if it doesn’t do anything for me, you can eat.”

 

“Does it just feel like…nothing, though?” Rei asks, not quite able to resist putting his hands on Kaoru’s waist as he rolls him into the furs, pressing him down as he nuzzles into Kaoru’s neck, then mouths over it. “You should really consider a block, just a small one,” he murmurs. “Enough to dampen it. Then I can fuck you and you don’t have to worry about stressing the little cat.”

 

“Can I do it?” Kaoru asks softly, hand coming up to stroke Rei’s hair, almost by instinct. “I don’t want to hurt his feelings, or make him think that he’s not enough for me. He was…so upset, he thought I’d be so angry…”

 

“…Maybe. I don’t know how aware you are of your bond…though you two were absolutely conversing through it, so that’s charming, and surprisingly skilled of you, my pretty paladin,” Rei teases, teeth gently catching against Kaoru’s earlobe.

 

“He’s better at explaining magic than you are,” Kaoru teases, snuggling back into the furs, enjoying the sensation of their softness against his skin. Almost without meaning to, he pokes at the bond, warmth and affection flowing out of him.

 

A sleepy, muddled flutter pokes back.

 

“Oh, is he? Good. Did he ever tell you what his main job in the Academy was for awhile?” Rei runs a fingertip down the arc of Kaoru’s throat, as if contemplating where to bite.

 

“Mm, no, he didn’t talk about the Academy much.” Kaoru looks up dazedly at the ceiling, finding it mildly fascinating. It’s entirely odd, to be under Rei’s body, but feel nothing at all. “Whose house is this? They’ve done a good job on the woodwork.”

 

“His job was to reverse engineer all of the spellwork I cast, so that others could understand and replicate it. Because, apparently, I am the worst at explaining. Your blood isn’t even rising at _all_ ,” Rei complains, sitting back with a pout. “If I bite, it’ll hurt you.”

 

Kaoru grimaces. “Sorry. Wait until Natsume wake up, he’s exhausted. Then maybe we can both figure out how to feed you.”

 

“I don’t even need it, I just want it,” Rei sulks, flopping over onto his back. “Because you smell good and you’re Kaoru.”

 

“Stop sulking. I’m saying I’ll give you what you want, it’s not—listen, I was a good citizen when _you_ bonded! And you couldn’t even touch me, because you _only_ love me in a sex way.”

 

“You say that like it’s an insult. I loved sex with you more than anyone else in the world!”

 

Whoops, he’s definitely imbibed too many substances when Rei saying that makes Kaoru’s lip wobble and his eyes fill. “Fuck you,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Everything’s bad and I can’t even make love to you.”

 

“Ahh…” Being a very scary Demon King doesn’t make him immune to Kaoru crying, apparently, and so Rei immediately cuddles close again, his arms winding around him. “Don’t cry, don’t cry. I’m trying to be good, but I know I’m still asking a lot and I’m sorry,” he murmurs, tucking Kaoru’s head underneath his chin. “I can’t see your bond myself or I’d try to dampen it a little, just so we could relax together.”

 

“No, it’s just—I’m not mad at you,” Kaoru admits, stuffing his face into Rei’s chest. “I’m being a baby because I’m high and I miss you and we didn’t even get a single good, easy night for me to lie with you and appreciate you after you had my baby?”

 

“You’re telling me,” Rei murmurs, stroking his fingers through Kaoru’s hair, long nails scraping gently along his scalp. “But you’re not being a baby. You’re allowed to be upset and stressed. Let me pet you for awhile. Bonds are really something, aren’t they.”

 

“If you ever encounter one of the gods,” Karou says wetly, letting himself be petted, “wish them all away from the world, would you? They’re just…like, fuck off, I would have liked Natsume no matter what, you don’t have to put me on a leash about it.”

 

“Ahh…that’s a relatable statement, for sure…” Rei reaches for their shared pipe, taking another, long drag from it, and then tipping Kaoru’s chin up to seal their lips together, releasing the smoke into his mouth. “I imagine he’s feeling the same way,” he quietly says as he leans back. “Especially with this mess about Wataru. At least I can still be here to pet you.”

 

“…I want to say something uncharitable, but I won’t.” Kaoru butts his head against Rei’s shoulder, exhaling smoke from his nose. “It’s just hard to think that anyone in the world could have what we had.”

 

“You can say it. Who am I going to tell?” Rei’s eyes lid, his fingers tangling and toying with Kaoru’s hair. “Admittedly, I also think no one else has what we had. Have,” he corrects after a brief pause. “Because we’re us.”

 

There’s a longer pause, and finally, Kaoru pulls away, looking up into Rei’s eyes. “But you asked Shu to be your Demon Queen,” he says softly. “We don’t…really have anywhere to go from there.”

 

Rei stares back at him, his head cocking slightly. “…Are you telling me,” he slowly says, “that you would’ve said yes, had I asked you?”

 

“I’m telling you,” Kaoru says, as patiently as he can, trying not to let his feelings get hurt stupidly, “that there’s not much I can…do…if you take the Shadowlands as your own, with a mate by your side.” He shrugs, a little helpless. “I have to be a paladin to kill this drude. A true one, heart and mind. I mean, obviously, I’m planning on starting tomorrow, that’s who I am as a person, but…you _didn’t_ ask me. And I’m your husband. Ah, my reasons are all jumbled up, I’m high and drunk and lonely.”

 

“Kaoru. I didn’t ask you, because I knew it would hurt you. You’ve told me countless times that even a wizard’s tower covered in my magic would undo you. The Shadowlands would be that, twenty times worse.” Rei exhales. “Besides—I’ve already taken the Shadowlands as my own. Look at me.”

 

“I’m trying not to,” Kaoru whispers, face turned away. “It means I’ve lost you.”

 

“Or,” Rei swiftly counters, grabbing Kaoru’s face in both of his hands, forcing him to look back, “it means we can try this again. Properly. With me, as the Demon King, and you a paladin—a paladin that actually _gives a shit_. A proper pact between the Shadowlands and the paladins would be the best thing for this realm.”

 

“What kind of pact?” Kaoru asks. His face has the kind of lassitude that begs, _Don’t let me turn away again, make me believe,_ that he’s turned on Rei so many times he can’t count them all.

 

“The kind that keeps this world safe. You _know_ the reason I didn’t take the Shadowlands back for so long was because demons hate my policies. I have no desire to have this world overrun by hungry demons, Kaoru—but I _need_ help in that. Who else but the paladins?” Rei rubs a thumb against Kaoru’s cheek gently. “We’re high and drunk and this is the worst time to talk about this, but I need you to know I’m asking for your help _as a paladin._ And I’ve been thinking about that for awhile, so please understand that I’ve never, ever wanted to lose you.”

 

That bring the tears back, and Kaoru closes his eyes, letting them sting. “I want to reform the paladins,” he whispers, saying aloud an ambition he hasn’t dared to voice yet. “I don’t have the authority, and I don’t speak for them, but…someone has to. We can’t continue like this.”

 

“If you slay a drude and help save the realm, you’ll have enough authority to do anything,” Rei lowly says. “And I’ll back you. And the Academy will back you. The crown will back you, if we play our cards right. I’ve already made myself clear to your kin—I won’t accept any other paladin intervention.”

 

“Being the Demon King’s favorite will only get me so far with the paladins,” Kaoru says tiredly, “but…yeah. The crown will back me if we keep the king alive. Like I said, he’s a good kid. The worst part is, my family will probably be thrilled, they’ve been wanting a family hero to push for more power and influence for centuries. Heh, but they wouldn’t expect me to do it like this.”

 

“Being my favorite will get you far enough to get their attention, when they realize being my favorite means you have access to the Shadowlands for the innumerable artifacts that paladins happen to use…oh, and access to passageways within the Hinterlands that might be closed off right now as well,” Rei idly says, stroking Kaoru’s cheek. “All the better for it to be like this. It’ll be done your way.”

 

Kaoru almost objects.

 

He almost says something about what being a paladin really means, about how he can’t go to bat for the paladins and for the demons.

 

But surely, if he’s remaking the paladins in his own image…

 

“I just want them to be what they should be,” he says softly. “Helping anyone who’s being hurt. Non-politically fighting for justice. Patrolling the borders, but letting in the ones that deserve safe haven. But Rei…I can’t let thralls exist.”

 

“Fine. Then I’ll remove the one I still have, as a gesture of good will—assuming all goes well in this fight, and we come out of it the way we want to.”

 

Tension suddenly eases out of Kaoru’s neck, and he slumps forward onto Rei, head thunking into his shoulder with a low groan. “Gods…you don’t know how happy that makes me to hear. I love you.”

 

“I love you, too,” Rei says with a little laugh, petting a hand down Kaoru’s back. “Kaoru—am I really so unreasonable to you? We had a lover’s spat and I removed a far more crucial thrall immediately. And I’d do it again, even if it meant the difference between the end of the world or not, if it pleased you.”

 

“But you made them in the first place,” Kaoru points out. “Knowing how I feel. So you’re really just saying that you’ll do things I hate, but only if I don’t find out about it.”

 

“I’m not a saint. We’ve both done things along those lines, Kaoru.”

 

“Ah…well, sure. Yeah. Fair enough.”

 

“One thing to consider, though,” Rei says, tipping Kaoru’s chin up again with a finger. “You’re bonded to a wizard now. That’s a very rare thing in paladins, unless I’m mistaken? Mmm…and you’ll be bonded to the Emperor, at that.”

 

“You’re giving Natsume the Academy?” Kaoru beams. “Good choice. He’s the smartest wizard I’ve ever met, at explaining magic to humans.” He quiets, and reaches out, gripping Rei’s hand. “I thought me being a paladin was keeping us from forming a bond. If it wasn’t me, what the hell was it?”

 

“Of course I’m giving him the Academy. Who else? He’s perfect. Thank you for _immediately_ agreeing that my choice is perfect, by the way.” Rei’s fingers curl, squeezing Kaoru’s hand back. “Bonds are what they are. Plenty of wizards have studied them and tried to make sense of them. They’ll talk all day about inherent compatibility and how certain wizards will bond with certain others…but at the end of the day, it’s just…” He flutters his other hand. “Whatever. As inconvenient as that may be.”

 

“Natsume explained it better.”

 

“Well, good for him and good for you. A match made in…whatever paladins believe in.”

 

“You’re just lucky I start this true paladin thing tomorrow, or I’d really give you a sermon.”

 

“If you’re going to swing that big sword of yours around, I’ll accept that as a sermon.”

 

“I’m _definitely_ going to swing her around. Am I about to turn you into a true believer?”

 

“Stooop it. It’s hot when you do that. I want to make out with you and then sit you on my cock for a few hours.”

 

Kaoru pauses the typical length, but no heat rises in his belly, and he groans. “Man, that was my favorite thing for you to say you were going to do.”

 

“Damn it. Seriously?” Rei grouses, raking a hand back through his hair. “That was my favorite, too. This cannot continue.”

 

“Pet my head, I’m cute and sad.”

 

Obediently, Rei pets Kaoru’s head. “Poor thing,” he laments. “This is truly the worst. At least we’re able to cuddle. I couldn’t even pet my own dog successfully after my bond first reared its head…”

 

“I’m a wolf!” comes the snarl from somewhere outside of the window.

 

“Yes, yes, whatever.”

 

“Go away, puppy!” Kaoru calls, snuggling into Rei’s side. “How long have you been eavesdropping?”

 

Koga’s low growl speaks volumes. “The whole time,” Rei supplies, wrapping his limbs about Kaoru and nuzzling into his hair. “He’s on guard duty. Such a hard worker, that one. It means _you_ can relax and sleep—hopefully, you will, now that you’re full of Shadewine.”

 

“And other things. Not as many other things as I could be full of, but…” Kaoru shrugs a drowsy shoulder, the mere suggestion enough to make him droop. “Cuddle me until I fall asleep. Then we can go remake the world.”

 

“Of course, love,” Rei murmurs, pressing his lips to Kaoru’s temple as he pulls him close, wrapping him in his Nightcloak with the next sweep of his arm. “Let’s make this rest of yours a good one.”

 


	40. Chapter 40

 

In the little house, curled up against Kanata, it’s warm, comfortable, and safe.

 

And Natsume still can’t sleep.

 

Rei and Kaoru’s murmuring is just faint enough that he can’t hear it beyond the closed door, and after awhile, there’s a low thrum of magic that makes it clear Rei doesn’t _want_ to be heard. So Natsume tries to sleep, dozing in and out, tossing and turning in a way that he can’t believe doesn’t make Kanata kick him out of bed.

 

But Kanata sleeps, dead to the world, obviously drained to the point past exhaustion, and Natsume can’t rest, when every time he closes his eyes, he Sees.

 

_Silvery blue hair, somehow stark against the snow._

 

_An outstretched hand, cold, so cold, when it should be warm…_

 

_Blood, blood everywhere, dripping down his arms from repeated castings, over and over—_

 

A frigid wind blows outside, and Natsume picks himself up and out of bed, wrapping himself back up into his clothing, his boots, and his Nightcloak, finding himself pathetically, selfishly wishing it was still the one Wataru had given him fifteen years ago.

 

The room has one tiny window, and the latch is rusted over. It takes only a moment of prying it open with his dagger before it pops open, and he pulls himself out of it, tumbling into the snow. The sudden chill goes straight to his bones, but he forgoes any castings until he moves further away from the house, shivering with every single step.

 

Maybe, if he can just go to the wizard outpost instead, away from Rei’s heavy influence—he can think more clearly, and put these visions to good use.

 

The snort and sigh of horses makes him jump, but it’s just the ones they had ridden in on, plus another pair: Rei’s sleek, long-legged black demon mare, and another, huge and almost pure white, built huge and broad like the Northern beasts Izumi used to ride, but with a finer head and neck. Natsume steps outside of Rei’s magical barriers to no ill effect, and pauses by the horses, reaching out to absently touch the pink nose of the white one. “Sorry, no treats here,” he murmurs when he’s lipped at, his fingers curling. “Though an oat cake wouldn’t be so bad right now, huh.”

 

A bird chatters loudly, suddenly, then goes silent. A moment later, soft footsteps sound, crunching through the snow. Silvery-blue hair spills down the tall man’s back, and an ice-cold hand extends, directly towards Natsume. “I haven’t brought any oatcakes, I’m afraid,” Wataru says, his eyes grey and distant. “I’ve been looking for you, Kitten.”

 

Natsume freezes, his head snapping up to stare at Wataru, his eyes wide. “…Wataru,” he whispers, turning towards him, helpless to do anything but. “Lord Rei said…I _Saw_ that you were gone…”

 

He doesn’t wait for an explanation. The pent-up grief, every single bottled up tear—it all immediately breaks through the dam holding it in place, and Natsume dissolves with a hiccup, unwilling to reconcile what he’s _Seen_ with who is so clearly in front of him. “I’m s-sorry,” he hiccups again, picking up his skirts with one hand, the other grabbing for that outstretched hand. “I didn’t—I _swear_ I didn’t look away from you! We were with the Svalde paladins, they cut off my magic, I didn’t know you’d be able to f-feel it—“

 

“I know. I know. I understand.”

 

Wataru holds him, his arms strong as ever, hair whispering around both of them in the wind. “It’s all right. As soon as you reappeared, I knew what had happened. Come with me.”

 

Wataru’s hand is freezing. All of him is, actually, but Natsume clings to his neck all the same, burying his face into Wataru’s shoulder with a trembling exhale. His face hurts, tears drying on it salty and cold. “Where?” he murmurs wetly, fisting his hands into Wataru’s hair. He _smells_ like Wataru. For all that Wataru has always tried to be warm for his sake, he still smells cold, like ice and the crunch of it underneath his boots. “I wanted…to go to the outpost. I can’t sleep, none of my dreams make sense…”

 

“You must come with me.” Those cold eyes flicker, almost changing color for a moment. Wataru’s cold hand tightens on Natsume’s. “I’m sorry. But you must come to the outpost.”

 

The way Wataru’s hand tightens around his is wrong. “Too tight,” Natsume mutters, tugging back on the hold instinctively. “Wataru—where…” He glances up, suddenly unsettled. “Where is Eichi?”

 

“He wants to see you.” Black talons tip Wataru’s fingers. “Don’t struggle. It will be worse.”

 

It feels like his heart plummets into his stomach before leaping back up to pound away. “No. I don’t want to see him. You _promised_ —“

 

“Good job, good job.” It’s more sarcastic than Natsume remembers, that familiar voice, but the unsettled giggle that follows rings a hollow bell. “Make it obvious, will you? You’re supposed to wait. That’s the _point_.”

 

“What?” There’s a beat, then Wataru nods slowly. “Ah. So he’ll come with me without resisting. You should have made that obvious.”

 

“I did. You just didn’t follow along.”

 

Natsume’s head jerks around, and Eichi comes into view, somehow in sharp contrast to the snow even when clad in white. His heavy cloak, trimmed in silver, whips with the wind, and his eyes are too-bright, too blue—

 

“Whatever. Hand him to me. Don’t worry, he’s all yours, I only have one thing I need from him, just like I said.”

 

Natsume wrenches his hand away, and that draws blood from the scraping of Wataru’s talons dragging over his palm. Flinging his hand out creates a pattern of blood on the snow, but he’s not fast enough, the snow melting and sinking down beneath the heat of his own blood, deforming the circle before the spell fully casts—

 

And Eichi is there, huge and tall and obviously awash with power, to the point it glitters around him almost in a white halo as he catches Natsume by the hair. “Do us all a favor,” he breathes. “And stop that.”

 

Eichi calmly cracks Natsume’s head against his fist, then tosses him down into the snow, stepping over his unconscious body and further deforming the still partially glowing magical circle left behind. “And _you_ ,” he snaps to Wataru, jabbing a finger in his direction, “are useless. How are you so stupid? You could’ve ruined _everything_. You’re just lucky wizards are delicate _and_ stupid.”

 

“He seems so sad,” Nagisa says, puzzlement creasing Wataru’s expression as he stares down at Natsume’s limp form. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell him about our plan when he wakes up. At least he’ll know his power isn’t going to be used in vain.”

 

“You’ll do no such thing,” Eichi flatly says, hoisting Natsume up as if he weighs absolutely nothing and tosses him over his shoulder. “If you do, then stay in that form. The whore will be much more willing to do what you say then.”

 

Nagisa sighs, and follows Eichi back to the outpost, and beyond, to their little command center. “As you say, Progenitor. He smells like the sky.”

 

“As dragons do. I told you, you’re welcome to have a taste, but it’ll only burn your tongue.”

 

Past the first mountain pass lies their ‘stronghold’, the remains of the old Sena estate. A good half of it has been long-since destroyed, but remains is in relatively good standing. The barriers about the place ripple as both Eichi and Nagisa step through, and he kicks the front door open, tossing Natsume onto the floor at Jun’s feet. “Deal with that.”

 

The wizard in question shoots Eichi a dark look through the mussed fall of dark blue bangs. “I can’t bind a Nightcloak effectively.”

 

Eichi stares at him.

 

Jun’s jaw twitches. “I can’t bind a Nightcloak effectively…Progenitor.”

 

“Then have your Master help you, until I can get around to finishing the job. Or—where’s Ibara?” Eichi crossly asks, brushing snow off of his cloak. “Nagisa, you should train that gross creature better. Say his name, he appears, that sort of thing.”

 

Nagisa stares at him blankly for a long moment, then starts. “Oh. You mean me. My name is Wataru.”

 

“HIYORI! Come _deal with your mate.”_

 

There’s a squeak from upstairs in the tower, then a clambering of feet, and a moment later, Hiyori appears, tousled from sleep. “Nagisa, take that face off,” he urges, and holds out both his hands. “Come to me, my lord.”

 

Nagisa takes a hesitant, blank-eyed step forward. “I should ask Ibara.”

 

Hiyori shoots Eichi a look that could curdle milk. “Kill that thing,” he hisses. “You promised.”

 

“I did, and I will,” Eichi says, unconcerned as he collapses back into a rather weathered old chair, feeling it creak underneath his weight. “Your wizard seems unconvinced that he can keep our prophet under lock and key. Show him how it’s done.”

 

Hiyori strokes a hand over Jun’s face, right down the front. “Jun, don’t be silly, you know how to do this. You brought a couple hands, right? Don’t worry, I’ll do it this time, but make sure you’re paying attention for next time.”

 

He kneels next to Natsume, and lets his power spill out, lashing him at wrists and ankles and neck, binding his power hard. “That should be fine for now. Who wants to strip his powers away first?”

 

“I don’t think Wataru would do that,” Nagisa says slowly. “But I should ask Ibara.”

 

“No, no, Hiyori, we aren’t stripping them,” Eichi patiently says. “We’re making them our own. That’s how it works.”

 

Jun, a mix annoyed and resigned at being petted so _very_ incorrectly, rises from where he sits. “I’ll pass, if that’s fine with you, Highness,” he mutters.

 

“No one invited you, anyway,” Eichi idly says, untying his cloak.

 

“You called, Your Excellency?”

 

Striding in from the snow is none other than Ibara himself, looking cheerfully frostbitten. The door slams shut behind him, and Natsume marginally shifts where he lays with a quiet whimper. “Oh! That worked! Just like I knew it would, brilliant, brilliant.”

 

“Do stop claiming other’s ideas as your own,” Eichi drawls, fingers drumming against his cheek as he watches Ibara through slitted eyes.

 

Ibara scarcely pays him any mind, red hair fluttering behind him as he strides to Nagisa. “This _is_ quite a look for you, Your Excellency. I’m sure the Progenitor finds it dashing as well.”

 

There’s a palpable sense of relief in Nagisa as he takes in the sight of Ibara, his powerful shoulders relaxing slightly. “Ibara. Good, you’ve come. Look, I’ve become Wataru. Surely now it’s time to bless the village, before whoever destroyed it comes back.”

 

“You,” Eichi flatly cuts in. “That was you.”

 

“Ehh…no, we’re not going to do that,” Ibara dismisses with a wave of his hand. “Not tonight. First things first, you’ve caught a prophet.” He reaches up a pale hand, patting Nagisa’s cheek. “Don’t you remember how you like them? Useful bitches, aren’t they?”

 

“But I’m the one who creates destiny,” Nagisa says, utterly certain as he stands between Eichi and Ibara. “All the world is mine, to shape as I see fit. What need have I of prophecy?”

 

Hiyori shoots a glare at Eichi. _Fix this_ , it says, as clear as darkness.

 

“Prophecy,” Eichi interrupts, standing from where he sits, “is what gives you the power _to_ have the world as you see fit, Nagisa. Or did you forget that conversation we had already?”

 

He pushes Ibara back with a hand on his shoulder, and the drude merely rolls his eyes as he steps back. “If you want to stay in this world, you need to know the future it holds,” Eichi lowly says. “Do you _want_ to be sent back below?”

 

“No,” Nagisa says, quite reasonably, he thinks, and turns to go sit in the corner. He draws his sword, lays it across his lap, and closes his eyes, beginning to meditate.

 

“You get to deal with this later,” Hiyori growls to Eichi, watching his mate in distress. “Jun, you have grapes for me, right? I’m stressed.”

 

“Do you want me to throw them in your mouth, Highness?” Jun deadpans.

 

“What do you mean I have to ‘deal with this later’?” Eichi flatly hisses, grabbing Hiyori by the arm to jerk him close. “You can snap at me later when you’re actually being useful. You’re his bonded. Are you so incapable of rousing him from this stupor he’s under?”

 

Ibara trots after Nagisa, unconcerned about either of them, and drops down to his knees next to him, letting his fingertips slowly tiptoe their way over the blade of the sword in his lap. “Long ago,” he murmurs, “Prophets were useful to paladins as well. Wouldn’t it be nice? Being able to take this land back as a paladin from long ago?”

 

“A paladin wouldn’t steal those powers using such an unsavory method,” Nagisa says, troubled. “Not from everything you’ve told me about us. A paladin would want to protect this little red dragon child.”

 

“I’m being perfectly useful,” Hiyori hisses. “But you promised you’d kill that thing, and all it’s doing is feeding on him more! I want _my_ mate back, not this weird shell he’s become! Ugh! This is just— _you_ all over again!”

 

“Paladins took them as wives, and that’s how the kingdom was born,” Ibara patiently says. “Obviously, that isn’t wrong, or they wouldn’t’ve done it.”

 

Wordlessly, Eichi grabs Hiyori around the neck, slamming him back into the nearby wall. Jun sits up a bit straighter, his gaze fixed on the scene. “Say that again,” Eichi lowly warns, talons pricking into that soft skin. “And I’ll have a bite of you before I eat the prophet. I told you to be patient.”

 

Nagisa streaks across the room in a heartbeat, leaving Ibara behind, closing a gentle hand over Eichi’s and removing it, his hand just as strong as Eichi’s, his eyes more alert, alive than they have been since he’s surfaced. “Don’t touch him,” he says softly. “He’s mine, Progenitor.”

 

“Nagisa,” Hiyori whispers, his eyes wide and round.

 

Eichi’s gaze locks with Nagisa’s, not pulling away for a second even if he allows his hand to be moved. “There you are,” he says, pleased as he withdraws his hand, curling his talons back towards his own palm. “So you _do_ wake up with the right prodding. Then listen to me, while you’re still awake, and answer me this—do you still want the power to rule the world?”

 

“Yes,” Nagisa says immediately, in his own voice, the clouds behind his eyes temporarily parted. “It is mine by right. But I’ll take no prophet as my own. I have a mate, and I won’t dishonor him, no matter the sins you gleefully pile onto your own soul.” His voice is resonant, deep, and carrying in the snow-crusted tower.

 

Ibara’s giggling is obnoxious, and Eichi has half the mind to dropkick him out into the snow again. “Very well,” he says instead, suppressing an eye roll at the insinuation of _sin_. “Then he’s mine, and you can flutter off back to the Depths, because you can’t seem to remember why you’re here.”

 

“I’m here now,” Nagisa intones. “So I’ll stay. And you’ll pay your debts, and give me what I’m owed. Then, once the world is as I see fit, and only then, I may return.”

 

“I’ve paid my debts. I’ve returned your mate to you, safe and sound, better fed than he was when I borrowed him,” Eichi lowly says, swinging an arm towards Hiyori. “Ask him for yourself. I’ve _given_ you a prophet, the first true one in centuries, and you scorn that as well. _You_ owe _me_ —you’re the one still holding _my_ sword.”

 

“No,” Nagisa says evenly. “This is my sword. Thank you for returning it to me. And you forget how much I had to sacrifice to pull you out of the Depths in the first place. You scorn my sacrifice.”

 

“It’s _my sword._ Does it call to you?” Eichi presses, arms folded. “If it’s truly your sword, it would. Don’t talk to me about sacrifices; I’ve given up my own bonded to give you this _world_ , Nagisa. You’re being ungrateful.”

 

On the floor, Natsume stirs again, shifting onto his back with a quiet groan. Eichi’s gaze flicks down to him, then back to Nagisa, before he clearly decides to change course. “You can decide later what you’d like to do with the prophet. If you don’t want him, fine. I’ll lend him to you from time to time. For now, enough arguing—come here,” he says, briskly turning and striding to Natsume. “I’m not asking you to dishonor your mate. Feeding is never that.”

 

Mollified, Nagisa sheathes his sword, though he doesn’t hand it back over. “I don’t scorn your gift,” he allows, bowing his head. “Thank you, Progenitor. My thoughts are…clouded, of late.”

 

“I can’t imagine why,” Eichi deadpans, mostly to himself, even though his stare in Ibara’s direction doesn’t go unnoticed by the drude himself. Ignoring the creature’s smile, he rather casually kicks Natsume onto his stomach again, relishing the gasp of pain that leaves his lips before he’s even fully awake. “If you don’t want to feed right now, Nagisa, I understand. I have to admit, I’m a bit conditioned, courtesy of a past lover. You’ll find even your own mate appreciates being nibbled upon like that.”

 

“Thank you for the advice,” Nagisa says, apparently in all sincerity. “I’ll have to do further study on the subject when we have a moment. For now…I’ll defer to you, to proceed.”

 

The look Eichi briefly shoots to Hiyori is one that very clearly says _why is he so weird? is it the inbreeding?_ “Your deference is appreciated. Have you ever felt a prophet’s magic, Nagisa?” Eichi idly asks, dropping to his knees on the floor and catching the loop of Hiyori’s magic about one finger. He pulls, and that drags Natsume’s arms over his head, making him twist and wince as his eyes flutter half-open. “You probably don’t remember that you have. Hold his hands there, please.”

 

“…Wataru?” is the hoarse response that escapes as Natsume’s vision comes back into focus.

 

“Yes, isn’t it nice? He’s not dead because of you after all,” Eichi purrs, grabbing Natsume’s face in one clawed hand. “The more I look at you, the more irritated I get, actually. So many of my favorites are just _obsessed_ with you. Not my mate, thankfully. He’s the only one with taste.”

 

Reflexively, Natsume’s magic attempts to lash out in a groggy panic, which Hiyori’s magic does quick work of tamping down with a sharp after-bite that makes Natsume yelp and recoil. “Oh, less cute that you can even do that much.” Eichi releases him to swiftly unknot the ties of Natsume’s Nightcloak, and tosses it over to Hiyori. “Hold onto that. Don’t put it on, it’ll bite you.”

 

“It smells like your tailor,” Hiyori says with distaste, eyeing the cloak. “Don’t be afraid, I’ve got his magic locked down.”

 

Nagisa moves, kneeling at Natsume’s head, taking his wrists in his own large, cold hands. “Don’t worry,” he says, eyes clouding over again as he moves through something he finds innately distasteful, all traces of the powerful protector vanishing into mist. “This is for the world. You’ll see, Kitten.”

 

“Goodness, I wish he was _my_ tailor,” Eichi says with a laugh, tying his hair back before carelessly prying Natsume’s thighs apart, unfazed by his attempts to kick. “By the end of this, he will be.”

 

“You aren’t Wataru,” Natsume whispers, his own eyes glazed over from a mix of his magic being sealed and the running rampant visions behind them as he stares up at Nagisa. “You…can’t be—what did he—“

 

“Shh, that’s enough, no one cares,” Eichi murmurs, grabbing Natsume by the throat to abruptly cut him off and hold him down.

 

“I’m going for a walk,” Jun abruptly says, shouldering his own cloak and briskly moving to the door, not quite able to tune out the whimpers and sobs that follow. “Unless you need me here, Highness.”

 

For a moment, Hiyori looks between Jun and Nagisa, his pet wizard and his mate, one acting disgusted, the other in a daze. Then he swallows hard, grabs the Nightcloak, and follows after Jun, letting the door shut behind him. “I hate it when he gets like this,” he confides, keeping stride with the wizard.

 

“Which one?” Jun darkly asks, exhaling a hot, too-fast breath into the cold mountain air. It’s blunter than he would usually let himself be, but extenuating circumstances demand that. “They’re both in rare form tonight, Highness.”

 

“…Yeah,” Hiyori says quietly, and shoves the Nightcloak into Jun’s hands. “I don’t want to touch that. Guilt is a bad emotion, it’s not helpful at all!”

 

“ _You’re_ feeling guilty? I—hey! I don’t want to carry it!” Jun protests, jumping back as if he literally will get bitten, just like Eichi said, and letting the cloak fall into the snow instead. “Don’t you know anything about wizard’s cloaks, Highness?!”

 

“No!” Hiyori glares at the cloak, and picks it up again, as if it’s made of mud. “That would be like Eichi, giving me something that would bite!”

 

“You can carry it, just don’t _wear_ it—unless you’re another wizard, then you never should, unless the owner himself is offering it,” Jun exasperatedly says, much like he’s talking to a small child. “And even then…Nightcloaks are notoriously sensitive. That thing? Made by Shu? Fuck no. I’m not touching it.”

 

“Ugh.” Hiyori kicks a puff of snow. “I hate this. They’re so gross. I feel bad for that kid, and it’s _weird_ that I feel bad. Have I been here too long? I want my mate back the way he was. Do it for me,” he says petulantly, not expecting a real answer.

 

An irritatingly stressful _urge_ to do just that makes Jun shift uncomfortably. “In the event you’ve forgotten, Highness, you have me thralled? So maybe don’t suggest things like that, because then I am _literally compelled_ to do something about it. When I can’t,” Jun flatly adds. “I have no solutions. I am vaguely impressed that you feel bad for a human, so congrats, I guess.”

 

“Well, it’s just making me sad, so it sucks,” Hiyori mutters. “Sorry about the thrall. But me being sad is inconvenient for me, too, you know!”

 

“Yeah…I’m sure it is.” Jun shivers, drawing his own cloak tighter about himself as he stops in a shallower snowdrift, staring out over the endlessly white hills, empty and dark save for where the moon touches. “Did Eichi really say he was going to get rid of the drude?”

 

“He promised,” Hiyori says, but his tone is a little doubtful. “But he’s a liar. He swore, and we made a deal and everything, and I let him feed…I just wish I could trust him like I used to. I want that thing eviscerated for what it’s done.”

 

“I’d believe him more, if I hadn’t just seen that.” Jun waves a hand back towards their stronghold. “That’s just…fucking nonsense. He’s pissed, that’s the only reason for it. I do know if you want him to do anything about the drude for real…you’ve _got_ to convince His Excellency to give that sword up. He’s not a paladin, for gods’ sake. Make him remember Eichi literally traded him that thing for you.”

 

“I can’t look at him when he’s like this,” Hiyori mutters. “It makes me sick. Did you see him, when Eichi was grabbing me? And he was _Nagisa_ again? He’s not gone, I knew it.”

 

“I thought they were going to fight, right then and there,” Jun confesses. “But…well, you wanted His Excellency back for real, that’s the suggestion I have for you.” Offering up that much at least makes some of the uncomfortable pressure from Hiyori’s request go away, though not entirely. “Just so you’re aware, I really hate taking orders from both of them right now.”

 

“Eichi’s first thought was to send you to get the prophet,” Hiyori admits. “But then he got all stupidly happy at the idea that he could trick him like this. I don’t like it, what if it changes Nagisa? He’s so, uh, malleable.”

 

“This would be better than some of the ways he’s been lately…” Jun mutters, glancing away. “Though that’s not saying much. Seriously. If they want me to join in on this one, I’m going to refuse. They can punish me, whatever, but I just won’t. You’ll have to do the ordering. Sorry, Your Highness.”

 

“I won’t. Not unless he forces me.” Hiyori grimaces. “Sorry, Jun. I know you don’t want to be thralled to me, but I at least won’t make you do that unless he makes me.”

 

“His Excellency’s mother was a prophet. You’d think he’d…” Jun trails off, shaking his head. “Whatever. Nothing I can do about it. If Eichi hadn’t declared war officially before now…now he has. Try not to be too stupid over the next few days, Highness.”

 

“But that’s why I have you! You’ll keep me from becoming really stupid, right, Jun?”

 

“I can give you advice, but I haven’t been in the Academy for awhile,” Jun protests, turning back to look at Hiyori. “And I’m just a Nooncloak, and not even a particularly odd one. A Nightcloak can—and will—eat me for breakfast.”

 

Hiyori turns, and takes Jun’s face in his hands, squishing his cheeks together. “I like you better than all the Nightcloaks, though. So you’re better than them.”

 

“Thanks,” Jun dryly manages, even though that praise makes him shiver in spite of himself, his head drooping into Hiyori’s touch. “This is all so dangerous and stupid, though…His Excellency should’ve just negotiated with the Demon King from the start, that would’ve been so much smarter…”

 

“All of his plans are bad,” Hiyori says sadly. “He’s…he’s not a good planner, is the problem. No, the real problem is that he won’t accept any plan that has any steps he doesn’t like. Tell me I’m right.”

 

“You’re right,” is the automatic response from Jun’s tongue. “Both of them are like that. With or without the drude. Highness, you need to be more insistent that His Excellency Nagisa pay attention to _you_.”

 

The door to the estate swings open, then shut again, the sound nearly lost in the slowly, but constantly blowing wind. Eichi strides out, bundled in his cloak once more, a fine sheen of sweat making his skin almost glow in the moonlight. “Let’s have a conversation,” he says cheerfully as he strides over to them. “Now that the drude has annoyed me for the last time.”

 

“So kill him,” Hiyori says immediately, letting go of Jun. It doesn’t do to let Eichi know when you treasure something. “Now that the prophet’s magic is yours, you’ve got all you need, right?”

 

“No, I _need_ my sword.” Eichi folds his arms, his eyebrows raising. “You’re going to help with that. Convince Nagisa to hand it over to me.”

 

“Stop adding things I have to do!” Hiyori’s eyes blaze, and he puts his hands on his hips, standing up tall. “I kept my end of the bargain, and so did he. He did what you asked, and you repaid. So now, you do what _I_ want, and I’ll get him to hand over the sword. But you have to kill the drude first.”

 

“Listen to me,” Eichi patiently says, taking a step forward and grabbing Hiyori’s chin to yank him closer as he looms over him. “And listen to me carefully, Princess of the Dark. I will flay that drude’s flesh from his bones, and he will die. But to do that, I need my sword. So you’ll get it for me, and I’ll use it, and the drude will die, just as I promised. But I _need it_ to kill him. If you do that for me, I’ll even kneel at your feet. That is how much I dislike that shitty little thing.”

 

Hiyori squirms, shoving at Eichi’s hand, then goes suddenly still. “Wait,” he says slowly. “Wait. I had a smart idea.”

 

“Don’t let it hurt you, Highness,” Jun deadpans.

 

“Shut up. Go on, Hiyori,” Eichi says, dropping his hand. “Let’s hear it.”

 

“Killing a drude is hard and dangerous, right?” Hiyori shrugs a shoulder, and looks pointedly over at the crumbling remains of Sena. “Let them do it. All we have to do is sabotage him a little, and they’ll be happy to do our dirty work for us.”

 

Eichi’s eyes narrow, his arms folding across his chest. “We need a paladin to do it,” he finally says. “That’s the only way. Sabotaging Ibara isn’t exactly difficult, though, I will agree to that. He wanted to know what a dragon tasted like.”

 

Jun makes a disgusted noise, and Eichi shoots him a look. “You really need an attitude adjustment. Were your thralls always so weak, Hiyori?”

 

“He hates drudes because I hate drudes,” Hiyori says evenly, stepping between Eichi and Jun. “So? Let’s see your new fancy magic. What’s going to happen next?”

 

“That’s not how prophecy works, love,” Eichi too-sweetly says, giving Hiyori’s cheek a pat. “Back to your idea. I don’t hate it. I _might_ have access to a paladin, if I don’t want to waste my time getting my sword back at the moment.”

 

“I have to point out, it would be really easy to get back the sword if the drude was dead,” Hiyori grumbles. “It’s like one of those stupid logic puzzles people give to children when they hate them.”

 

“Believe me,” Eichi deadpans, “I agree. But he won’t die except at the end of a paladin’s blade, and Nagisa isn’t willing to relinquish mine. Which _means…_ ” His eyes slide over towards the wizard outpost that stands out in the distance. “One of my favorites has an attendant that might be useful. If he kept his blade, and kept any sort of paladin conviction, that is. I believe he’s been enjoying his life as an Enhanced.”

 

“Great. Make him do it tonight,” Hiyori suggests, “and I’ll have your sword back to you by next sundown. I’ll turn his focus back to me, he won’t be _able_ to look away, and he’ll remember he doesn’t want anything to do with that old stick.”

 

“If you show him the good time you showed me, that sounds about right. But please don’t call Sorrow’s Heart a stick, that’s just insulting!”

 

“It’s just metal and hair!”

 

“Wow. Just for that, I’m going to bed, and not dealing with this until the morning.”

 

“No! Ugh! He got your shitty prophet! At least contact your ‘favorite!’”

 

“Ask nicely. You pissed me off and I’m in a mood.”

 

Hiyori pouts, then takes a step forward, letting the tip of his finger run down Eichi’s chest, all the way to his navel. “ _Please_ ,” he breathes, looking up into Eichi’s eyes. “Your blood is up, huh? I can smell the hunt on you.”

 

Eichi inhales sharply, and his hand reaches out to quickly grab hold of Hiyori’s, his fingers squeezing firmly—but not roughly, as he obviously tries to restrain himself from making the touch painful. “That was very nice, and I’ll do what you want because of that,” he lowly says. “Maybe too nice. Don’t tempt me, princess, unless you want that, too. I’m still hungry, and you always look delicious to me.”

 

_You are so annoying you are so frustrating just do what you promised you bastard you bastard you bastard you bastard—_

 

Hiyori gives him an impish little smile, and turns his face back to Jun. “I’ll get my wizard to find us a nice place to go,” he promises. “As soon as you talk to your favorite. I want to get all of this in motion already.”

 

“Fine. The sooner, the better.” Eichi turns, then pauses, holding out his hand. “Give me the Nightcloak. I’m going to see if it burns under darkfire or not. I’ll touch base after I’m done with Tori.”

 

Hiyori hands the garment over, all too eager to get rid of it. “Let me know if you need any help with fucking him up a little to leave him vulnerable. I owe that drude a lot.”

 

“I think we’ll all want a chance to stab him,” Eichi sweetly says. “Don’t worry. You’ve been good, so you can have extra time with him.”

 

With that, he turns and strides out through the snow, humming underneath his breath.

 

“Gross,” Jun remarks. “Highness, I wish you didn’t actually like him, it makes my stomach churn.”

 

“That’s because you didn’t know him back then.” Hiyori’s heart aches. His feet ache from the cold, and his hands itch to be in Nagisa’s hair. “Come cuddle me, I don’t want to go inside with that drude still there.”

 

Jun’s arms automatically wrap around him, dragging Hiyori over in the very specific way that he likes being cuddled. “Yeah. Me either.” That’s not even Hiyori’s influence. He just _doesn’t_. No one in their right mind would.

 

“I’m a bad mate,” Hiyori says, muffled into Jun’s chest. “I should be in there, wrenching his focus back to me. But I can’t…I can’t see him like that.”

 

“I don’t think you could, with Ibara there,” Jun mutters, petting Hiyori’s hair. Hiyori probably could, says a niggling little voice in the back of his mind, but it’s slapped away by far more insistent thoughts. “Drude make it almost impossible. Let Eichi deal with it. It’s his turn to make good on his promises.”

 

“It’ll be fine, when the drude is gone,” Hiyori tells himself aloud, his own voice just as reassuring as Jun’s, saying the things he wants it to say. “It’s fine. It’s going to be good. It’ll be like it used to be, when I was his most glorious mate, and he shone brighter than anyone. And now you’ll be there, isn’t that good?”

 

“Yes, Highness. That’s how it should be.”

 

The wizard outpost has one, single lamp burning outside, lit from free-flowing magic and not any oil.

 

Eichi eyes it, then gives it a gentle tap with one finger, shutting it off. It creates a much more abandoned look for the entire, run-down place—helpful, that. His fingers curl about the door handle, and beneath his touch, it unlocks, giving way to let him push the door open with a resounding creak. “Helloo~” he calls, waving away the dust that flies open just from opening the door. “My perfect Tori, you’re here, aren’t you?”

 

“Please wait here,” Yuzuru tells Tori firmly, and lays down a swift, accurate spell, binding the blanket covering Tory to the bed as he stands, shutting the door to the inner sanctum behind him. “Show yourself,” he calls, knives tickling the ends of his fingers.

 

“Oh! You _are_ still here, thank goodness.”

 

Eichi shuts the door behind himself, hands lifted in an open peace offering, Natsume’s Nightcloak still dangling in the crook of his arm. “It’s me, Yuzuru,” he says, eyes glowing in the darkness of the main hall. “Your Emperor Eichi.”

 

Yuzuru immediately kneels, head bowed low. “Your Excellency,” he says, voice catching. “You’ve returned. Our prayers have been answered.”

 

“You’ve been praying? Ah, that must be what I heard,” Eichi laughs, stepping forward and tossing the Nightcloak aside. “Rise, there’s no need for that right now. You’ve done well, protecting my precious Tori all this time.”

 

“He’s in the sanctum,” Yuzuru says, standing slowly, keeping his head bowed. “Excellency, shall I show you in?”

 

“Please do, I’ve missed him.” Eichi rolls out a shoulder as he steps forward. “You and I need to have a conversation as well. About drude, specifically.”

 

Yuzuru can’t quite hide the way his upper lip curls at that word. “There’s one up here,” he says quietly. “I’ve sensed it for some time.”

 

“There is. A particularly nasty one at that.” Eichi’s eyes lid as he unties his own cloak from his neck, shaking the snow off of it. “I should have listened to you, the last time you sensed one. This one…is worse, if you’d believe it.”

 

“They’re all the worst scum there is,” Yuzuru says neutrally, and unlatches the door to Tori’s room. “Master, you have a visitor, make yourself presentable.”

 

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say. Now hold that thought. Ah, Tori, my darling, precious Tori, _look_ at you,” Eichi gushes, immediately switching gears as he strides inside and to the bed. “I told you I’d return! You haven’t even grown a bit, have you? That’s so _excellent._ ”

 

Yuzuru waves a hand, and unsticks Tori from the blanket.

 

Tori immediately sits up, eyes wide as saucers, as though he’s seen a ghost. “ _Eichi?_ ” he whispers, unbelieving. “But…you’re dead! Aaaahhhh you were dead!”

 

And he bursts into tears, grabbing Eichi around the waist as if he’s still a child, rather than a competent man in his twenties.

 

“There, there, it’s all right,” Eichi murmurs, settling down onto the edge of the bed and immediately wrapping Tori up into his cloak, drawing him into his chest. “That’s a good boy. I was never dead, just…gone. And now I’m here, and here to stay. I can’t believe they sent you up _here_ , it must be miserable.”

 

“It’s cold and boring,” Tori sniffs, wiping his eyes. “But I’m doing my job. Even though it’s _awful_. And everyone I like isn’t here.”

 

“That’s because you’re a good boy.” Eichi presses a kiss to his forehead, smoothing away Tori’s hair from his face. “Everyone you like…mmm. So the Suou heir?”

 

Tori flushes bright red. “Th-that’s—n-no! He’s stupid. Stupid!”

 

Eichi’s eyes lid. “Is he, now. But don’t you think he’d be lovely as Captain of the Kingsguard? Ahh…or even with a crown himself?”

 

Tori’s eyes light up. “That one! Make him king! Please! You used to promise it!”

 

“Then I’ll make him king. There’s a lot of work that needs to be done until then, though, love…and it starts up here. I need your help. And Yuzuru’s.” Eichi’s eyes slide to Yuzuru. “The drude’s name in the Depths is Oazar, and the one for his hosts is Ibara. Does that ring a bell?”

 

Yuzuru’s mouth twitches, and only a long lifetime of self-control keeps it from being an outright snarl. “It…does.”

 

“I can help!” Tori insists. “I can, I’ve gotten really good at destructive magic!”

 

“Oh, do you want to show me your new skills and practice on something, then?” Eichi asks, pulling on a strand of Tori’s hair fondly. “I have an old Nightcloak that I need burnt to a crisp, gods willing. It’s in the main hall. Go poke at it, would you, while Yuzuru and I discuss.”

 

“Yeah!” Tori scampers out of the room, shooting Eichi one last, reverent glance before he disappears.

  


Yuzuru sits, pulling out a leather roll of tools that he’s rarely needed, but never traveled without. “Excellency. Please tell me what else you need from me. Rest assured. I am ready.”

  


  


“The drude is currently attached to a descendent of mine, Nagisa.” Eichi leans back where he sits, folding his hands into his lap. “And he’s causing us all a great deal of stress. Nagisa is actually a very reasonable sort, but Ibara has convinced him that he’s a paladin.” 

  


  


Yuzuru’s jaw sets so hard he can almost hear it crack. “How long have they been attached? Do you know exactly?”

  


  


“No. But not as long…as it was with Tsumugi and I.” Just saying the name makes his head hurt, and Eichi swallows, annoyed with himself. “Anyway. He has my sword—Nagisa does. I had him hold it, as a trade agreement. Now he’s refusing to return it, even though I’ve kept my end of the bargain. Ah, it’s a mess, really…but I think he’d come back to his senses with that drude gone.” 

  


  


“Respectfully, I’ll leave the decisions about your descendant in your hands,” Yuzuru says, bowing his head. “Where is the drude? When would you like it done?”

  


  


“Do you remember where the old Sena estate is? We’ve made a bit of a nest there, temporarily,” Eichi says. “The sooner it’s done, the better…but I think it would be best to make sure Nagisa isn’t around. He’s rather fond of the thing.” 

  


  


Nerves and excitement start to war in Yuzuru’s chest. “It…has been a long time,” he admits, lashes swept low. “But I won’t fail you. This drude and I…have met before.”

  


  


“Oh?” Eichi leans forward, eyebrows raised. “Is this an old Hilbrandt story? I’m curious now.” 

  


  


Yuzuru takes a long breath, then exhales through his nose. “Yes, Excellency. I was…young. Still in training. Oazar came upon our training camp.”

  


  


“This sounds like a very sensitive spot,” Eichi remarks. “If I’m distressing you by asking about it, you don’t have to tell it…though I am still curious.”

  


There’s a rather impressive sounding explosion in the front hall that makes him pause before continuing. “Yuzuru. I need to warn you—as with most of the things I’ve done, this bid for power has upset the Demon King quite a bit. When you’re done with this drude, I need you to keep Tori safe at all costs.”

  


  


Yuzuru looks at Eichi, then down to the front door. “Yes, Excellency. If there’s anything you can do to make me aware of specific dangers beforehand, I’d prefer to know.”

  


  


“I stole their prophet,” Eichi answers simply. “Rei’s going to be furious. To be blunt—don’t engage him. It’s suicide. Insofar as his other followers, Wataru is…gone.” Saying it aloud makes  _him_  furious, and tamping down on that to continue talking is difficult. “I don’t know about Kanata, or Shu, for the moment. I think when you’re through with the drude, the best course of action is for you to take Tori back towards the Capital.”

  


  


Yuzuru nods shortly, then plucks a long, slender dagger out of his leather tool roll. It thrums with quiet power, fitted just right to his hand, and he rolls up the rest of his tools, tucking them safely away. “Try to get your descendant away from the drude. When Oazar sees me, he will not be quiet. I gave him a scar he’s tried very hard to hide.”

  


  


“Oooh. That sounds like a fun story for you to tell me when you’ve accomplished this, and we can all settle down for a drink,” Eichi lightly says, climbing to his feet. “I’ll see what I can do. They’re a bit…attached.”

  


  


“I don’t want to have to hurt your descendant,” Yuzuru says carefully. “And if he’s powerful enough to be related to you, I don’t want to be stopped before I can do what I must.” He pauses, then adds, “I won’t fail you. This creature must die.”

  


  


“As I said, I’ll do what I can to remove him. So will his mate. I don’t want you to engage him, trust me,” Eichi sighs, turning away to stride to the door. “Tori, darling, did you burn it to a crisp yet?” 

  


  


“It  _bit_  me!” Tori says, dismayed and offended, a black soot streak across his nose as he kicks the offending object. “It’s not allowed to do that!”

  


  


“Alas, I was afraid of that,” Eichi sighs. “Did you just try wizard’s fire, love? That typically won’t do the trick with Nightcloaks.” 

  


  


“I tried wizard’s fire, but I also tried the Unraveling you taught me, and the Dissolving I learned by myself!”

  


  


“Hmm. And it still bit you? How rude,” Eichi sighs, the heels of his boots clicking over the wood floor as he walks closer, peering down at the entirely unscathed cloak. “In that case, darkfire it is. Stand back, it might be nasty about this.” 

  


It’s only a spark of flame that hovers around his fingertips, but the heat that radiates from the purple-tinged tip of it seems almost immeasurable before Eichi drops it down onto the cloak. Even he hurriedly takes a step back, expecting recoil and backlash akin to the explosion he’d heard moments before, but instead, the flame seems to take hold, burning the fabric with a crackle that slowly spreads and creeps, melting it instead of turning it to ash. “…Well,” he breathes, watching, mesmerized, “that’s satisfying.” 

  


_Hiyori. You want the drude dead, don’t you?_

  


  


_More than anything_ , comes the immediate, eager response.

  


Moments after, a spark of purple light dances on the edge of the darkfire, then builds to a startling, white-hot blaze. Yuzuru grabs Tori, yanking him around, covering him with his body with a shout, just as the purple fire explodes, a radiant, glass-meltingly hot blossom of light the size of the room they stand in.

  


  


_Hold that thought._

  


Eichi bolts back, his own cloak held up over himself as a shield from as much the brilliancy of the light as the force of it. As it starts to die down, he can’t help but laugh, smelling the singed ends of his own hair that whipped free from his ponytail. “Beautiful,” he giggles, slowly lowering his arm and cloak with it. “What a display. That’s exactly how something should react to darkfire in this realm, I love it.” 

  


_Remove Nagisa from his presence at all costs, and it’ll be safely done. I don’t care what you have to do; figure it out._

 

 

_Fine. Give me one hour._

 

Yuzuru straightens up, then immediately begins checking over Tori, touching him everywhere. “Master, are you all right? Is any of your skin singed at all? Let me see it all, take off your—“

 

“Stop it! I’m fine!”

 

_Good boy._

 

“He’s very capable, aren’t you, Tori?” Eichi praises, walking back over to the singed lump that was once fabric, giving it a little prod with his boot. “Yuzuru. In a hour, go deal with that thing.”

 

A fierce light glows in Yuzuru’s eyes. “First…privately, I want to ask you something. Please, Excellency.”

 

“Of course. Run back to bed, Tori. Hopefully, you can go back to the Capital soon.”

 

“I’m not tired,” Tori protests, then flushes hot when Yuzuru shoots him a mildly disapproving look. “Well…I’ll go. But I want to hear about it all afterwards!”

 

He trudges up the stairs, and Yuzuru turns to Eichi, an odd, almost vulnerable expression on his face. “I know you’ll take care of him if I fail,” he says, “so that isn’t it. I just…will you bless me? Before I go?”

 

Eichi blinks, then laughs, a little startled in spite of himself. “Ah…well. I don’t have my sword, as I previously mentioned. I’m not sure you’d find it as fulfilling…but if you don’t mind that…”

 

“Use this, please.” Yuzuru hands over his dagger, a tiny, stiletto-sharp version of the swords paladins use. “It’s the core. It just didn’t make any sense for me to carry the full blade. Too obvious.”

 

“This is why I like you,” Eichi says with a wry smile, taking the dagger. “Smart as a whip as always. Very well, then. Go ahead and kneel.”

 

Yuzuru kneels eagerly, presenting his head and shoulders. “My Lord,” he whispers, closing his eyes.

 

It has been a long, long time.

 

This sort of ritual runs far off-course compared to the rest of the night’s activities, but that doesn’t change how Yuzuru’s dagger thrums even in his grasp, recognizing him so distinctly as who he was—no, who he is. If he believes it, even for a little while, that _will_ make it so.

 

Eichi’s eyes lid, and he draws the dagger across his own arm, blood welling swiftly to the surface from even the slightest pressure. He turns the dagger, letting his blood smear over the blade before he steps forward, resting it upon Yuzuru’s shoulder as a fingertip of that blood presses to his temple. “May the truth of the gods light your way,” he softly says. “To abolish the creatures causing this world harm. Stay safe, Yuzuru of the Hilbrandt.”

 

“Thank you, my Lord,” Yuzuru says, just as softly, and rises. His shoulders are back, his chin high, and he takes the dagger back, brimming with a sense of purpose. “I will go out and meditate now. Your will shall be done before the sun rises. This I swear, by the blessing I bear,” he finishes, reciting the rote words he’d learned at his father’s knee, before he learned how to read.

 

“I trust in your faith, Yuzuru.” Eichi smiles before turning away, collapsing back down into an old, tattered chaise. “Now, if you don’t mind—I’ll be taking a nap. I’ve had _quite_ a long day.”

 


	41. Chapter 41

 

In the darkness of a demon’s dreams, a light shines.

 

Specifically, in the darkness of Rei’s dreams, a spark flares in a dark room. A moment later, Shu materializes, and grabs Rei by the front of his imagined robes, pulling him close. “Rei! Where is Natsume?” he demands, wild-eyed.

 

Rei, in his dream, finds himself jerked awake from what is a productive, if not restful sleep. In reality, Rei merely shifts, brow furrowed as he curls further onto his side. “What the _actual_ hells, Shu,” he manages, staring about the odd, dark dreamscape. “This is—impressive? What do you mean, where is Natsume? Pretending to sleep, I imagine!”

 

“We had to talk,” Shu says dismissively, waving aside the minor inconvenience of the incredible wizardry he’d produced on the fly with no preparation. “Sorry I didn’t have time to create a background. If Natsume is pretending to sleep, who just destroyed his Nightcloak with _darkfire_?”

 

It feels rather like he’s been punched in the gut when those words fully process. “I don’t know. He was resting with Kanata—so I don’t know. If someone took him, they would’ve had to cross my barriers, and that’s impossible without me noticing. Where are _you?_ ”

 

“On my way North, as of the second I let you wake up.”

 

“Then let me wake up, and I’ll open a fire portal.” Rei’s voice is low in warning. “If you burst into our stronghold with this conversation, think twice and bite your tongue. Kaoru can’t know right now.”

 

Shu’s mouth thins to a pale line. “Because at all costs, the paladin must be protected from anything I say.”

 

“No, because they’re fucking bonded. Now _let me wake up_.”

 

“ _Find Natsume,_ ” Shu snarls. “And portal me there!”

 

Then he snaps his fingers aristocratically, and the dream dissolves.

 

Rei wakes with a sharp inhale of breath, abruptly sitting upright, his heart pounding and vision blurring.

 

That doesn’t stop him from hauling himself to his feet from the nest of furs that he’s made, dislodging his limbs from Kaoru’s as he strides briskly to the dying fire, stokes it once, and then sharply brings it back to a roaring flame with a flick of his fingers and a button ripped from his own tunic (made by Shu, of course).

 

Then, he yanks down the barrier of their bond. _There. Come on, then._

 

Shu emerges from the fireplace, standing tall and so angry that anyone who didn’t know him would think he was cold, and anyone who knew him well would know that he was furious. “They _burned my cloak_ ,” he hisses, embracing the anger as it keeps him from panic, grabbing Rei’s hand and yanking him towards the outer doors. “I’ll flay them alive!”

 

“ _That’s_ what you’re concerned about?” Rei lowly hisses back, reversing Shu’s grip to yank _him_ outside instead, straight into the snowy walkway as he shuts the door behind them as quickly as possible. His magic expands further once he’s outside, away from the very tired, very sensitive paladin, searching for Natsume all the way up until his magic hits the limits of his borders—and finds nothing, bringing a curse from his lips. “Fuck. There has been _no one_ here except for my own, he had to have left on his own accord.”

 

Shu points at the tracks on the ground, a single pair of footprints leading away. “He walked out. Must have been tricked. You ass, do you really think I’m worried about the _cloak_?” he demands, eyes blazing. “I meant that it had to have been an incredibly powerful wizard, that cloak is designed to protect him through Hell itself!”

 

“Maybe phrase your words more sweetly for once, then!” Rei spits out, and gestures broadly with one arm out over the snowy landscape. “We’re in the midst of a war, Shu. There’s no shortage of powerful wizards up here right now, but you _know_ who can destroy something you made. Narrow it down.”

 

“Maybe be less sarcastic for once when we’re both overwrought!” Shu snaps, and nearly slaps Rei across the face. “Well? Let’s go!”

 

“I swear to the gods, you are the most _infuriating_ —“ Rei bites his tongue, his hands clenched at his sides as he takes a step back, breathing heavily. He rakes a hand back through his hair as he looks away, collecting himself. “It’s my fault,” he finally says. “I should’ve kept him under lock and key. He clearly wasn’t in his right mind—he’s spent time with his magic sealed completely away over the past week, reading old paladin texts day in and day out, only to come out and find that Wataru is gone, and he and Kaoru are—“

 

The words stick in his throat. “Apparently, he Saw something about Eichi attacking him. I didn’t have a chance to ask him what; he was so exhausted, I just wanted him to try and rest before I talked to him about anything.”

 

“Stop going over it!” Shu hisses, grabbing Rei by the lapel, hauling him bodily away from the little enclave. “It happened, it shouldn’t have, let’s go get him and _then_ I can tell you all the things you did wrong!”

 

“You want to _barge into_ _an archdemon’s den?_ ” Rei plants his feet, grabbing Shu’s arm fast. “You’re a fucking idiot. No, Shu, I’m not just _going to go get him._ There are three of them. They have a drude. Eichi has absolutely nothing binding him.”

 

Shu snarls, and strikes Rei across the face, uncaring that it sends out a slap of hurt across his own bond. “Stop being a coward! You’re fed, you’re near the Shadowlands, you have _me_ with you to feed you power, and he has _Natsume_. I’m not going to leave him there!”

 

Stonefaced, uncaring of the blossoming red handprint that stands out across his cheek, Rei remains where he stands. “Call me a coward all you want. You’re refusing to see the nuance of this situation. If he has Natsume, then I’ll retrieve him, and Eichi will die if he’s laid a single finger on him. But _timing_ ,” he lowly says, finally taking a step forward, “is part of this. I sent you to the South, so you don’t know. Wataru is dead. Eichi can put his hands all over you. Kanata is fucking useless because he’s been away from his bonded for too long. The Shadowlands border is less than a dozen miles from here. My brother, the king’s heir, _your_ Mika, are all right there. If we engage before I’m certain that drude is dead—which I have a plan for, and was going to engage it in the morning, thank you—they are dead. We are _fucked_. Do you understand me? Or do I need to forcibly tie you down and make you listen to what I’m saying?”

 

Shu’s face twists in absolute disdain, and he shoves Rei away, glaring daggers at him. “First I’m too stupid to understand that it’s Eichi that has him,” he says, every word dripping acid, “but when it comes to getting him, suddenly you’re not sure. You are a coward, Sakuma Rei. You let other people get hurt because you’re afraid—afraid to lose people you care about, I always thought, but Natsume is out there, _right now,_ and it’s our _duty_ to protect him! I’ve been trying to reach him mind-to-mind, and I c—“ His voice cuts off into a ragged, choked cry, and he presses a white-knuckled, trembling hand to his mouth.

 

That stress and pain flutters through their bond as clear as day, and instinct makes Rei want to recoil, overstimulated just from that much. He grits his teeth, looking away, saying nothing more to Shu as he snaps his fingers. “Koga.”

 

The enormous wolf rises from a snowdrift, shaking off the piles of snow that accumulated on him overnight, making him blend easily in with the landscape. _Yeah?_

 

“Go find that half-blood. I know he’s lurking around.”

 

Koga nods, bounding off through the snow without another word. After a moment of breathing slowly, calming himself down, Rei slowly offers Shu his hand, though he doesn’t look directly at him. “Come inside. I’m begging you, come inside. Don’t throw yourself at Eichi’s doorstep without a plan. I can’t lose Wataru, Natsume, _and_ you.”

 

Tears spill down Shu’s cheeks, and after a long, cold moment, Shu’s hand slips into Rei’s, as perfectly as a key sliding into a lock. “You aren’t a coward,” he whispers, not looking at Rei. “That’s all I have to give right now.”

 

“That’s fine.”

 

Rei’s long fingers curl, giving Shu’s hand a squeeze before he draws him back towards the tiny house, opening the door for him and letting him in. “Where is he, by the way?” he asks. “Our son.”

 

“Safe.” Shu hesitates. “Even here, behind all the wards, I don’t want to say where out loud.”

 

“Fine.” Rei releases his hand to toss a few furs over a decidedly rickety looking chair. “Have a seat, then. Kanata,” he calls, raising his voice enough now that Kaoru should start to rouse, too, “wake up. Enough dying.”

 

There’s a decidedly unhappy moan that follows that before moments later, the bedroom door creaks open, and Kanata, wan and pale, slumps against the doorframe. “Why?” he unhappily asks, his eyes sliding over Shu, then to Kaoru. “Hm…”

 

Kaoru’s eyes flutter unhappily, and he groans, flopping over facedown. “Please only talk if you have some of that Shadetea,” he pleas. “Shadewine and opium hate me.”

 

“Truly, the model of a holy paladin in love,” Shu says sarcastically. “Kanata, my friend.” He reaches out a hand, squeezing Kanata’s shoulder. “You’re well?”

 

Rei shoots Shu a sour look, not entirely over their argument even as he moves to prepare the tea in question. “Be more alert, Kaoru,” he quietly says, pulling a few leaves from the various plants that poke their way through the walls.

 

Kanata sways with the squeeze as if he was shoved. “No,” he mutters, his head thunking against the doorframe. “Why…are you here? You were supposed to be in the South…”

 

“You need my help,” Shu says, as gently as he can. “Natsume needs our help.”

 

Kaoru flips over on the couch, and he sits bolt upright, eyes wide and nervous. They unfocus for a moment, then widen further in panic. “I can’t—he’s not saying anything,” he says, standing and walking to the door, as if under a trance.

 

“I told you not to mention it yet,” Rei flatly says, turning away from his task to grab Kaoru by the arm and drag him back to the furs. “Sit.” He snaps his fingers in front of Kaoru’s face. “Focus. Try to. If you don’t, you can’t do anything.”

 

Kanata pauses, his brow knitting as he focuses enough himself to remember. “Ah. Yes…he was sleeping in bed with me. Or…trying to. He kicks a lot…but then…nothing. And then the room was cold…he left the window open…”

 

Kaoru sits like a dog, staring blankly in front of him. Then, abruptly, he shoves past Rei and out the door, but only to be sick in the snow. A few moments later, he comes back in, clearer-eyed and absolutely miserable. “I’m focused. I need my sword, but I’m focused.”

 

“At least he’s got his priorities right,” Shu mutters.

 

“It’s by the door where you left it.” Rei holds up a cup of hot tea directly underneath Kaoru’s nose. “Drink. You need to, do not argue with me, sit down and drink it. Then we’re all going to have a conversation, and get to work.”

 

Kaoru sits obediently, takes the cup, and takes a long sip. He makes a face, and only avoids retching again with a force of will. “Oh. I forgot how bad it tastes when you make it from green leaves.”

 

Rei’s shrug is apologetic. “Needs must.”

 

Kanata slowly slithers over, collapsing down next to Kaoru by the sheer force of will alone. Rei remains standing, tapping one foot for a moment before exhaling a hot breath. “Right. Kaoru. Reiterate what you know of what Natsume has Seen so we have a clearer picture of what to expect now. I don’t have the luxury of picking his brain now.”

 

Kaoru’s mouth twists, and he stares at the wall, face going blank as he starts to talk. He repeats everything Natsume told him, the vision, how he’d felt about it, how _unavoidable_ it had felt. “He wasn’t sure what happened after Eichi raped him,” he finishes, voice dull. “He said, maybe Nagisa did too, but he couldn’t see that much.”

 

Rei stays silent for a moment, looking away, drawing in a slow, even breath as he tries to collect himself. It’s easier said than done, considering the far brisker rate at which the plants try to grow their way in through the small cottage. He opens his mouth to say something, then shuts it again, and abruptly turns towards the door—only to be met with it suddenly opening, a harried looking Mao standing there, dragging Hokuto behind him. “Found him,” he bites out.

 

That, at least, snaps Rei’s mind back into coherent thought, rather than the sharp, red anger that threatened to overtake it. “Hokuto. Lovely for you to join us.”

 

“There is a bird,” Hokuto flatly says, jabbing a finger over his shoulder. “And it is screaming at me. Which is fairly pertinent.”

 

“I understand this, but is it leaving?”

 

Hokuto cranes his head back, then shakes his head. “No.”

 

“Then come inside.”

 

Hokuto hesitates, looking over his shoulder once more before doing as he’s told, leaving Mao to shut the door as he shakes the dust off of himself. “Wataru told me to stay put in the Hinterlands,” he mutters, looking aside. “I refused.”

 

“All of his proteges are like that, apparently.”

 

“Lord Rei,” Mao faintly says, looking fairly close to passing out. Rei abruptly sucks his power back in, fingers tensely drumming against his own hip.

 

“Sorry. Here’s my idea,” he says, instead of focusing on the way Mao’s legs buckle. “Kaoru. Are you prepared to deal with the drude as soon as possible? If not, what can I do to make that happen?”

 

Kaoru, for once, ignores Mao, and nods as he finishes his cup of disgusting tea. “I’m ready to kill it. But I don’t know how to find a drude. I’ll be relying on you and yours to do that.”

 

“I can find him,” Shu says, brow furrowed. “I…think. If I had something of his, certainly, but I don’t even know his name.”

 

“I’ve got that. His true name, and his summoning name.”

 

“Oh. Then yes, I should be able to. I just need—damn, where’s Izumi when you need him? Fine, I’ll make do without the finger, but it’s…a bit less accurate.”

 

“The moment you cast that spell, this place will be targeted,” Rei warns. “So we’ll only do that once we’re all ready to leave. It’s also likely that by now, wherever the drude is, Natsume will not be…and I’m assuming none of us can still sense him.”

 

Kanata shakes his head after Rei glances over to him, but it’s Hokuto that raises a hand. “If there’s anything left of Wataru on him,” he says. “I can find him.”

 

“Unfortunately, anything magical would be gone by now. And the Nightcloak _Wataru_ gave him…I have no idea what he did with it, but I doubt it’s with him.”

 

Hokuto chews on his lower lip, glancing back outside. “The bird might know.”

 

The look on Rei’s face is just so tired that he can’t even be bothered. _Airbred give me such a headache._ “Does it seem to?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then go after it. Do what you can, and report back before you take action. Take Mao, you’ll need an extra pair of hands.”

 

Hokuto hesitates at that, but Mao nods, straightening up and visibly shaking himself off. “Let’s go,” he urges, taking Hokuto’s arm.

 

Rei’s attention flicks immediately back to the rest of the room as the door shuts behind them. “I’m not willing to risk any of us until we know the proper status and location of their den,” he bluntly says. “Showing up on Eichi’s doorstep unprepared is suicide. As I explained to Shu, we’re a dozen miles from the Shadowlands border. If Eichi, Nagisa, and Hiyori are working together with a drude all at once, they could easily demolish the borderland magic there, spill over into the Shadowlands, and do even more damage. Natsume, lest you forget, is a Nightcloak in his own right…and there’s no point in killing a fully fledged prophet. They want him alive, so that’s a small blessing we can all remind ourselves of.”

 

“But they’d be just…obscenely stupid to go into the Shadowlands,” Kaoru says slowly. “Eichi knows what you could accomplish there, and he’s got to know by now that you’ve taken your power up.”

 

“You forget that regardless of what he was before, he’s an archdemon now. They all are. Their power expands there as well, and I have too much there to just assume I’ll win.” Rei pauses, then looks over at Shu. “You missed that, by the way. Eichi is a paladin. The first paladin, in fact.”

 

“Uh, what?” Shu asks, so flummoxed by this information out of nowhere that it hardly lands in his mind. “I don’t understand, so just…skip that for now.”

 

“No, we’re going over it. His magic isn’t what you think it is.” Rei, unable to resist, finally starts pacing. “You’re assuming you can defeat him strictly as an archdemon, but he’s been actively using paladin-based rituals for weeks. The way he’s protecting the king is a paladin spell. I’d wager anything that the way he closed the last Sorrow’s Gate was the old paladin method of ‘throw yourself at it and die.’ He’s not a true archdemon; he’s a seraphim. Revise the way you think about how magic works on him. I’ve had to.”

 

Shu’s chin wobbles, then he sucks in a sharp breath through his nose. “Please give me five minutes to internalize this,” he says, and abruptly walks out of the room, closing the door to Kanata’s room behind him.

 

“Okay,” Kaoru says to the empty place where Shu was, and drags a hand down his face. “He’s not responding over our bond, Rei. But I know he’s not dead.”

 

Rei resists the urge to clamp down on their bond, to ignore the stressed, nervous energy that flows through it like a river, before turning back to Kaoru. “Good. He won’t die. He’s a Nightcloak, like the rest of us—and far stronger than any of us give him credit for, besides.”

 

“…I’m sorry.” Kanata’s voice is quiet. “I should’ve noticed…when he left.”

 

“It’s not your fault—“

 

“But…it is. I could’ve stopped him.”

 

Rei’s smile is wry as he collapses back down into his chair. “Maybe I could’ve, too, if I had noticed him leave my wards. With that in mind, it’s my fault far more than yours, but there’s nothing to be done but deal with it now.”

 

Kanata curls up unhappily still, drawing a knee to his chest. “I heard you and Shu fighting about it.”

 

“Inevitable. Eichi burned Natsume’s Nightcloak, so Shu found out first.” Rei’s eyes slide to Kaoru. “We’ll get him back, Kaoru. I promise you.”

 

 _But how much of him will be left,_ Kaoru very carefully doesn’t ask. That doesn’t do anyone any good. For someone who’d been blithely telling Natsume that he’s used to saying goodbye to loved ones with the passage of time, Kaoru suddenly finds himself on the verge of a meltdown at the prospect of losing Natsume. “We will,” he says, hoping he sounds convincing.

 

“…I’m going to give Shu one of my fingers,” Kanata suddenly decides.

 

“Ah. Well, that—oh, I see,” Rei says, watching Kanata immediately rise and slink off into the bedroom that Shu had locked himself up into. “Fine. Kaoru?”

 

“Mm?” Kaoru looks up, a worried line between his brows. “I can be useful, I’m sober.”

 

“I know you are. But…” Rei rises, walks over, and collapses next to Kaoru instead. “Let me pet you while I think strategy and try not to be a hotblooded fool about this.”

 

“Please,” Kaoru groans, and flops onto Rei. “I feel so fucking sick. Knowing that he went out to that willingly…what do I do about that?”

 

Rei immediately arranges Kaoru across his lap, stroking a hand through his hair as if he’s made exactly for this manner of petting. “Like with all prophecies, I doubt he knew he was walking into it until it started,” he quietly says. “I know Natsume fairly well, and…my guess is he left to clear his head away from all of the magic here. It’s oppressive, to someone as sensitive as him. And that’s when they found him.” Rei grimaces. “I have to really explain to Shu that Wataru is potentially alive and working with Eichi now that I know about this. I was hoping Natsume was wrong—“

 

He pauses, tilts his head back, and frowns. “No, that can’t be right. Hokuto can’t sense him. Wataru still has to be dead. That leaves…an illusion, or a shapeshifter.”

 

“Both of those things…require so much power, I don’t want to think about it,” Kaoru says, shuddering and letting himself be petted. Somehow, even with all the horrible things happening, with Rei’s long fingers in his hair, it still feels like maybe, maybe, it really will all be all right. It always has been before, after all, and the gods only know how bleak things have appeared before. “I just…I want him back. I want him safe so badly I’d give Shu a finger, and I can’t grow it back like Kanata.”

 

“A hell of a shapeshifter or illusionist, if even Natsume was fooled in his visions,” Rei grouses, chewing on his lower lip slowly as he thinks, winding Kaoru’s hair about his fingers. “Kaoru, that child has a backbone of steel. For all we know, he’s already in the process of rescuing himself. I guarantee the main emotion he’s feeling right now is rightfully being pissed off.” Rei bends forward, pressing his lips to the top of Kaoru’s head. “I’ll see that you have him back. I swear to you—it’s the first pact I’ll make you as the Demon King.”

 

“You don’t even need to swear that,” Kaoru says softly, and reaches up, pressing his hand to Rei’s cheek. “I know you’ll do whatever you have to to bring him home. You love him, too. Not just because magic says you have to.”

 

Rei cracks a smile at that, even through a wince when Kaoru touches his still aching cheek, and turns his head to press a kiss to Kaoru’s palm. “You’re right. But let me swear it anyway—it makes me feel better after my mate thoroughly berated me.”

 

“Swear it, then.” Kaoru’s voice, much to his own surprise, has a resonant, ringing tone. “But be aware, you do it on my honor.”

 

Rei’s eyes lid, and his hand lifts to curl around Kaoru’s, bringing it to his lips properly. “Then I swear it on your honor, because a demon can’t be trusted in the eyes of a paladin,” he softly says. “I’ll bring Natsume home to you.”

 

Kaoru’s eyes look like the sea after a storm, and he nods. “I don’t know why I said it like that. I trust you, Rei.”

 

“Because you’re a paladin, and I’m the Demon King. I don’t mind.” Rei kisses Kaoru’s hand again. “Go meditate like I know paladins do before I start sucking on your fingers like I’m apt to do. I need to speak to my own mate.”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I need…I need to be in my head for a minute. It’s messy in there.” Kaoru gives him a rueful smile, then walks outside into the snow, letting the door shut behind him.

 

Rei straightens himself up, fixes his mussed hair, and walks to the bedroom door that Shu and Kanata both disappeared behind. He hesitates, then settles for opening it with only a single quiet knock.

 

On the bed, Kanata is already passed out again, an arm dangling off the side followed by the long, curling stream of his hair. Rei lingers in the doorway for a moment before shutting it behind him and leaning back against it. “You’re stronger than you look,” he finally, wryly leads with. “My face still hurts.”

 

“Get in line for sympathy,” Shu says. “Kanata’s regrowing bones.” He strokes a hand through Kanata’s hair, making certain it’s nice and wet first.

 

“I’m not asking for sympathy. I’m attempting to interject a bit of humor into a situation where there is none as a peace offering, but if you’ll have none of it, I can continue to talk to you like a ‘proper’ Demon King would his queen.”

 

Shu opens his mouth, then closes it again, looking away. “I…thought I was being amusing, too,” he says quietly, more of an admission than he would usually give.

 

Rei falls silent for a moment, then heaves a sigh, spreading his hands in open surrender. “My apologies. I’m being too sensitive. And…being resentful, I think, of the first time we’ve truly disagreed about the handling of a situation.”

 

Shu nods slowly. “I’m more at fault than you are,” he admits, his hands carefully stroking over the spell he’s crafted, sitting gently between his hands. “Though, no, I’m not. I only called you a coward _after_ you called me an idiot. I accept your apology.”

 

“In all fairness, you woke me up _very_ abruptly.” Rei drifts over, gently brushing Shu’s hair back, tucking it behind one ear. “I will apologize in advance,” he lowly says. “Because you don’t get to deliver the final blow. That would bring him too much pleasure.”

 

“I don’t care who strikes him down. I just want him dead, for good.” Shu’s mouth turns. “But I know I may not get that. Especially not with the king. So just…take his ability to make mischief.”

 

“Shu. I don’t care about the king.”

 

Shu blinks. “Well, I do. So pull your head out of your ass, you’re not killing the king.”

 

“If it comes between the safety of this realm for another century or two and the current king, yes, I will.” Rei leans back, folding his arms over his chest. “Leo and I have had this conversation. Even if we hadn’t, you know he’d feel the same.”

 

“I’d be less concerned if I thought you were going to stay and attempt to ease the kingdom through a leaderless crisis of succession,” Shu says doubtfully. “But I know we’re going to the Shadowlands. I don’t see that killing the king then leaving is any worse for the realm at this point, no matter my personal feelings.”

 

“There’s the Suou boy, until Leo’s heir comes of age.” Rei shrugs a shoulder. “We can’t have both. We can’t have Eichi dead and the current king continuing to live, not with the spellwork currently wrought upon him. And on a personal level, Eichi has lost the privilege of existing here—unless you have a marked interest in keeping him alive and gelded in a dungeon, in which I will _consider_ the idea, but only because it’s you.”

 

“If you wanted me to go along with you in killing the king, you should have made gelding the monster sound less attractive,” Shu says wistfully, petting Kanata again. “But I don’t think this is the sort of decision you can make for yourself, Rei. You’re making it for everyone.”

 

“You’re right. I do have to make it for everyone. That’s the duty of a king.” Rei spreads his hands wearily. “Someone’s going to disagree with me no matter what I decide. Someone will call me a coward, and others a tyrant. The only thing that will make me the former is if I don’t act at all, and the latter, if I save no one and take only what I want. Both are tempting, I assure you…but I need _you_ at least to fight by my side instead of against me, or we’ll get nothing done. If you have opinions, I’ll hear them, so long as you aren’t hitting me with the full weight of a dragon behind it. You’re fae, have a softer touch at least.”

 

That at least gets a real smile from Shu, and he leans over, kissing Rei on the cheek he’d struck. “I’ll be sure to pluck your lucks next time, my Lord. But…mm. You are a king, but not of this realm.”

 

Rei winces, batting him away half-heartedly. “It still _hurts_ , you evil creature. At the moment, I’m the only king they’ve got, and I’m in possession of their heir-apparent, the mother of which is a wizard and under my domain. I’m close enough.”

 

“The mother of which,” Shu says slowly, “is legally the Queen—or, the Lord Consort or something. That’s whose opinion we need, Rei. You’re the Demon King—you shouldn’t interfere politically, and killing the king is absolutely political, without the monarch’s express request. I think we need to ask Izumi’s opinion.”

 

“That requires a trip to the Shadowlands when I’m trying not to draw attention to him. Or bringing him here, which is dangerous on a whole other level.” Rei sighs, tilting his head back. “I know that what you are saying is correct, but I’m worried the time for that has passed. I didn’t expect Eichi to escalate this so quickly, with Natsume.”

 

“Is it ever too late, to do the right thing?” Shu asks, as gently as he can. “I’m not saying not to save Natsume. But perhaps a strike team to do that, and kill the drude, and _then_ we send someone to consult. Rei, have Ritsu talk to him, hasn’t he been in your trusted stead for a decade?”

 

“Yes. Longer.” Rei laces his hands together. “Fine. I’ll reach out to Ritsu. Bear in mind he’s in love with that little ice snake, his inquiries regarding the situation might be leading. Loyal to the king or not, he’s still a demon, and a nasty, possessive shit at that.”

 

“But you’ll know you’re doing the right thing,” Shu presses. “I know that matters to you. Humans live such delightfully brief, brutal lives, but you’ll have to live with any damage you do for eons. And you’ll feel bad. For eons. And worse, your mate, me, is intending to live next to you for those eons, and I will never, _never_ stop reminding you of the time I was right.”

 

“I’ll reach out to him, I’m doing it now,” Rei growls, automatically pulling at Ritsu’s mind as he says that. “You’re pissing me off an awful lot today. It makes me hard.”

 

“You’re transparent,” Shu says, amused. “What you like is obvious.”

 

_Brother? Er, Majesty?_

 

“Yes,” Rei says, reaching out to catch one of Shu’s sleeves and pull him closer. “It’s you. You are what I like.”

 

_You can still call me that. Ritsu—is Izumi coherent enough for you to have a conversation with him? I need you to talk to him sooner, rather than later, about something very important._

 

Even with the warning, Shu still lets out a breathy gasp when Rei grabs him, stumbling into him without meaning to, catching himself on that broad chest. “Mm, well…I suppose I find you…tolerable.”

 

 _Coherent, crazy, trying to burn my house down,_ Ritsu sends back fondly. _Yeah, he can talk if you come close to the border._

 

_I don’t have time for that. This is a very difficult question, but I need you to ask it for me: if there’s a choice between the king dying upon Eichi’s death, or Eichi living as a risk to the realm along with the king, what should we choose?_

 

Rei’s hands immediately drop to Shu’s slender waist, squeezing as his mouth finds its way to Shu’s throat before he can stop himself. “You find me more than tolerable,” he murmurs, nipping firmly before nuzzling up into Shu’s hair. “But my cock likes when you complain.”

 

_You don’t have to ask him right this second. Just…get back to me within the next few hours. We need to know._

 

 _Okay…_ Ritsu’s voice is doubtful. _He’s not going to like those choices at all, Brother._

 

_Tell him that’s where we’re at, and he’s the Queen, or…Lord Consort, whatever he’s called. I’m deferring to his decision._

 

“There, I’ve been good, he’s been asked,” Rei concludes, swiftly flicking away Shu’s hair from his neck.

 

“…Then take your Queen as your prize,” Shu says, voice low as he winds his hands around Rei’s neck. “Up here…I can feel how powerful you grow, my Lord.”

 

He’d behaved himself hours ago, sat on his hands, sympathized and petted and dragged back every ounce of desire that had made him want to sink his teeth into Kaoru’s neck when Kaoru had been willing—but not interested.

 

It doesn’t make him a saint, nor does he want a pat on the back for it, but this, Rei decides, is _absolutely_ a prize received for being patient and decent and waiting for what is _truly_ his.

 

His hands aren’t exceptionally gentle as he yanks Shu close by the hips, mouthing over his neck, sucking hard on his favorite spot to bite before he does just that, sinking his teeth in as he shoves Shu’s back to the wall. The taste of blood makes him groan, and he shoves a thigh between Shu’s, his own already achingly hard cock pressed hot and hard into Shu’s hip.

 

The second Rei’s teeth sink into his skin, Shu arches, a low gasp on his lips as his head falls back. “Should…ah, let me put the spell down, my Lord, it’s delicate, your touch makes me forget my own name…”

 

Rei’s touch does more than that, inflaming him, making him writhe, the hard press of his length against Shu’s hip making his mouth water.

 

Rei’s eyes flick up, pupils slitted as he swallows his mouthful and pulls back only through extreme force of will. “Then put it down,” he rumbles, tongue dragging over his lower lip to taste any lingering blood. “So I can make you forget your name sooner, my Queen.”

 

Shu summons what’s left of his mind and magic with a mental effort, and creates a shell around the spell, preserving and stabilizing it. Then he turns to shove Rei down onto the bed, before pausing. “Oh. Kanata’s here. Hello, Kanata.”

 

Kanata grumbles, heaving himself up into a sitting position. “I’m…moving.”

 

“Appreciated,” Rei breathlessly says, yanking Shu atop his hips as he lurches up to get his mouth on that long neck again, sucking and biting.

 

Kanata hauls himself from the bed with a flip of his hair and cloak, slithering from the room, and Rei bites again as his hips rock up, grinding the hard line of his cock against the curve of Shu’s ass. “I want,” he breathes into Shu’s ear, “to eat you whole.”

 

Shu’s mind gives up, and his body takes over. He yanks at Rei’s cloak, getting it off, getting himself under Rei’s shirt and breeches in a matter of heartbeats, turning into a creature of pure need. “I can’t,” he pants, eyes glazed with eager, heady pleasure. “I can’t, I can’t think, unless you’re in me, Rei, please—“

 

Rei, for a moment, attempts to unlace Shu’s breeches like a human would. Silly, he’s silly and an idiot, and that is absolutely what claws are for, or magic, if he had the mind for that right now, but he doesn’t, so help him. “Scold me later,” he mutters, ripping the finely woven fabric off, only taking any time at all to unlace Shu’s cloak and toss it aside to prevent further damages. His cock aches, dripping when it takes it in hand, the brisk summoning of slick, warm oil making his toes curl as he eases it to Shu’s hole.

 

“Here, love.” Somehow, his hands are steady on Shu’s hips, lifting him enough to make it easier to get inside, and that first thrust _home_ makes Rei groan, biting at Shu’s shoulder as he thrusts up into him, dragging Shu down onto his cock. “You…nnh…are the most _perfect_ creature,” Rei pants, mouth red from Shu’s blood as his head falls back for a moment, hips rolling up until there’s nowhere else for his cock to go.

 

Words—his beautiful creations, his ultimate power—fail Shu. It’s been too long (it hasn’t been long, but that’s _too long_ \--) since Rei was inside of him, and Shu lets out a gurgle, head tipping forward when Rei slides into him so _perfectly_. “It’s…there’s not room,” he breathes dazedly, resting a hand on his own flat belly, imagining he can feel Rei moving inside. “Nnh, make a space for yourself, my Lord, it’s all…my body, for your pleasure, fill me with you until I don’t remember who I was before…”

 

“There’s room.” Rei’s words are firm as his fingers grip Shu’s hips, squeezing hard, hard enough to leave imprints of where Shu is held when he thrusts up, the oil making it easier for his thick cock to sink inside, deeper with each rock of his hips. He throbs inside that slick, tight body, a breathless curse leaving his lips at that overwhelming heat around his cock. “There’s always—nnhh—room, for me—fuck, you make me want to _keep you here_ ,” Rei hisses, squeezing Shu around the waist as he grinds up, all the better to drag Shu down into his rhythm. “On my cock, where you belong, until all you can do is make those _cute_ little sounds—“

 

“P- _please_!” Shu’s voice is a keen, his breath hiccupping when all he can do is take and enjoy, when all he can do is submit to Rei’s will to Rei’s hands, to Rei’s cock stuffing and stretching and _filling_ him. “I, nnh, I don’t belong anywhere…else…this is the only—“

 

His breath hitches, and he lets out a high-pitched whine, grabbing at the bedsheets, grabbing at Rei, grabbing at anything he can to make the pressure inside him ease, but all he does is make it throb harder inside him, deeper inside him, _hotter_ inside him.

 

Rei suddenly rolls them, pinning Shu flat onto his back, long legs hiked up and dragged over his shoulders with the ease of someone who has done it a thousand times. His cock sinks in deep, the angle making him exhale a breath through his nose when Shu clenches around his cock. “I’m going to take you like this, the moment we arrive in the Shadowlands, on the doorstep of my castle,” he breathes, his eyes lidded as he grinds in slowly, “in front of anyone who will watch. Then they’ll know—that you’re _mine._ ”

 

Shu lets out a cry, his world spinning in more ways than one when he’s suddenly dumped on his back. Like this, it’s even easier to let everything go and just _enjoy_ , to let Rei ravage him, to let Rei do with him whatever he wants, to let Rei take him so deeply that it feels as if nothing else will ever, ever complete him. “Come into me in front of all of them,” he slurs, eyes rolling back in his head when Rei hits that spot inside him that makes him shudder and spill, leaking all over himself, letting Rei fuck his orgasm out with every sweet, incendiary thrust. “Show them…that I’ll have all of you, and your Demon Queen will have _more_.”

 

“You’ll be lucky if I ever take my cock out of you.”

 

Rei’s teeth snap against Shu’s throat again, holding, not biting in, the low possessive rumble that escapes muffled against Shu’s skin. He gives up on finesse, allowing himself to just rut in, fucking Shu through his orgasm, then past that, panting against his throat until his hands clamp vice-tight about Shu’s sides, and he empties himself into Shu with a groan, thrusting through each pulse of his cock to fill him as much as possible. “There,” he mutters, tongue running over his teeth as he tips his head back, sucking in a full breath. “That’s something to prove who owns you.”

 

“I’ll carry it into battle,” Shu says dazedly, eyes glazed over with sweet, somnolent pleasure. “When we’re in the Shadowlands…you’ll need to do it every day. Several times. To make sure they get the message.”

 

“That, my dear,” Rei sighs, slowly lowering Shu’s legs, but not before pressing a reverent kiss to the inside of each thigh, “is most definitely the plan. How do you smell so _good_ , I want to lick you from top to bottom.”

 

“I’m the cleanest person you know,” Shu murmurs, winding his arms around Rei’s neck. “So if you’re going to do it to anyone, it might as well be me.”

 

“You’re _so_ right.” Rei nuzzles up underneath Shu’s chin, mouthing a kiss to one of the numerous bites there. “That was an entirely unnecessary feeding,” he cheerfully says, looking up through his lashes at how the ceiling starts to rustle. “How delightful.”

 

“Unnecessary for you, maybe,” Shu murmurs, stretching languidly. “But it was entirely necessary for me.”

 

“Oh?” Rei shifts, gently separating their bodies before he rolls to the side and props his chin into one hand, watching Shu contemplatively. “You _were_ a little nippy in the Hinterlands.”

 

Shu blushes. “I was…in a mood. You didn’t mind.”

 

“The opposite. I want you to do it again, as much as you like, whenever you like. I was more remarking that you _wanted_ to actually feed.” Rei trails a finger down the front of Shu’s chest. “I could not be more aroused by the concept.”

 

“Something about being up here,” Shu says softly, catching Rei’s hand, then kissing the fingertip. “The longer I’m up here…the hungrier I get.”

 

“Good.” Rei’s mouth twitches up at the corners. “It’s in your blood. You’re descended from at least a dozen sidhe that I can name off the top of my head. The more you breathe in air that comes from the Shadowlands…the hungrier you’ll be.”

 

Shu rolls a pale shoulder. “That should probably bother me.”

 

“I want,” Rei murmurs, slinking closer and nuzzling up into Shu’s neck again, kissing up to his ear, “you to be so hungry that you can’t _help_ but sink your teeth into me, that your magic runs rampant and holds me down to take its fill. As my queen, that’s your right.”

 

“Tell me more of my rights, as your Queen,” Shu murmurs. “I don’t suppose one of them is establishing myself a less gender-specific title?”

 

“You can call yourself whatever you want and enforce it,” Rei says, vaguely amused as his fingers stroke down Shu’s spine. “As someone who would never touch a woman, I wouldn’t mind that. But there will always be those that call you my Demon Queen.”

 

Shu gives him a secret, amused little smile that hardly creases his lips, but dances in his eyes. “Don’t get me wrong. I love it. But…I don’t want anyone thinking you’ll have an heir out of me, and being disappointed.”

 

“I have an heir. And if I want another, I’m sure you’ll have cultivated your fae magic enough by that point to put one in me.”

 

“You really want to have all the fun, hm?”

 

“What, you want to carry it? I was under the assumption you’d die, considering all the blood and guts involved—“

 

“Don’t make decisions for me,” Shu says, shoving vaguely at Rei’s shoulder. “It’s a…a desire. Something biological I’ve been feeling, the last few months. Quite strongly. Ever since Izumi.”

 

“I’m not making decisions. I was just going on the assumption I had of your previous squeamishness, that’s all,” Rei immediately says, holding up his hands placatingly. “If you want to carry it, by all means. I’ll dote on you endlessly and it will be the most beautiful child.”

 

“Of course.” Shu snuggles into Rei’s chest. “It’ll be our child. Our daughter, if I have anything to say about it.”

 

“You’ll have everything to say about it. It’s your magic that has to do the bulk of the work,” Rei says fondly, stroking his fingers through Shu’s hair. “I’m just here to provide the seed.”

 

There’s a hurried knock on the bedroom door before it opens without further warning, giving Rei just enough time to briskly throw his Nightcloak over Shu. “He’s gone,” Mao leads with, looking not only frostbitten, but extremely annoyed. “Hokuto—he’s just gone, out of the blue.”

 

“Airbred,” Rei mutters, sitting up and raking a hand back through his tousled hair. “They’re all the same. Where were you when he disappeared?”

 

“Close to the first pass. It didn’t look like a human could even come close to getting through in this weather—the snow was far too high. I turned back to say as much, and he was gone.”

 

“Then he’s gotten to work. He was Wataru’s protege, I know he’s skilled.” Rei rolls away, tying his hair back. “I’ll tell Kaoru he needs to move, sooner rather than later.”

 

“And we wait?” Shu asks, sitting up and pulling his cloak over himself. “Can’t we help in any way?”

 

“We’ll follow Kaoru out there as backup, of course.” Rei offers Shu a wry smile as he refastens his laces. “Believe me—I’m as eager as you to slaughter them. That drude dying just _has_ to happen first…and according to you, I should wait to hear Izumi’s decision before I cut Eichi’s throat.”

 

“Yes, you should. How would you like it if someone cut your throat without asking Mika’s permission first?”

 

Rei gives him a quizzical look. “Is that…the same? I feel like it’s different. The three of us actually coexist peacefully, happily, and healthily.”

 

“Hm.” Shu frowns, thinking that over as he stands, putting himself back together. “No, I’m still right. But best say, what if someone slit my throat without asking Ritsu’s permission? No, that’s not quite right either. It’s still polite.”

 

“So you say.” Rei gives an amused shake of his head before hauls himself to his feet with a stretch, then bends to tug his boots back into place. “Mao, go take a rest.”

 

Mao, vibrating a little too-intensely, even for him, nods, takes a step, and then hits the floor in a heap.

 

“I might have been using him a bit too harshly,” Rei says with a grimace, striding over to gently scoop him off of the floor. “Shu, grab a clean blanket from the corner, would you? I’m putting this child to bed.”

 

Shu swiftly changes the blanket with the skill of someone who loves textiles more than he loves nearly all human beings, and helps ease Mao down onto it. “You’re spilling, love,” he murmurs, and reaches his fingers up to Rei’s temple, containing some of the wild, overeager magic.

 

Rei shivers, shutting his eyes as he feels his magic relax and withdraw, coiling up underneath Shu’s touch. “So I am,” he murmurs. “Thank you. It will be nice, I think, once things like that don’t matter.”

 

“It’s fine. Your magic loves me,” Shu says with a smile, nuzzling into Rei’s neck. “Like my pretty pet snake.”

 

“Ooh. Tell me more about how I’m a pretty pet,” Rei teases, catching Shu’s face in his hands to kiss him soundly before releasing him and tossing an extra blanket over Mao for good measure before tucking him in. “Now. Let’s set things into motion, shall we? I’ve had enough of this.”

 


	42. Chapter 42

 

Even now, true, deep sleep evades Natsume, which is _honestly_ a cruel joke. Fuck the gods, actually.

 

The room he’s left in is cold and dark, snow piling up so high outside that he’s fairly certain he can see it creeping close to the window. He watches that for awhile, the briskly whirling snowflakes enough to put him half in a trance as he fiddles with the heavy weight of dark magic binding his wrists and legs, hissing at it when burns and sparks against his flesh.

 

That one. That _stupid_ one. That one he dislikes disproportionately, perhaps, because if Natsume is sick of one thing more than anything else, it’s his magic being tied down and restrained. 

 

After awhile, he gives it a rest, his mind fogging up at the edges when visions constantly want to slither in, but find themselves muddled or stopped entirely. Finally, frustrated, sore, and exhausted, he allows his eyes to shut against the constant visual of falling snow outside, and _tries_ to sleep.

 

His eyes snap open not to the dusty, cold little room, but to…well, ‘where’ is quite a question. It _looks_ like some odd mash-up of Redwater and High Harbor, as if the creator of the vision couldn’t quite remember either to the fullest, or didn’t have the time to nitpick.

 

Most importantly, his head isn’t killing him here, and his arms and legs are freed. Stumbling a bit as he rights himself, Natsume peers around, rubbing absently at one wrist and contemplating how he’s so warm in a _dream_. Well—no use complaining, if this is the result of attempting to meditate via snowfall.

 

“I’m so sorry, Kitten.”

 

The voice speaks with no echo, like a footprint that doesn’t sink into the snow.

 

Wataru sits, much as he had up in the Academy’s tower, his back bleeding into a pool at his feet, one knee tucked up to his chest, hair spilling down and swirling through his own blood, free of its customary braids. His face is shadowed, sorrowful, and he isn’t meeting Natsume’s eyes. “I’m so, so, sorry.”

 

Natsume’s movements freeze, and tension immediately sweeps through him from head to toe. He barely even dares to breathe, but what he does do is take a step back, only noticing then that the water lapping at the shore doesn’t make a single sound, nor does it soak through the hem of his skirts. “…Wataru?” he whispers, hardly daring to believe this is the _real thing._

 

“What’s left of me.” Wataru flutters a long-fingered hand. “This worthless creature will cease to be entirely, soon. Which is good! Time for you to blossom, and grow, and rise from your shell like the magnificent dragon you were always meant to be.” He flutters that hand across his face, wiping away tears. “I thought you were dead. I…saw no reason to go on living. The more fool, me! I should have trusted you, always.”

 

Natsume wavers, but only for a moment more before that stupid, self-depreciating bullshit gets on his nerves like it always has, and he knows, _knows_ it’s Wataru, the _real one_. He balls his hands into fists at his sides as he stalks forward. “Yes! Yes, you should have! You’re so _stupid_ , you—you _never_ trusted me!” He hates it, but his voice cracks, wet and angry. “Not even once! You never trusted me to fix anything, you never trusted me to handle even a glimpse of your magic, and you never trusted me to _stay_ with you!” His voice cracks again, this time more frustrated than angry, and he furiously wipes a hand across his eyes. “I’m so _mad_ at you.”

 

“As you should be.” Wataru glitters, his edges blurring, as if Natsume’s the one with tears spilling down his face. “But this isn’t about me wanting to make amends, as much as I’d love you to destroy me. I don’t have much time left. You trust me, as I never did—you’re right, and I was wrong.”

 

He stands, unfurling his long body, extending a hand. “Come with me. I’ll get you out of here.”

 

Natsume’s lower lip wobbles before he bites it, hard, hard enough to draw blood in this version of himself as much as his real self, he’s sure. “I’m not going to forgive you,” he whispers, even as he reaches out with a trembling hand. “The least you could’ve done is wait to leave when I’d done something wrong.”

 

It’s all well and good to say that, but then his hand lands in Wataru’s, and it’s warm.

 

He bursts into tears, clamping his other hand over his mouth to muffle the sob that escapes.

 

“But Kitten…you’ve never done anything wrong. Ah, forgive me.”

 

Wataru breaks a promise to himself, and folds Natsume in his arms, clutching him tightly, bent over to squeeze him as tightly as he can, Natsume’s bones creaking with the pressure. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t want to leave you, I thought you were gone, I couldn’t imagine living without you—“ His voice is broken, near-frantic, face buried in Natsume’s hair.

 

Natsume’s arms immediately fling themselves around Wataru’s neck, fingers fisting into Wataru’s hair as tightly as he’s ever held onto something. “I t-t-thought you hated me,” he whimpers, finally letting himself completely crumble, his entire body shaking from the force of each sob that escapes. “I thought you _hated me_ , and t-that’s why—all of my visions, they showed you…w-with Eichi…and I c-couldn’t even blame you, you thought I looked away, you thought I had left you…”

 

“No, no, no, Kitten, no,” Wataru breathes into Natsume’s hair, lifting him off the ground as if he weighs nothing at all, the calm strength of his limbs overwhelming. “He stole my form, that’s all. He knew…” Tears splash onto Natsume’s head. “He knew you were too good, and always loved me too much.”

 

Natsume’s chest heaves, and he huddles up into Wataru’s chest, face pressed down into the handfuls of hair that he pulls forward, uncaring that they’re soaked and bloody. “I want to go home,” he says, his voice very quiet. “Wataru, I don’t want to do this.” His breath escapes shakily. “I’m going to. But I really, really don’t want to.”

 

“I’ve never regretted leaving a form before,” Wataru whispers. “But when I saw you alive, through my new eyes…I regret, I regret, ah, ye gods of old!”

 

He swallows, then bursts into a dizzying, brilliant smile, pulling back to cup Natsume’s face in his hands. “Love him fiercely, Kitten. Tell him honestly that your heart burns for him. And know that I will always, always be watching, and loving you.”

 

Natsume’s breath catches on an exhausted, wet laugh. “I’ll try,” he whispers, his head dropping into Wataru’s hands, eyes briefly squeezing shut. “Ah, gods, I’m tired. I hadn’t realized…how much I missed sleep, until I could again…”

 

“Give me your bad dreams, then.” Wataru lets his hands drift up, holding Natsume’s whole head between them. Coolness filters in, as he eases away some of the pain, some of the exhaustion, some of the hurt. “I can’t take your memories, Kitten. But I can make them…feel older, if you like.”

 

“No. Let me be pissed off.” Natsume’s eyes crack open, flicking up to hold Wataru’s gaze when his headache starts to slink away, bit by bit. “If I’m not angry, no one listens to me. You were the same way.”

 

“Yes.” Wataru presses a kiss to Natsume’s forehead. “You can talk aloud to me, if you like. I will hear it, even if I’m not…the person you knew. Ah, my time grows short—what a phrase! Something that shrinks as it grows! My love, I entrust you to my worst protege, he won’t fail me in this, he’ll take you back to those that love you. Tell them not to grieve too long, it was my own foolishness that took me from them.”

 

Natsume nods, briefly squeezing his eyes shut again when hot tears flood them. “Even now you make me so _angry_ ,” he whispers, swallowing hard as he butts his face into Wataru’s hands one more time before he forcibly takes a step back. “You’re the worst. I love you, and you’re the worst.”

 

There’s a sharp pain in his wrists, and Natsume jerks back, glancing down, seeing the glowering glittering rings of Hiyori’s magic wrapped around them once more. Reflex rather than good sense makes him reach out, one last time, wanting to sink his fingers into Wataru’s hair and just _go with him_ —

 

His eyes fly open, and the handful of hair his hands fist into is jet black, so dark it shines nearly blue in the moonlight pouring into the room.

 

Hokuto holds a finger to his lips. _Don’t make a sound. Hold out your hands._

 

Natsume draws in a shaky breath as he does what he’s told, the voice echoing in his brain so _like_ Wataru’s, but not. The flash of a slender sword makes him nearly flinch back, but he forces himself to remain still, even though the tip of it nearly slices down the front of his chest in its course to cut directly between his wrists. Hiyori’s magic flutters away as if it literally has been dissolved, and his ankles follow in quick succession.

 

Hokuto jerks his head towards the open window as he offers Natsume his hand, which Natsume takes, no matter how the tingling rush of feeling back into his hands and feet makes him want to scream and kick something, no matter how that hand is cold and he wants to bolt away. _When we get out—run._

 

Natsume nods, and accepts the boost up and out of the window, toppling down into the snow with little grace. He grits his teeth against the shock of cold, hauling himself up to his feet, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure Hokuto is following before doing exactly as he’s told.

 

It’s easier said than done to run in waist-high snow, but Natsume has never, _ever_ wanted to be away from a place more. He darts forward, biting into an old cut on his wrist to draw blood for his first casting that brings magic to flare at his feet, carving the path far more easily for him.

 

“Oi! Get back here, you little shit!”

 

A strong, tanned hand reaches out, grabbing him by the arm, and Natsume hisses like an angry cat, wrenching himself backwards at the expense of his sleeve, and reflexively, he grabs for the dagger yet taken from him on his thigh. Stinging pain blossoms across his arm as he slices in, and the brilliant flare of blood turning bright green from his casting of pure, high-intensity wizard’s fire blocks Jun from diving forwards after him again.

 

It’s enough time for Hokuto to catch up to him and grab him by the other arm to drag him forward. “Good job,” he says, before taking off at a dead run again.

 

Natsume’s lungs burn a hole through his chest, his hands shaking by the time Hokuto’s pace slows, arms carelessly dripping blood from the repeated castings of wards after every fifty feet or so just to _make sure_ if they’re being chased, there are enough walls of teaming, vicious fire to not make it worth it. His knees buckle, and Hokuto’s arm catches him around the waist, keeping him on his feet. “Easy—easy, you’re fine, kid, take a breath, a real one,” Hokuto murmurs, staring up at the enormous pass as snow continues to fall, albeit more slowly. “I’ve got you.”

 

Kaoru doesn’t waste time with words.

 

Huddled by the fire one second, leaping to his feet with his sword in his hand the second, he dashes out the door so quickly he doesn’t remember how he’d opened it, streaking through the snow like a flash of light, faster than he’d ever thought he could run. Only a few minutes after he’d started running does his mind catch up—

 

_I can feel him again._

 

Kaoru feels like shouting for joy, and his steps have a spring in them, carrying him fast over the snowy peaks, dashing, twisting around rocks and rubble, until his lungs ache and his legs ache and his eyes ache from the cold, until he can see the looming pass ahead. _Natsume! I’m here! I’m coming!_

 

Natsume’s head snaps up, and he jerks out of Hokuto’s hold so quickly that he nearly falls in the snow. Ignoring Hokuto’s snap of protest to be careful or _something_ , he bolts forward, more or less nothing but a red streak in the snow as he claws his way through the pass, ignoring how narrow it really is and how his boots slip off the side precariously more than once.

 

He collides straight into a warm, familiar body, vision not entirely focusing to process _who_ until his arms wrap so tightly around Kaoru that he hears his shoulders pop. His chest heaves, his face burning from the cold as he stuffs it into Kaoru’s chest, words and thoughts failing him all at once.

 

Kaoru grabs Natsume so hard he lifts him off the ground and spins him, letting out a stupid little choked sound. “Thank the gods, thank the gods,” he groans, eyes squeezed shut, arms trembling, his body achingly hot. “Are you all right? Why did you leave? I could kill you, I could kiss you!”

 

“I j-just wanted to go _meditate_ , damn it,” Natsume bemoans, clinging hard to Kaoru’s neck, leaving streaks of fresh blood all over his hair and cloak. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“

 

It’s Hokuto that breaks them up as he catches up, shoving them both forward. “Keep running,” he snaps. “The pass is theirs. Don’t stop on it, get past it, _then_ you can be like this!”

 

Kaoru huffs, and sets Natsume down, grabbing him by the hand. “Ready to run? Race you back to safety.”

 

“You’re stupid,” Natsume heatedly says before bolting off, skirts in one hand, Kaoru’s hand in the other.

 

Where that extra burst of energy came from is anyone’s guess, considering that by the time they clear the other side of the pass, breathing seems like an impossible task. He stumbles over a rock buried in the snow, curses up a storm, and lights a tree on fire out of spite. “Fuck you!” he snarls back towards the pass, whipping back around to glare through it, as if there’s someone actually there. “I hope you all fucking burn in hell! Ow, ow, ow, that stings like a _bitch_ ,” Natsume hisses as half-frozen sweat runs down his arms and into his open cuts.

 

Hokuto bends forward over his knees, chest heaving, his hair swinging forward over his shoulders. “Somehow, that worked,” he wheezes, staring up at the sky. “If you call me a failure now, Master, I swear to the gods…”

 

Somewhere in the darkness, a bird chirps rather cheerfully.

 

Kaoru draws to a pause, then scoops Natsume up in his arms, holding him tight as they cross the last stretch of land. “We’re going to get you patched up,” he promises. “And then we’re going to kill every last one of them.”

 

Natsume’s chest heaves for a tense moment more, all protests to be _put down, leave me alone, I’m fine_ stuck on his tongue. Then, he just slumps down, trembling and exhausted, wrapping his arms right back around Kaoru’s neck as he huddles up against him. “I,” he slowly grinds out, “am going to light every man on fire. Except _you_. You can stay.”

 

“Even me, huh,” Hokuto deadpans, sparing another, wary glance back over his shoulder before walking forward.

 

“Maybe not you.” Natsume’s eyes flutter before falling shut, allowing himself that luxury when he’s wrapped up in Kaoru’s arms, warm and safe. “But only because Wataru said you were useless, anyway.”

 

“I wouldn’t mind being lit on fire right now,” Kaoru says with a sigh, squeezing Natsume tight as he strides up to the little outpost. “It’s bloody fucking cold, and I’d deserve it for not watching after you, anyway. I can’t believe I didn’t notice—what good is the fucking bond if it doesn’t let me go to you when you’re in trouble? Honestly!”

 

“It was the will of the gods. It had nothing to do with our bond.” Natsume exhales a long, shaky breath, his eyes cracking open again, unable to remain shut for long. “All of this would’ve happened with or without it. I don’t need a babysitter, Kaoru. I’m fine.”

 

“You don’t have a babysitter, you have a fucking annoyed and upset paladin that loves you!” Kaoru snaps. “So put up with it!”

 

Natsume flinches, then releases Kaoru’s neck with great effort, squirming his way out of his arms. “Right now,” he says shakily as he briefly turns to face him, “I don’t want to hear about putting up with anything. From _anyone._ ”

 

With that, he spins on his heel, head down against the snow as he stomps forward by himself.

 

Kaoru stares after him for a moment, then calls, “I’m sorry! I didn’t…I won’t do it again.”

 

Natsume’s shoulders are tense as he comes to a stop, then slowly turns his head, his stare sharp. “One more word of blaming someone,” he flatly says. “One more. Whether it’s yourself, it’s me, it’s Lord Rei, anyone _except_ Eichi, or the gods. And I’m _done_. Got it?”

 

Kaoru blinks. “Oh. All right. I—yeah, all right.” Kaoru holds up his hands. “I don’t get a say in this nearly as much as you do. If that’s how you want it, that’s how it is.”

 

“And if you tell me I have to tolerate a certain amount of affection again, I’m going to scream directly into your ear.” Natsume’s lower lip trembles. “So just—just stop telling me what to do and blaming things and people and cuddle me properly already.”

 

Kaoru winces. “You’re right. You’re totally, totally right.”

 

He steps forward, a little more hesitantly than the first time, and wraps his arms around Natsume, exhaling deeply, still sort of expecting him to go off like a bomb. “My reactions…aren’t correct right now. But I’ll do better.”

 

Natsume exhales a wet huff into Kaoru’s shoulders before his arms slide back around them, and he stuffs his face down into his chest firmly. “Thank you,” comes his quiet, relieved reply. “Sorry for snapping. I’m really…really glad to see you, I’m just—so tired, and I want a bath _so_ badly, and did I mention I’m tired…”

 

His legs buckle as he literally trails off mid-sentence, almost falling asleep in place before he jerks himself back awake.

 

“The wizard’s outpost is just up ahead,” Hokuto softly interjects, pointing to the little rundown tower in the middle of an otherwise empty, snowy field. “Shall we? Just to collect ourselves, until we head back to Lord Rei.”

 

“It probably has running water,” Natsume says with a laugh. “It’s the first thing _any_ wizard builds into a tower.”

 

“Mm, not quite all wizards. The first thing Rei always puts in is a kennel.” Kaoru grins, and wraps an arm around Natsume, steering him towards the crumbling tower. Two steps before entering, something catches at the corner of his senses, and he freezes. He holds up a hand, head slowly turning until he sees what he’d thought he’d seen—a single ward, glittering white at the corner of the doorframe. _Paladins_ , he thinks at Natsume. _Pass it on to him._

 

Natsume hesitates, sliding his gaze over to Hokuto, who looks no less on alert than Kaoru, hand on the sword at his hip. _Something tells me he’s pretty aware, too, Kaoru._

 

All the same, Natsume shifts a step closer in the crunchy snow, flicking a bit of dried blood at the door until the entire construct flickers to life underneath his gaze, all in blazing purple and blue and brilliant pink. He blinks a few times, the light reflecting back over the gold of his eyes as he stares all the way up the tower, then down again to the door. _A wizard, too, still. Nooncloak at best._

 

 _Can you disable the wizard? I can take care of the paladin._ Kaoru hopes he’s not wrong. The ward he can see is skilled, if simple, and lest he forget, as he tells Rei constantly, he is an extremely _lapsed_ paladin.

 

 _Yes. Absolutely. I have to be the one to open the door, though. It will only activate for wizards._ Natsume glances back to Hokuto. _A paladin and a wizard. You following?_

 

_Consider me following and capable, regardless of Wataru said._

 

Natsume exhales a breath, looks up to Kaoru one more time, then reaches forward, placing his hand upon the door. Immediately, every lock turns, the runes on the door glowing bright blue, then green before it clicks open.

 

The second he does, Kaoru’s hand flashes, tracing a complex pattern above the white rune, rendering it useless with a flash. It’s an inactive construct, like almost everything the paladins do—once they create a ward, they never feel it, never sense what’s happened to it.

 

But perhaps the wizard is more alert, because two figures move in the darkness the second the door opens, and Kaoru moves without thinking, his hand flying in front of Natsume’s neck, deflecting a well-thrown knife with the back of his hand, catching a long gash in the skin for his trouble. “Bitch,” he curses, and reaches for his sword with his other hand, letting white light fill the room.

 

At the sight of the light, one of the dark figures pauses, holding up a hand in almost a mirror image of the way Kaoru had a moment before. “Halt,” the dark-haired young man calls, eyes flashing. “Who are you?”

 

Natsume’s chest heaves as he cranes his neck around Kaoru, green fire laced through his fingers, radiating an unnatural amount of heat. “Wait.” His eyes narrow to slits. “Yuzuru?”

 

There’s a noise that sounds suspiciously like fluttering wings that makes Natsume’s head temporarily whip back, only to find Hokuto gone. He almost irritably remarks on it—useless, indeed—before a glint in the darkness behind Yuzuru, caused by his own fire reflecting off of another blade, makes it clear where Hokuto suddenly is. “And the previous Emperor’s pet, no doubt,” Hokuto lowly says, hand on his own sword still.

 

“Previous Emperor,” Yuzuru repeats, the words soft, mocking as he stands perfectly still, raising his hands, both of which still hold glittering steel. “You think you know best about what’s right for the world? He’s been our god for over a millennia. I’d be proud to be his defender.”

 

“Your _god_ is little more than a liar and a murderer,” Natsume snaps, shoving past Kaoru. “You’re still an Enhanced of the Academy, aren’t you? Your allegiance was sworn to the Emperor Rei, not that cursed thing that he sent back to the Depths! Tori, you, too!”

 

“My alliance was always given freely to the god of my clan,” Yuzuru says evenly, not moving a muscle. “And I will do as he commands me and slay the drude. And if you stand in my way, I will cut you down as easily as—“

 

“Hold on a second,” Kaoru interrupts, frowning. “Did you just say…kill the drude?”

 

Natsume stiffens, his jaw set in a tense, hard line. “He wants you to kill it?” he flatly asks. “Those were his actual words?”

 

Yuzuru gives him a withering look, but only answers simply, “Yes.”

 

Natsume opens his mouth to say more, but the sudden opening of a door at the top of the spiral staircase draws his abrupt attention. “Ahh…the sun isn’t even out yet,” comes a sickeningly familiar voice complaining, complete with a yawn. “And there’s still a bird out there chirping away. Yuzuru, you’re about to leave soon, aren’t y…”

 

Eichi pauses where he leans over the bannister, hair undone and cloak half-tied, his eyes quickly sharpening from the half-lidded repose of sleep. “Oho. Company.”

 

The click of Natsume’s heels don’t quite make it to his own ears—at least, the first two, non-running steps don’t before he launches himself forward, taking the stairs nearly five at a time, a handful of wizard’s fire in each palm when he doesn’t possess the coherent thought though the flare of his anger to actually cast a _real_ spell. Eichi’s answer is far more succinct in the form of an instantaneous wall of darkfire at his feet, the sheer heat of it when it flares up enough to make Natsume stumble back several steps, catching himself on the bannister. “Watch yourself, witch,” Eichi quietly warns, unmoving from where he stands. “This is _my_ tower.”

 

“Natsume,” Hokuto hastily attempts, diving after him and grabbing the back of his corset to haul him back. “Lord Rei _specifically_ instructed—“

 

“I don’t give a shit what Lord Rei says!” Natsume snarls, ripping out of Hokuto’s hold, teeth bared as his eyes gleam, clearly trying to See a way past magic that automatically repels his own. “I’m done! I’m going to kill this piece of shit, once and for all!”

 

Eichi ignores him and peers down at Kaoru, leaning over the railing, chin in hand. “Hello, Kaoru. I didn’t expect _you_ here. I thought you’d gotten yourself royally fucked over this time.”

 

“If it helps, I certainly feel royally fucked over,” Kaoru drawls, telling himself that under no circumstances, for no reason whatsoever, will he look at Natsume, will he make it obvious he cares about Natsume, will he even gesture, will he even _think_ towards Natsume. He sheathes his sword—not like it’ll do him much good here—and turns to face Eichi. “Truce of parley?”

 

Eichi smiles, and there’s no denying the smugness in that expression. “Make your wizards heel first.”

 

Hokuto shoots him a dark look, which Eichi doesn’t even bother acknowledging.

 

“I’m not their commander. Stop trying to disrupt it before it begins. Or I’ll have my wizard here,” he says with a nod to Hokuto, “disembowel your pet before you can make a move. Agree to the parley. I know those on _my_ side will honor it.”

 

Hokuto takes a step back from Natsume, fingers drumming on the hilt of his blade. Eichi rolls his eyes and straightens up from where he stands. “You’re not their commander, yet you’ll have your wizard do as you say? Let’s try this again. Tell your hellcat to put his magic up, or we can have a good, old-fashioned skirmish right here.”

 

“Natsume,” Hokuto lowly implores again, one eye still on him.

 

Natsume looks all the world as if he’s about to explode, or perhaps pull a bomb out from underneath his skirts and launch it at Eichi’s face. He grits his teeth, lowering his hands back to his sides as the lingering crackle of magic flickers between his fingers for a moment more. “Call me _one_ more name—“

 

“Are all dragons so temperamental? Madara’s no better,” Eichi complains, a snap of his fingers dispelling the darkfire that has begun heating the tower far, _far_ too quickly. He takes a step down from the landing, then pauses, eyebrows raised, waiting for Natsume to back off the stairs entirely before he continues.

 

It takes a moment—a very, very tense moment—before Natsume finally, angrily, hackles raised, takes two steps back to the ground floor.

 

“So, Kaoru,” Eichi sweetly begins again, starting down the stairs and fixing his cloak as he walks. “What brings you here?”

 

Kaoru stares at Eichi for a long while, emotions warring in him to be foremost. Keeping his calm, affected posture is one of the hardest things he’s done, but losing his cool only helps monsters like Eichi. He’s learned that, long ago. “Out for an evening walk,” he says, rolling one shoulder. “Came upon the wizard there—Rei likes him. I heard there was a drude in town, so, naturally, I’m on my way to kill it.”

 

“ _You_ , kill a drude?” Tori’s high-pitched voice is an incredulous scoff. “You’re hardly a paladin at _all_ , what makes you think you can do something like that? Piece of shit!”

 

“Oh, it didn’t take long for you to forget what you owe those that spared you,” Kaoru remarks. “Kind of cute.”

 

“No,” Hokuto quietly warns underneath his breath before Natsume nearly sets Tori on fire, swinging an arm out in front of him just in case.

 

“Naturally,” Eichi echoes, his head cocked. “Hmmm. Last I heard, you were giving up the paladin lifestyle. Did that change? Tori’s being a bit rude, but…he’s not entirely wrong.”

 

His bare feet step down onto the marble floor. “You’re not much of a paladin these days.”

 

Kaoru looks up, and meets Eichi’s weird, unsettling eyes. “I liked you,” he remarks, almost wistful. “I told Izumi he should get to know you. Befriend you. Imagine how that makes me feel now.”

 

“The same as always, I imagine,” Eichi softly says, a smile on his lips. “Our goals seem similar. I, too, want that drude dead. I even brought my own personal paladin escort out of retirement just for the task.”

 

Kaoru looks at Yuzuru, and scoffs. “A Hilbrandt? You say _I’m_ not much of a paladin these days, but you’re willing to rely on him?” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “You’ve got your head too far up your self-worshipping ass, Eichi.”

 

“Eh…you’re so rude,” Eichi complains, fluttering a hand. “I thoroughly appreciate every paladin clan. But you know, I will say—retirement aside, at least Yuzuru here hasn’t been running around with demons for years,” he sighs, glancing off contemplatively. “To the point of having children with them. Unlike _someone_ I’m talking to at this very moment.”

 

“All right.” Kaoru shrugs a shoulder, unconcerned. “Then we’ll go back to our camp, and you go back to yours, and have fun seeing if Yuzuru makes it out alive. You know best, of course. Not that I undid his ward with a single flick of my thumb or anything.”

 

“It’s never about what other paladins can do to other paladins, and you know that.”

 

“And I should trust your advice on drudes?” Kaoru asks, as casually as he can manage.

 

There’s a pause before Eichi’s lips curve back into a smile. “I think I’d know better than anyone in this room, except…well. No, I suppose that’s not _quite_ the same—“

 

“ _No_ ,” Hokuto firmly repeats, sword swinging out to block Natsume this time, and even that he nearly lurches around before Hokuto catches him around the waist. “He is well-fed, in _his_ tower, and you are _not_ ,” Hokuto lowly hisses in his ear. “Later.”

 

Natsume’s chest heaves from the effort it takes to listen and _process_ Hokuto’s words before he rocks back onto his heels again, realizing belatedly that he has actually grabbed Hokuto’s sword with his bare hand. Blood drips down from his palm to the floor, and he glances down to watch it for a moment, lightheaded, and realizes his blood is dripping into the melted, charred remains of—

 

“Ah. There he goes. Nightcloaks. Delicate little things,” Eichi mildly remarks as Natsume’s eyes roll back, and he nearly hits the floor in an unconscious heap before Hokuto scrambles to catch him. “This is why I prefer Nooncloaks, personally. Far sturdier. Sorry, we were saying?”

 

Kaoru had thought that holding his tongue at first was the most difficult thing he’d done. Not going to Natsume’s side now is almost as difficult. “We were saying,” he says, one eyebrow raised, “that you pet there doesn’t have what it takes to kill a drude. Why don’t you do it? I know Sorrow’s Heart is here.”

 

Finally, that makes a muscle in Eichi’s jaw twitch in irritation. “Someone’s been sharing with you a bit, haven’t they?”

 

Kaoru smirks. “Maybe people aren’t quite as aggressive about worshipping you as you think. Worship gets boring after a while.”

 

“If you’re trying to charm answers out of me, it isn’t working, even as pretty as you are.”

 

“Eichi,” Kaoru says quietly, “everyone already has their answers. They’ve chosen sides. I don’t think even the king thinks you can be saved now.”

 

“And yet,” Eichi mildly points out, “you’re talking to me now. So you must think there’s something to gain.”

 

“Eh…I’m making an offer.” It twists his mouth to do it. “You want the drude dead. I want the drude dead. I doubt your ‘paladin’ can kill him alone, you don’t think I could do it alone. Please tell me you’re following.”

 

“Insult me one more time.” Eichi’s voice goes cold in an instant. “You can’t kill the drude alone. Not this drude. Yuzuru has my blessing, so his chances are higher. And if you want more information than that, then we’re going to get into real negotiations that aren’t just me being generous.”

 

Kaoru holds up a hand. “Fair enough, I overstepped. Good luck to the Hilbrandt then. Come on, Hokuto, bring the prophet.”

 

“Send Shu over.”

 

Eichi smiles again, as he drifts over to Tori, ruffling his hair fondly. “I’ll speak to him about…well, anything, really.”

 

Hokuto heaves Natsume up into his arms with some effort, having to take a moment to readjust his own perception of how much he actually weighs. “Enjoy the bird, Excellency,” he idly offers up over his shoulder.

 

Once the door closes behind him, Kaoru lifts Natsume out of Hokuto’s arms without a word. Another hand signal urges silence, and Kaoru doesn’t speak, jaw clenched in a rictus of anger, until they’re safely back at Rei’s door. “Rei,” Kaoru says quietly, knowing Rei will hear him, “let me in.”

 

The wards click open almost audibly, even to a paladin’s ears. The illusion of empty, snowy landscape dissolves, revealing the tiny cottage that Rei has made his own. The front door swings open and remains that way, held that way by Rei’s hand. “What can I do?” he simply asks.

 

“Kanata,” Kaoru says immediately, muscles straining under Natsume’s dragon weight. “I don’t…I don’t even know how to help a Skybred, do you keep them warm or cool?”

 

“Warm. Here, let me take him,” Rei urges, offering up his arms. “I know he’s heavy. At least to get him into bed, then you can have him back. Shu,” he calls over his shoulder. “Stoke the fire, please? No cheating, real fire or it doesn’t count.”

 

“I’m here…” Kanata rolls away from the fire himself, the pile of furs he’d been buried underneath long-since dry.

 

Kaoru hands over his precious bundle without hesitation, his legs finally wobbling, then giving out completely under him. “Unfh,” he says eloquently, knees hitting the floor. “That was a lot. Take good care of him, Rei.”

 

“Of course we will,” Shu says firmly, grabbing the bellows and stoking the fire up as high as it will safely go, adding wood intermittently.

 

Rei takes Natsume from Kaoru’s arms as if he’s as light as a feather, briskly walking him over to the furs to lay him down. “That’s far more bloodcasting than I’d like to see from you, little cat,” he murmurs, smoothing Natsume’s hair from his face as he examines the bloodiest arm for the extent of his injuries. “Kanata, tell me you can sleep him properly, at least for a little while.”

 

“I’ll try,” Kanata softly says, dropping down next to him. “Natsume…has always been difficult.”

 

“Let’s give it a try, all the same.”

 

“Here, Lord Kaoru,” Hokuto quietly says, offering Kaoru his hand. “Up with you, and away from the door. You need to get warmed up, too.”

 

Kaoru grunts, and fumbles after Hokuto’s hand. “Rei,” he says, voice shaky, “when you’ve got him comfortable…we learned some…can I lay with him? Is that going to get in the way of anything?”

 

“No. Just wait a few minutes, love, let Kanata work,” Rei gently, but dismissively says, hyper-focused on the task at hand. “Shu, that’s good enough for the fire, thank you. Can you come here and work on getting him out of this corset? If he wakes up, I think he’d be happiest seeing you doing that. Koga,” he briskly calls, climbing to his feet in another breath, striding off towards the window. “Drag the extra water over here so it can warm by the fire.”

 

“That’s it, there you go,” Hokuto grunts, dragging Kaoru to his feet and letting him brace against him as he helps him over closer to Natsume, but out of the range of Kanata’s magic, which swiftly unfurls as curling blue tendrils, winding its way around Natsume as Kanata absently pets his hair.

 

Natsume stirs, for the briefest of moments. “No, no, no, not yet,” Kanata quietly hums, placing a hand over his eyes. “Just sleeeep. Kaoru…” His eyes flick up, the bright green of them lit from behind. “Don’t touch him. Not when my magic is active. You know…that it doesn’t get along with you…”

 

Kaoru bites his lip, and looks away. “Yeah. I know. Don’t spell him to sleep yet, if you can help it. He wants to help. I don’t have the right to tell him not to.”

 

“Of course you do,” Shu says curtly. “You’re his bonded. Sit quietly and tell Rei what you’ve learned.”

 

“Rei, please.”

 

Rei hauls the sizable tub of water in through the window, dropping it down in front of the fire without spilling a drop. “Kaoru, he _needs_ to sleep,” he gently says, dropping back down onto the floor next to Kaoru. “Even if it’s just for a couple of hours. His magic is fraying from overuse, and he’s so exhausted that even if he tried to help right now, I imagine the spells would be more dangerous to him than to an enemy. He’s not going to want to listen to that, so sleeping him is the kindest way of telling him no. Do you understand?”

 

Kaoru slumps down against the wall, and nods wearily. “Yeah. Go ahead. Sorry. I’m…” He wipes a hand over his face. “Go ahead.”

 

It’s a few more moments of quiet murmuring, water warming and sloshing, and careful nitpicking and fretting before Rei turns away from where Shu and Kanata continue to hover. “He’s actually sleeping, that’s good,” Rei reassuringly says, giving Kaoru’s head a gentle pet. “Kanata’s magic is pulling back now, so you can come over and touch him. You’ll feel better. When you do, tell me what you’ve found out.”

 

“Tori and Yuzuru are here,” Kaoru says, with the kind of dull repetition that he’s used to. Both of them have been around too long to make an hour’s tale of information when every second counts in war. “They’re working for Eichi. Eichi wants the drude dead, is sending Yuzuru to do it—he’s a paladin, or what’s left of one.”

 

Rei’s eyes narrow. “A friend of yours?” he asks after a moment’s pause. “Or the kind that would love to lock you away? How useful is he, compared to you?”

 

“No idea,” Kaoru says frankly. “Probably not very, but if he trained hard and kept the covenants in his heart…it’s possible he could pull it off. And no, not a friend. His family is the one that locked me up.”

 

“Delightful.” Rei glances away, chewing thoughtfully at his lower lip. “Did Yuzuru just happen to volunteer this information to you?” he finally asks. “I’m guessing no.”

 

Kaoru’s smile is brittle. “I talked to Eichi.”

 

Rei’s expression doesn’t change. “I see. Where?”

 

“In the outpost,” Hokuto supplies, breaking his own silence. “Resting there like he doesn’t have a care in the world.”

 

“Lovely.” Rei exhales slowly, glancing back over to Natsume, then back to Kaoru and Hokuto. “And did he have anything useful to say about the rest of the situation?”

 

“No—but I will say, the drude wasn’t there went I went to their stronghold,” Hokuto says. “I don’t know if that’s where you were all trying to find it or not.”

 

“Another thing,” Kaoru says, eyes locked on Natsume. “Eichi didn’t say it, but…I find it pretty strange that he couldn’t deal with the drude himself. And he was touchy when I mentioned…ah, that’ll take too much explanation, but he knows I know he was once a paladin. He was weird about his sword.”

 

“He must not have it back still.” Rei leans back, hands resting on his knees. “I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not. If Tsumugi was a drude like you say—he certainly dealt with him succinctly.”

 

“He also was…very aware of me,” Hokuto quietly says. “It’s obvious he’s been well-fed, so that isn’t the issue. It has to be the sword.”

 

Natsume bolts up into a sitting position, hands tightly clenched into the furs underneath him. “Ritsu—he’s—“

 

And then he passes out again, crumpling back down, limp as a rag.

 

“Ow, ow, ow,” Kanata protests on a whimper, a full body shudder going through him as he hastily withdraws his magic. “Natsume, be nice, don’t _break_ my spells…”

 

“No, no, you need to finish that one, love,” Rei pleasantly hums, even though his attention is suddenly razor sharp while he turns back to Natsume, brushing a thumb over his temple. “Upsy daisy, finish that thought.”

 

“Rei, you just said he needs to sleep,” Kaoru protests. “You said his magic is going insane, and he’ll be permanently damaged if he doesn’t!”

 

“Kaoru,” Rei patiently grinds out, whipping his head around to stare at him, “if he’s going to spew prophecy, I’m going to listen to it right now, especially if it has to do with my brother. The Shadowlands is supposed to be the last safe haven we have.”

 

“He just ripped my sleep spell in half,” Kanata quietly supplies, still shaking out a hand as if he’d been burned. “I’m not putting another one on. He’ll just…get more upset.”

 

Natsume stirs again, brow knitting as he twists his head towards Rei’s touch, almost burying his face directly into his hand. “It’ll be born in the Shadowlands,” he murmurs, his eyes sliding half-way open, glazed so heavily that even his pupils appear gold. “Red-haired and true. There’s…more red—the drude takes the form of what Nagisa has lost…and it moves freely between the realms now, except when the drakes…are there…”

 

“And Ritsu,” Rei lowly prompts, trying not to sound impatient.

 

“Ritsu…isn’t enough. Eichi…”

 

Rei opens his mouth to press again, but Natsume’s eyes roll back again, and for a moment, real panic slithers in Rei’s gut as Natsume doesn’t take a breath. Then he does, a deep, sharp inhale, as if he’s coming up for air from underneath a lake, his eyes snapping open wide and clear. “Cold,” he mumbles immediately, teeth chattering as he grabs reflexively for one of the furs to cover himself up.

 

“Get out of my way,” Kaoru mutters, and climbs into the bed, wrapping his arms around Natsume and pulling him close. “Your sleep spell isn’t working, so just…let me. Kanata, thank you, but just…I think this might help more, right now.”

 

Shu turns from the bed and faces Rei. “Can you contact Ritsu? Does anyone actually know anything about this Nagisa demon, and what he might have lost? Prophecy is so damnably imprecise. Ritsu isn’t the only one there, between him and Mika, it should be fine.”

 

“Mika is inexperienced in the Shadowlands,” Rei worriedly says, immediately reaching out to his brother, an edge of worry extended to the thought. “That concerns me. Natsume shouldn’t be behind right now, at least, so at least this will serve as a warning, if nothing else.” It definitely sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.

 

Natsume shivers hard, buying himself directly into Kaoru’s arms. “Your cloak,” he mutters. “Give it to me.”

 

Kaoru twists to the side, performing a mild acrobatic maneuver to get his hands on his cloak without letting go of Natsume for even a second, wrapping it securely around him. “Here you are, love.”

 

Shu turns to Rei, blinking, distracted. _Love?_ he mouths.

 

 _Brother? Majesty? Nmn?_ comes Ritsu’s voice, more distracted than sleepy.

 

Rei shrugs a shoulder at Shu, throwing up a hand. _They’re very attached_ , he mouths back, then gives Ritsu a gentle pet mentally. _Checking in. I heard some worrisome things. Are you all right?_

 

Natsume settles almost immediately, albeit with another little shiver that drives him further into Kaoru’s arms. “I met your horse,” he somewhat deliriously mumbles. “Honor.”

 

“Eichi has my warhorse?” Kaoru asks, suddenly alarmed.

 

 _Things are getting crazy,_ Ritsu admits. _But so far, we have it in hand. Izumi is…really close. Guess we’ll find out soon if we have a new king, huh?_

 

 _Do you need reinforcements?_ Rei pauses. _Do you need me?_

 

“No,” Natsume drowsily says. “He’s outside.”

 

“I brought him,” Rei tosses over his shoulder, distractedly eavesdropping. “I thought you might show up.”

 

Kaoru’s shoulders slump, and he tucks his face into Natsume’s shoulder. “Oh. Good. Don’t make fun of me, I named my first warhorse when I was fourteen, and the name just kind of…stuck.”

 

 _I always want you here,_ Ritsu says frankly. _You sound tense. Don’t worry. I might not be you, but I’ve still got a good handle on my most elite troops up here._

 

_Natsume offered a worryingly vague prophecy. Just…be careful. I’ll come if you change your mind. Did you ask Izumi about our approach with Eichi yet? If he’s indecisive, I’m doing what I want._

 

“He’s _big_ ,” is the only commentary Natsume offers. “Big feet.”

 

“Hooves,” Hokuto deadpans. “I think they’re called hooves.”

 

_I’ve been with my generals until now. I’m talking to him right after this. Hold tight._

 

“They’re still feet, you pedant,” Kaoru says with a yawn. “Yeah. He’s a big boy. He has to be, to carry me in plate.”

 

“He wanted cookies. I could tell.”

 

 _The fact you’re talking to generals and not telling me about it is distressing. I_ will _come up there._

 

“We need more information,” Rei exhales, turning back around towards Natsume. “Natsume. Focus. Wake up.”

 

“I’m up,” Natsume mutters, abruptly sitting up, bare shoulders shaking a bit from the chill of the outdoors creeping in in spite of a roaring fire.

 

“Good boy. Did you meet Nagisa? And the drude?”

 

Natsume hesitates visibly before answering. “Y…es. Sort of. Nagisa took on Wataru’s form, though. He seemed…I don’t know what I was expecting, but not that. It was almost as if he was confused about the entire situation, including why he was even here.”

 

“Here,” Kanata says, before two handfuls of fire-warmed water promptly end up dumped on Natsume’s head. This doesn’t phase him in the slightest, especially when it comes with Kanata’s hands working it through and through, leaving it to drip onto his shoulders.

 

“How is that supposed to help?” Kaoru asks, mystified as Natsume is thoroughly wetted, his own face splashed.

 

Shu takes a perch on the side of the bed. “You said Ritsu wasn’t enough,” he presses, as gently as he can. “Do you remember that vision, child?”

 

_I mean…I won’t say no…_

 

“It just does,” Kanata says matter-of-factly, unconcerned with anyone else getting wet as he dumps another handful over Natsume’s shoulders.

 

“Believe it or not, it does,” Natsume says with a quiet laugh, tipping his head forward as he lets Kanata do whatever he wants to do at the moment. “Ritsu…that vision.” He briefly shuts his eyes, then shakes his head, reaching back to pull his hair up and out of Kanata’s way. “It’s not done. I’m sorry.”

 

“Then I’m going,” Rei abruptly says, grabbing his cloak from the back of a chair. “Ritsu’s being stubborn. If he’s too busy and distracted to ask Izumi a simple question, then—“

 

“No!” Natsume’s head snaps up again. “You can’t go. Here—you have to stay here. Eichi…will go to the Shadowlands.”

 

Rei exhales a frustrated sound through his teeth. “Which is exactly what I _don’t_ want, unless it’s to toss him into the Depths—“

 

“As a protector.” Natsume swallows, shaking his head again, recoiling a bit and paying absolutely no attention to the water that drips down into his face now. “I don’t know of what. Or who. But…you have to stay here, Lord Rei. With Kaoru. Please.” He pauses, and looks at the enormous water tub. “Can I just…get _in_ that?”

 

“You should,” Kanata eagerly says. “Definitely. It’ll help.”

 

“Should I wait on the bed?” Kaoru asks, eyebrows raised. “I like the water, but I don’t think it’ll like me very much. So, Natsume, you want me to stay here? And Rei? And—who else, where are we going?” Prophecy is hard.

 

“Please stop asking me questions for a moment, _all_ of you,” Natsume bemoans, taking Kanata’s hand and hauling himself up to his feet on wobbly legs. “My head hurts.”

 

“The water will help,” Kanata reassures him, helping him into the tub. “Just soooooak. It’s good.”

 

“It’s good,” Natsume agrees, slinking down as far as he can, knees pressed up to his chest.

 

Rei opens his mouth to remark that they don’t _exactly_ have time for this, but then he breathes in instead, recalibrates, and looks over to Kaoru. “People have lived for centuries without prophets, so we can give him five minutes to catch up. In the meantime, I suppose I’m staying here, then,” he simply says. “If you go chasing after a drude, it’s probably safe to say I should accompany you. Did Eichi remark on anything else of note when you spoke to him, Kaoru?”

 

Kaoru hesitates. “…Sorry. I’ve used up all of my skill at hiding things for the night,” he says wearily. “Yeah, he said one other thing, but you won’t like it at all.”

 

“Now isn’t the time to hiding anything, regardless of how much you think I’ll hate it,” Rei says. “Let’s hear it.”

 

“He says he’s willing to talk, and he’ll say whatever you want and keep no secrets. But only to Shu.”

 

A spark of magic ignites, burning a pinprick-sized hole in the wall. “Sorry,” Shu hisses, rubbing at the hole with his hand as if it’ll go away. “Bastard. Arrogant, disgusting bastard.”

 

Rei’s irritation is less explosive, and more felt in the low undertones of shifting, creaking roots growing deep beneath the house that make Natsume’s bath slosh as if they’re in the beginnings of an earthquake. “Ah,” he says, expression unchanging. “I see. You’re right, I don’t like that.”

 

“Don’t kill the messenger,” Kaoru says wearily. “The messenger isn’t in a mood for it.”

 

“He’s just trying to fuck with us,” Natsume quietly chimes in, slowly unfurling from his soaking and leaning forward over the edge of the wooden tub, hair dripping out the side. “The assumption that he’s in control of this situation…that’s wrong. I thought that, too, but—after seeing him argue with Nagisa, it’s clear he’s not calling the shots. That being said…Nagisa listens to what he says. Eventually. Eichi just has to argue with him the whole time.”

 

“Do we even,” Shu says, as calmly as he thinks anyone could possibly do under the circumstances, “have any idea what Eichi is trying to do? Are we assuming it’s some sort of generic, take of the world scheme that archdemons always fall into? Natsume, we’ve heard from Kaoru that this Nagisa might not be entirely lost to darkness. What was your sense of him?”

 

“…Bear in mind I was in and out of consciousness for a lot of this. Eichi hits hard,” Natsume grouses, rubbing at the knot on the back of his head that _certainly_ explains his headache beyond magical reasons, which has only started to recede underneath Kanata’s care. “He really, really didn’t want any part of it. Eichi and the drude were coaxing him through everything. He…kept saying that Eichi’s sword was his. He thinks he’s a paladin, the real deal and everything—except he’s missing the part where paladins don’t want to rule over the realm, at least to my knowledge. As far as what Eichi wants—I think it’s just the Academy. And revenge on anyone that might have breathed on Wataru, I guess.”

 

“Unreasonable piece of shit,” Shu says, in what he hopes sounds like a mild tone of voice, though the words drip vinegar. “It’s his own fault Wataru transcended. Actually, all of this is his own fault. He’s like a parent who raised a child for several years, then beat him black and blue and killed all of his friends, and now doesn’t know why the child wants to leave home.”

 

Natsume shrugs a shoulder uncomfortably, water sloshing again at the edges of the tub. “I don’t know what his issue with Wataru is, really. That’s a little beyond me. But…I do know they’re all _very_ convinced of how to ‘make’ a prophet’s power be their own. Like it’s some…handed-down ritual or something. I have to admit, I skipped over a lot of that in the Svalde libraries, but Eichi was _convinced_ it’s an actual thing—specifically, that paladins do. Apparently…he did it with Nagisa’s mother, or something? I don’t know. I didn’t catch all of it.”

 

Kaoru blinks, entirely blank. “I’ve never heard of it. But, uh, as he was quick to point out, there’s a whole lot about paladins that I’m not real familiar with. Maybe if we asked the Svalde…I don’t know what kind of time we really have, or what the best use of it is.”

 

“Immaterial,” Shu says briskly. “Natsume, you’re having visions, so they haven’t stripped your power. He’s so stupid, of course he thinks he has a magic cock. All terrible men think that.”

 

“It doesn’t take the prophet’s power _away_ , it just…makes it shared? I don’t know, it sounded ludicrous to me, too,” Natsume exasperatedly says, fluttering a hand. “Apparently he was _really_ into Nagisa’s mother, so he probably went crazy and stupid about it, as he tends to do about people he ‘likes.’”

 

Rei’s fingers briefly tap against his lips. “‘The drude takes the form of what Nagisa has lost’…we’ve been assuming this whole time that the drude is taking the place of Nagisa’s mate in some fashion, because that’s what drudes have done for Eichi,” he suddenly says. “But he’s red-haired, correct? Is he…taking the place of Nagisa’s _mother_ , maybe?”

 

Natsume makes a face, turning his head away. “Yuck.”

 

“Gross,” Kaoru agrees, but his face is contemplative. “That would be…weird, to say the least, since we’re pretty sure that his mother is Eichi’s daughter, yes?”

 

_Brother. I talked to Izumi._

 

“Mmhm. Back when Eichi was meddling with the royal family—oh wait,” Natsume deadpans. “That never stopped.”

 

_And? What did he say?_

 

_Do you want his exact words? Or should I paraphrase?_

 

_Let’s hear the exact phrasing, so I can be sure to know how he truly feels._

 

_Okay, let me make sure I’ve got this right…there’s a lot of nuance here. ’No! What the fuck? Fuck, no! Tell him I’ll kill him myself, after all Leo’s done for him? Who the fuck does he think he is? Pregnant or not, I’ll go down there and kick his ass myself! Ugh! No! Absolutely not! How could he even ask such a…And tell him no again!’ I think that was about it._

 

_Thanks. It was like I was there myself._

 

Rei heaves a long, aggravated sigh, glancing over to Shu. “Well. I asked.”

 

Shu’s expression softens immediately. “How is Izumi?”

 

“Fine. And pissed at me now, thank you.”

 

“Well. You did ask his permission to kill his husband.”

 

“I did not ask permission to kill his husband. I asked to kill his husband’s mate.”

 

“Oh, is that all? And why did you need to ask permission for that?”

 

“…Because it would kill his husband.”

 

“Ah. I thought it might be something like that.”

 

“For the betterment of the realm!” Rei insists. “Honestly. Has no one ever heard of a sacrifice these days?”

 

“For what it’s worth, Lord Rei,” Natsume drawls, propping his chin atop folded arms as he drapes partially out of the tub, “I also think it’s bullshit, and Eichi should just die.”

 

“I _am_ open to gelding and eternal imprisonment,” Shu says generously. “For anyone that’s keeping a vote.”

 

“Oh, you just like the idea of gelding too much,” Rei exasperatedly says. “I should have never joked about it.”

 

“I’m getting prune-y,” Natsume complains. “Kanata, can I get out now? I feel better.”

 

“I don’t know why you’d ever want to get out…” Kanata wistfully says. “But yes. Come here, kitty kitty,” he hums, taking Natsume’s hands to help him out.

 

Rei immediately strides over, blanketing Natsume in his own Nightcloak before he can even begin to shiver. “Shu will make you another one as soon as possible,” he quietly says, brushing Natsume’s damp hair from his face as he presses a kiss to his forehead. “Until then, you’re welcome to mine.”

 

“…Thanks,” Natsume mumbles, huddling down into it. “Smells like opium.”

 

Shu sighs. “I forgot, for a moment, that he burned the cloak. My finest work, too. I’ll think about it while I’m gelding him, I think.”

 

Kaoru tugs Natsume close, getting him on his lap, entirely engulfing him in his arms. “So. What we have on their side is Eichi, Nagisa, the drude, the paladin, and two wizards. Six. On our side, is the entirety of the Shadowlands, the Demon King, three other Nightcloaks, including a prophet, a paladin of sorts, a…Hokuto, the king somewhere, a dragon somewhere, a very large dog, and honestly, I’m not sure why we’re acting scared, they’re fighting amongst themselves and we have them so ridiculously outnumbered we could resist them in any case.”

 

“You forgot Hiyori,” Natsume quietly supplies as he winds his arms around Kaoru’s neck. “Nagisa’s mate. He’s…strong.”

 

“It took my blade to cut through his magic,” Hokuto offers as a gauge, then pauses, realizing that doesn’t mean much to those that don’t know. “It was my father’s sword.” He pauses again when that garners no response. “The Heavensword.”

 

“Kaoru, translate,” Rei abruptly says. “He forgets he’s talking to a room of creatures and wizards, not paladins.”

 

“When creatures of the Depths do things, it’s out of absence,” Kaoru says, looking at Natsume as he does. _You’re better at explaining than me, let me know if I’m being hard to understand._ “Wizard’s magic is change. Paladin’s power is positive, in a way? So only a paladin can undo things from the darkest Depths in an efficient way. Hokuto’s father was a paladin. A pretty famous one, actually. You seriously have the Heavensword with you? Can I see it?”

 

_That was pretty good, up until the hero worship parts._

 

“If you want,” Hokuto says with a sigh, hauling himself to his feet and moving to where he’d unbuckled the sword and left it near the door. “Everyone talks about how famous he is, but he was mostly just annoying, if you ask me…”

 

“They shouldn’t be talking about how _famous_ he is,” Kaoru says, voice hushed when he sees the fabled sword appear. “They should talk about the deeds he did, the rules he changed, the law he _lived_. He was what I wanted to grow up to be like.”

 

“Didn’t he tumble an Airbred that later turned into a cloud and swallowed him whole?” Rei mildly asks as Hokuto hands over the sword.

 

Natsume snorts. “Sounds like you,” he idly says, apparently to no one in particular.

 

“…Who’re you talking to, Natsume?” Kanata asks after a short pause.

 

“Oh. Wataru.”

 

Kaoru opens his mouth, thinks better of it, and closes it again. Not tonight. Not going there right now. Not with what Natusme’s been through.

 

Shu appears to ignore this completely, turning and facing Hokuto. “Who, exactly, are you saying you can kill with that sword?” he asks bluntly. “I’ve had quite enough of this dancing and worrying and faffing about. I came North to get you back, Natsume. But I don’t think my continued presence here serves any constructive purpose.”

 

He turns and looks at Rei, eyes level. “I’m a target to him. It would be better if I were not here. Take away everything he loves and everything he wants and everything he lusts after, and he’ll have no reason to continue.”

 

Rei exhales a breath at that. “I agree,” he simply says. “And though it pains me, I think you being here is…dangerous. It’s why I wanted you to be as far away as possible in the first place. There’s no telling when he’ll grow bored of taunts and actually attempt to come for you and—while I know exactly how exceedingly capable you are—that doesn’t mean I’m worried any less. With that in mind…do you have the mind to turn South? Or…”

 

“I never said I could kill anyone with my sword,” Hokuto idly interjects. “Just that I had it. And I _did_ cut through Hiyori’s magic with it. It seemed efficient at the time.”

 

“Useless,” Shu says with a sigh. “I should have known. My Lord…once again, I think it’s best if nobody knows where I left the child. But I will return to his side now.” He reaches out a hand, and cups Rei’s cheek. “And then, when this is all done…you can take me to the Shadowlands properly.”

 

“No part of this makes me happy,” Rei bluntly says, lifting a hand to close it over Shu’s. “That’s not a complaint towards you. It just means I hate this.”

 

“I hate all of this,” Shu agrees, and turns his hand, taking Rei’s and squeezing it. “When this is all over, we can go to the Shadowlands and become what destiny has written for us.”

 

Kaoru sends a gentle little probe in Natsume’s direction. _Any premonition of that? Something to give them hope?_

 

“There is peace there,” Natsume absently says. “Eventually.”

 

Rei offers Shu a wry smile, bending in to kiss him. “If you and our prophet say as much, then it must be so,” he simply says. “Do you want a horse or a portal, love?”

 

_I can’t see shit about them, but it doesn’t take much to be vaguely optimistic and make someone happy._

 

 _You’re a good man._ Kaoru sends a pulse of affection and warmth that he hopes gets through, clumsy as he is with all of this.

 

“Portal, if you please. I don’t trust him not to have another watchtower set up.” Shu returns the kiss, then steals another, and another, as if it’ll be his last chance. Then, finally, he pulls away, face turned from the fire. “Send me to High Harbor, it’ll be easy to get to the Sandlands from there.”

 

 _Nnnn. Not really. I just like them the most_ , is Natsume’s embarrassed deflection as he buries his face down into Kaoru’s neck.

 

“As you wish.” The sand of High Harbor’s beaches is fortunately not difficult to come by in his bags, and with that tossed into the fire, Shu is sent on his way, safely out of Eichi’s reach—for now, at least.

 

Rei straightens up after staring at the fire for a bit too long, shakes himself off, and turns around. “Back to the task at hand,” he briskly says. “Kaoru—your assessment of the situation is forgetting a couple of things. One, the Shadowlands is _not_ at our disposal. If I unleash my armies into this world, there will be hell to pay, and no real chance of dragging them back out, and lest you forget, I’m attempting to make a new pact with the paladins. Two, the king is a useless point of leverage unless I find him first. And three—“

 

“The drude,” Natsume finishes for him with a shiver. “The drude is so…so much worse than any book has ever told.”

 

“But it seems stupid to assume we’re going to be fighting the drude,” Kaoru argues. “Eichi sent a paladin to kill him just a couple of hours ago. He might already be dead.”

 

“Then we’ll wait to see if that worked. At which point, I’m not worried. But until then—I am, especially because you came back telling me that Eichi has a piss poor excuse of a paladin that can’t match your level, and _you’re_ already somewhat defunct,” Rei bluntly says. “Unless I’m to interpret what you said differently?”

 

Kaoru hesitates. “Ah…versus another paladin, yes, he’s not very skilled. But Eichi said something that’s absolutely right, and that’s the fact that I have no idea how pure his mind and heart are. From what I saw, he’s very nearly a fanatic, most of his clan are. He changed his name and lived hidden for years, but he apparently also has Eichi’s blessing, which…if it means to him what I think it does, that drude might be toast.”

 

“Hmm.” Rei frowns, tapping a finger to his chin. “This is why magic is so much easier to plan around,” he says. “But all right. Then—I’m still worried, but if that truly is the case…then wait and see does seem to be the right approach. If the drude is gone by morning, then we’ll go from there. Apparently, I’m not allowed to kill Eichi, but I can certainly do enough damage to make him wish he was dead. The other two archdemons…”

 

“I’m still here,” Natsume says, lifting a hand. “I can handle them, especially if Hokuto is there.”

 

“Do you think,” Rei idly asks, glancing to Kaoru, “it counts as ‘killing’ Eichi if I throw him onto the Sorrow’s Gate to close it? He’ll come back to life, he obviously did before.”

 

Kaoru shrugs a shoulder. “I think that any time we try to guess what his capabilities are, we wind up being wrong. I’d love to hear what the dragon has to say, he’s the only one old enough to have a clue about what a former seraphim can do.”

 

“ _I_ was just trying to be a smartass and circumvent Izumi’s vehement command for me to not kill the king via his mate, but alas. Yes, I believe Madara’s opinion might—“

 

Kanata hisses loudly.

 

“Ah. Well. They don’t get along,” Rei wearily says. “It’s…a point of contention.”

 

“Hey!” Kaoru objects. “How come when _I_ didn’t get along with Wavebred, I got told to shut the hell up and deal with it, but if a giant terrifying dragon older than the very earth says it, he gets a free pass?”

 

“Because you don’t bite with serrated teeth when pressed about the issue.”

 

“If I start, does that mean I get to be a dick about it again?”

 

“You can try, but only because the idea of you having serrated teeth _does_ turn me on a little.”

 

“Kanata’s opinions aside…does anyone here know how to call him?” Kaoru asks, turning to look at Natsume.

 

“I…probably?” Natsume says, blinking up at him. “At least, the old ritual way.”

 

“Do not call him,” Kanata flatly says.

 

“And I know Lord Rei summoned him once…”

 

“Ahaha, we don’t talk about that.”

 

“Do _not_ call him.”

 

“You’re being unreasonable,” Kaoru snaps at Kanata. “You don’t get to make this decision for everyone. He’s probably the only creature that’s marginally on our side that’s anywhere _near_ old and powerful enough to give us the edge, unless you’ve got an eldritch sea monster willing to beach himself all the way to the glaciers.”

 

“Kaoru,” Rei quietly warns.

 

Kanata’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, Rei’s weight shifts, ready to grab him in the event he lunges straight for Kaoru’s jugular. Instead, Kanata rocks to his feet, every muscle drawn and tense. “Then I’ll leave,” he says, and walks to the bedroom far more briskly than Rei remembers him moving in any recent memory.

 

“I’m too tired to play nice with everyone’s feelings,” Kaoru says, before Rei can start laying into him. “I like Kanata an awful lot, but we don’t have time to let our personal feelings get in the way of unity. You were quick enough to come down on the side of tolerance and patience whenever I’m making waves, Rei, but you never ask that of your friends.”

 

Rei holds his hands up placatingly for what feels like the umpteenth time that day. “You’ll notice I did not say to _not_ call the dragon,” he diplomatically says. “All I said was that there is some contention there. It’s not going to be resolved overnight with those two, either, so we’re going to need to pick and choose, unless I can go talk to him and calm him down. Because, Kaoru—yes, I expect tolerance and patience of you. I ask plenty of it from my friends. I asked enough of Wataru that he’s dead now, and enough of Shu that he tore out of a part of his soul. Believe it or not, this is not a similar case of casual paladin racism that we’re dealing with.”

 

“Then go talk to him,” Kaoru says, with what feels to him like incredible, saintly patience. “I don’t know if the dragon will even be any help, it just seems really stupid to ignore him when he _might_ be able to fix this mess.”

 

Rei offers nothing except a shrug of one shoulder before rising and striding off into the other room.

 

“I have no idea what this is about, either,” Natsume offers, glancing up at Kaoru from where he remains huddled up into his lap. “Historically, Wavebred and Skybred have always gotten along…and Lord Kanata has never been anything but kind to me.”

 

“Historically, Wavebred and paladins kill each other,” Kaoru says, equally mystified, “but we get along really well, too. So it’s probably not along racial lines, either way. Mm, comfy, kitty-cat?”

 

“Mmhm.” Natsume snuggles into Kaoru’s chest a bit more for emphasis, drawing Rei’s cloak tighter around himself. “Grumpy, though.”

 

“You’re grumpy? I’m grumpy? Rei’s grumpy? Kanata’s grumpy?”

 

“I’m grumpy. I win the current grumpy contest. Don’t ask how I know.”

 

The bedroom door flings open, and Kanata stalks out of it, hair and Nightcloak whipping behind him as he storms over to Kaoru. “My ‘personal feelings’ don’t matter?” he snaps, bringing Natsume to briskly scramble out of Kaoru’s lap. “Say that again, Kaoru, but to _me_ this time.”

 

“I didn’t say that!” Kaoru’s face flushes hot, and he jumps to his feet, of a height with Kanata, staring back unrepentantly. “I said we don’t have time to let those personal feelings get in the way! Things are kind of dangerous, in case you haven’t noticed! Not just for us, but for a lot of the people I’m sworn to protect!”

 

“If we didn’t have time to let out ‘personal feelings’ get in the way, we wouldn’t have paused everything to save Natsume,” Kanata lowly hisses, taking a step forward, his fangs bared, his pupils slitted and distinctly reptilian. “But we _did_. Tell him it would’ve have been easier to deal with that later, Rei.”

 

Rei lingers by the bedroom door, arms folded. “I don’t want to argue about that, Kanata—“

 

“ _Your_ ‘personal feelings’ sent away Shu…who could kill an archdemon…or close the Sorrow’s Gate! But when it’s _my_ bonded, no one cares!”

 

“Your bonded,” Rei firmly says, “is not _here_ , nor will he be involved—“

 

“But he is! Every time!”

 

“What are you _talking_ about?” Kaoru demands, stepping between Kanata and Natsume, as if he can shield him from the hurled words. “Kanata, Kanata, please, look at me, all right?” He holds up his hands, pleadingly. “It would be so much easier to understand if you’d just tell us what you mean. Or maybe Rei knows, and I’m the only idiot who’s left in the dark, again, and I keep saying things because I don’t know. I like Chiaki, remember?”

 

“I…ah…I don’t know either,” Natsume pipes up from behind Kaoru, peering around him nervously when he’s never seen Kanata _quite_ so riled up before.

 

Kanata trembles where he stands, angry and unable to hide it, before diving around Kaoru and Natsume both to throw himself into the tub of water left in front of the fire.

 

Natsume shifts, slinking closer against Kaoru’s back and grabbing a handful of his cloak. “…you could’ve waited to come get me, I was fine—“

 

“That is _not_ what he’s saying, little cat,” Rei gently says, striding forward to immediately pet Natsume’s hair. “We all wanted you home as soon as possible, please don’t think he meant otherwise.”

 

“That’s not what I meant,” comes Kanata’s unhappy confirmation before he slinks deeper into the water, obviously furious that he can’t put his head under properly.

 

“It’s what he said, though,” Kaoru says through his clenched jaw. “If I said we should put our feelings aside when Chiaki was in imminent danger, yeah, fucking gut me. But I made a really sensible suggestion, and no one is bothering to tell me why it’s a bad one.”

 

“I never said it was a bad one,” Rei quietly points out. “Just that—“

 

“He was my betrothed.”

 

The words are terse, Kanata’s normally lilting voice a sharp clip. “Wavebred and Skybred have ‘traded’ like that…for centuries. It was our turn. But…then I formed a resonant bond, and Wavebred honor that first…above any arrangement…and don’t give ‘replacements.’ So Madara…never… _ever_ …stops being awful about Chiaki. Nor does he leave me _alone._ ”

 

Kaoru isn’t entirely certain what he’d been expecting to hear, but it certainly wasn’t this. He blinks, then frowns. “Has he ever hurt Chiaki?”

 

“He’s tried to, in roundabout ways,” Rei wearily supplies as Kanata dissolves back into hissing. “And, you know. A great deal of insults that don’t _exactly_ go over well when the receiver is a cute human and hears them from a tall, strapping dragon.”

 

“Don’t tell the story when you think he’s attractive!” Kanata snarls.

 

“Sorry!”

 

Kaoru takes a deep breath, and tries not to react automatically. Natsume is safe. That’s what’s important. Natsume is safe. “All right,” he says quietly. “I’m open to other suggestions. Maybe we could talk to Izumi, and he could ask any of the drakes up in the glacier if they know anyone that old?”

 

“Whatever,” Kanata unhappily, moodily says, splashing water over into Kaoru’s face. “Just call Madara, if you want.”

 

“Fuck off, if you’re going to be moody and unreasonable,” Kaoru grumbles, wiping water out of his eyes and stalking back to the bed. “I was trying. I’m the _only_ one making suggestions, but sure, I’m the bad guy for not wanting us all to die.” He holds a hand up, eyes squeezed shut. “I—wait. I’m angry, and you’re pissing me off on purpose. I’ve told you guys before, I have no temper left today, not after…” He swallows, and looks back towards Natsume.

 

“No one,” Rei briskly interrupts, picking Natsume up by the waist and setting him back into Kaoru’s lap, “is saying you’re the bad guy. All of our tempers are shot, we’re all running on our last leg, and all attempting to find solutions. Some are easier to swallow than the rest. For now, however, you two are going to _sleep_ ,” he insistently says, grabbing the handle of the water tub Kanata is huddled up into and dragging it with him, “out here, by the fire, where Natsume needs to be, and Kanata and I are going to be calm and also sleepy in the bedroom and discuss this idea further. Hokuto is going to be delightful and keep watch, aren’t you?”

 

“Ah—yes?”

 

“Great. Is that all right with you, Kaoru?”

 

“…The part where I sleep is the best part,” Kaoru says wearily. “Yeah. That sounds good. Thanks. For being you.”

 

Rei opens his mouth to say something about that, then says nothing of the sort. Instead, he simply says, “Thank you, for taking care of Natsume,” before shutting the door behind himself and Kanata without another word.

 

Natsume waits until Hokuto slips outside of the cottage before exhaling a long, shuddering breath, sagging down into Kaoru’s chest.

 

“Did Rei just insult me?” Kaoru asks, his voice wry and tired as he cuddles around Natsume. “I don’t even care anymore. Nnh, tell me I’m not out of line.”

 

“I…I don’t think he did? Unless I really misunderstood…” Natsume groans, stuffing his face down into Kaoru’s neck, shivering as he cuddles closer. “People are so confusing. The only thing you’re out of line about right now is not being naked. Skinship, please.”

 

“God, _please_.” Kaoru strips in record time—well, probably not a record for him, but close—and gets them both under the blankets and his cloak, cuddled in close. “I don’t care if I’m wrong about everything, just tell me in the morning.”

 

Natsume stuffs Rei’s cloak underneath his head as a pillow, nosing at Kaoru’s bare chest as his own eyelids droop. Even if it’s just a temporary, shitty sleep, it’s better than nothing, so says his body. “Don’t care,” he mumbles. “Sorry about…everything.”

 

“Of course you’re apologizing,” Kaoru says sleepily, the warmth and good company making him instantly drowsy. “You’re the only one I don’t think needs to do it. Sleep. Give me all your bad dreams, you deserve the rest.”

 

“I wish it worked like that,” Natsume murmurs, but the moment he lets his eyes slide completely shut, he’s unconscious, though clinging to Kaoru just as tightly in his sleep.

 


	43. Chapter 43

 

Winter nights in the North are long, impossibly long, and it reminds Rei strongly of the Shadowlands.

 

Even when the sun rises, the color of the sky barely changes—more to a dusky grey rather than something dark and moonlit over the snow that continues to fall, not letting up in the slightest and only causing the drifts to rise further.

 

By the time he hauls himself out of bed, feeling anything but well-rested, he can already _smell_ the scent of freshly cast magic, and that at least forces himself to rise more quickly.

 

A glance out of the window proves that it’s Natsume, _somehow_ well put-together even in travel-worn clothes and Rei’s Nightcloak, creating an enormous summoning circle in the snow.

 

Rei sighs, meandering into the cottage’s main room. “We certainly do ask a lot of him,” he absently says, watching Natsume from the next window as he passes it. “Good morning, Kaoru. Did you get some rest, at least?”

 

Kaoru sits up slowly, the blankets draped loosely over his body, eyes on Natsume out the window. “Some. Still got some of his dreams, but they were just…confusing. Not that interesting, at least, and I didn’t know what the hell was going on. You?”

 

“Opium does wonders,” Rei dryly says, though his head tilts, contemplative. “It’s interesting, that you can see his dreams.”

 

Kaoru shrugs. “Feature of the bond, I assume. We haven’t found out anything else we can do. Except telepathy, but we could do that before, because he’s good at it.”

 

“I wonder…ah, no, that’s giving him too much credence,” Rei dismissively says, drifting away to make tea. “Most bonds don’t _do_ anything, that’s all.”

 

“But he’s a Nightcloak. All of their bonds seem to have some, uh, perks, right?”

 

“Shu and myself, yes. Wataru never had a bond, and Kanata’s is useless, except to make him exhausted when they’re apart for too long. Eichi…I don’t know, great sex, from what I’ve been told.”

 

“That’s not a bond perk, that’s just…they’re both really horny.”

 

“That’s what _I_ said, but Leo insisted. It’s made from dried leaves this time, want some?”

 

“Please.” Kaoru takes the cup gratefully, sipping gently instead of attempting to down it all at once. “My head still feels too full, though.”

 

“That’s the wonder of Shadewine.” Rei drops down next to him on the furs, sipping his own tea slowly as he watches Natsume on the other side of the window, each casting looking more like the movements of a dance. “Natsume has never been able to share the actual visuals of a prophecy with any of us. Not to give Eichi any sort of credit, but I do wonder if he was onto something about taking a prophet’s power…”

 

“That’s disgusting,” Kaoru says sharply, his mind veering hard left away from that idea. “I’d never do anything like that to him.”

 

“I agree. And I know. Just because he tried to do it nonconsensually,” Rei mildly says, “doesn’t mean you did.”

 

“But…but the legend said…” Kaoru grimaces. “That you have to rape a prophet to steal his powers.”

 

“And who wrote that legend?” Rei flutters a hand unhappily. “This _is_ Eichi we’re talking about.”

 

“…I don’t want to think about that,” Kaoru mutters. “Did Kanata calm down? I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.”

 

“He’s certainly quieter,” Rei diplomatically says. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it, Kaoru. How could you, you didn’t even know.”

 

“So…he doesn’t want to call the dragon because the dragon insults his bonded,” Kaoru says slowly. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to talk to someone that insulted Natsume, either. But I would, in a situation like this. I’d just make sure they didn’t meet.”

 

“Madara seeks him out. It’s, ah…” Rei spares a glance back to the bedroom where Kanata still remains. “Please don’t tell him I used this comparison. You know how stallions get, when a mare _isn’t_ in heat but they really, really want her to be? That’s Madara. Kanata is the mare kicking him repeatedly in the face.”

 

Kaoru grimaces. “All right. That’s not particularly good. So…are you going to try to summon him? Or do we have a better idea? I’m not saying I want him around for long or anything, I just want to go to the table with Eichi with a big show of strength behind us, make him think we know more than we do, make him think we have a lot more power on our side than we do.”

 

“Considering ‘just fucking kill him’ has been taken off the table…” Rei wryly trails off, shaking his head before downing back half of his tea. “I don’t know what else to do. Strategy only goes so far when your enemy is stupid and random. I think you have the right idea. Now, whether or not Madara will show up…”

 

“If he doesn’t,” Kaoru says softly, “you’ll have to figure something else out. Bring up some elderly monster from the Shadowlands or something. I…this is all I’ve got. I can pretend to have my family’s support, but Eichi knows that’s thin at best.”

 

“If he doesn’t,” Rei lowly says, “then I’m going back to the first plan. Kill the drude, then kill the other shitty archdemons, then kill Eichi.”

 

“And do what with the realm?” Kaoru asks, his voice just as low. “Is it your responsibility, then? I’m not telling you you’re wrong, but…someone has to take responsibility for that decision. Someone has to be in charge of making sure the realm is ruled well, if you kill the king.”

 

“As Shu has pointed out to me, he has a Lord Husband. And lest _everyone_ forget, he does have a King Regent already, ruling the throne as we speak.” Rei shrugs a shoulder. “And that’s me being generous and attempting to help with arrangements. Kaoru, I don’t have to do any of this. I just want to be rid of this bastard.”

 

Kaoru sighs, and rubs at the bridge of his nose. “I know. I hate him, too. I just…we’ve charged into too many stupid situations without thinking them through before, and we’ve made a right mess of things. I’m just getting nervous because I don’t usually have this much time to think about stuff before we make the mistakes.”

 

“We’re past charging in at this point. I’ve given Eichi too many chances to make things right and behave, even letting the king claim he had him as his ‘dog.’ Bullshit, all of it. If we’re going to be very blunt about it,” Rei says, “if he’s a citizen of the realm still, he’s a wizard. A rogue wizard, and a rogue wizard that harmed one of _my_ wizards. For that alone, I could have him executed. But no one wants to have me flex those muscles because he’s connected to the king. This, you see, is why I hate everyone.”

 

Natsume’s footsteps upon the walkway make him glance up, and the door creaks open a moment later. “It’s _cold_ ,” he complains, stomping his way inside. “I hate it, hate it, hate it.”

 

“Join in, sweetheart,” Kaoru says cheerfully, sipping his tea. “We’re hating things in here.”

 

Natsume hisses as he drops in front of the fire immediately, flat on the floor, face into the wooden floor. “Waaaarrrrm.”

 

“Sometimes,” Rei murmurs to Kaoru, mouth twitching up in amusement, “he’s both a cat _and_ a reptile.”

 

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Kaoru says fondly. “I think it’s very good.”

 

“Aren’t _you_ smitten.”

 

“Yes,” Kaoru says unrepentantly. “Sweetheart, did you have success outside? You were lovely to watch.”

 

“Mmnf.” Natsume rolls onto his side, back to the fire to further his basking. “The summoning is all set up, if we still want to do that,” he says, his eyes flicking up to Rei. “I can’t say if it’ll work or not…dragons are…what they are.”

 

“Worth a shot,” Rei sighs, downing the last of his tea. “Hate to say it, but if we put Kanata in the middle as bait, he’d come flying in from all around.”

 

Kaoru sighs. “I wouldn’t ask him to do that. If he has a change of heart and wants to help out with this, fine, but hopefully he’ll sense us all being very cute and want to help us.”

 

“You know what would probably convince him,” Rei gently says, “is if you went in there and offered him some tasty, tasty paladin blood, so he feels better after playing healer to some of the most important people in the realm for the past two weeks.”

 

“Oh.” Kaoru considers, then brightens. “I can be tasty. Any objections to me using my deliciousness for the greater good, Natsume?”

 

“No. As long as it’s just deliciousness.”

 

“There it is,” Rei hums, climbing to his feet to make himself another cup of tea. “The golden chain of monogamy.”

 

Kaoru makes a face at Rei’s back, and leans over to press a kiss to Natsume’s cheek. “That’s all I have to give him, my sweet. Wait here and be a good kittycat, I’ll be out soon.”

 

He strides to the door, and knocks gently. “Kanata? It’s Kaoru.”

 

The initial sound that greets Kaoru is the quiet sloshing of water, before the door swings open, presenting a mostly naked, dripping wet Kanata. “What?” he grumpily asks, magical hackles already more or less raised, his hair floating up as if it’s still suspended by the water.

 

“I came to apologize,” Kaoru says frankly, leaning on the doorframe. “And ask if you were hungry. Empty hands, no magic, no binding, just a friend saying sorry.”

 

Kanata eyes him warily for a moment before slowly stepping back, dripping onto the wooden floor as he allows Kaoru to take a step forward. “…I was…mean last night,” he eventually settles for. “Just…mentioning Madara too much…makes me cranky.”

 

Kaoru nods slowly, and takes a step inside the room, shutting the door behind himself. “You had every right to feel the way you do,” he says, hands still up. He hasn’t gotten this old around this many powerful creatures without learning a thing or two about body language. “I didn’t know, or I’d have done everything different. I guess you and I still don’t…really know that much about each other yet, huh?”

 

Kanata takes another, giving step back, watching Kaoru for a moment more before he slowly nods, and his hair gradually floats back down, only levitating with a vague sway as he breathes now. “Mm….I guess…we really don’t,” he allows, absently rubbing at one arm as he watches Kaoru. “It’s not…something I tell people…because it’s not important now…and I’m very good at…avoiding him.” He hesitates, then looks aside. “If we need him here, though…I’ll behave.”

 

It’s impossible not to heave a sigh of relief. Kaoru reaches out, and brushes some of that weird, floating hair behind Kanata’s ear. “Thanks, my friend. If…” He swallows, and blushes. “If it weren’t for Natsume, and how involved he is…I’d be tempted to just turn on my heel and leave. I can only imagine how you feel.”

 

Kanata’s hand snatches out, long nails pricking into Kaoru’s skin as his fingers curl about his wrist. “Natsume…is very…very… _very_ special,” he says, his voice soft in warning. “I like you, Kaoru…but if you ever…make him sad…I will _eat you._ ”

 

Kaoru holds his gaze, unmoving, for a long minute, then smiles. “Thank you,” he says, very honestly. “I’m glad. I wouldn’t want anyone to hurt him, either. If I ever do, you have my blessing.”

 

Kanata stares back at him for a moment more before smiling back, pleased. “You’re a good boy, Kaoru,” he says, and releases Kaoru’s wrist to pet his head instead. “I’ll be watching. A lot.”

 

“Good.” Kaoru rubs his hand, feeling little indents from Kanata’s nails. “So, the other reason I came, Rei thought you might be hungry. And I’ve got plenty of blood I’m not exactly using.”

 

Kanata pauses at that, unable to stop the reflexive drag of his tongue over his fangs. “I am…hungry,” he murmurs. “But…is that okay…with your bond?”

 

“…I have blood, and that’s fine with him,” Kaoru says, with a crooked smile. “Anything more spicy is kind of off the table, though. It doesn’t work for me like it used to.”

 

“…That’s fine. I don’t…want to do anything like that right now,” Kanata admits, fingers twitching a little. “Even feeding from you…doesn’t feel good right now, but…”

 

“But I want you to feel good,” Kaoru says quietly. “I still care about you. And I suggested something that’s going to trouble you a lot, so…”

 

“Mm. I’m just…being a baby,” Kanata says with a little laugh, fidgeting. “I miss Chiaki…and I really wanna feed from him…but Kaoru is good, too. Next best thing, I think…”

 

_Love? He doesn’t want me, he wants Chiaki…any chance you have enough juice to make him a portal, just for a couple hours?_

 

_I could, but…we’d have to run it by Lord Rei. It might attract more attention, especially after Lord Shu left the same way last night…_

 

“When you talk to him,” Kanata idly says, his head tilting to the side, “you get a cute look on your face…”

 

Kaoru flushes, and looks away. “I can’t help it. He makes me feel so…warm.”

 

_He deserves it. We’re asking a lot of him, and he’s been more use than anyone. If you ask Rei, he won’t say no to your cute face._

 

“Ehhh…Kaoru really is a good boy…” Kanata teases, taking a wobbly step closer. “But you should be better…at hiding it eventually. Or someone’s gonna know…”

 

_My cuteness is not weaponized._

 

But there’s a pause all the same, and the door cracks open with Rei leaning his head inside. “Kanata—do you really need to feed from Chiaki?”

 

Kanata blinks a few times. “Eh? But…”

 

“C’mon. Natsume has a fire portal for you.”

 

Kaoru grins, and gives Kanata a wink. “As long as they can’t figure out what I’m saying, I think it’s all right if they know I’m happy. Like I know you’re about to be happy.”

 

_Not weaponized. Just impressive._

 

_Eh. Lord Rei is easy._

 

Kanata pokes him in the cheek. “Dumb,” he simply says before stepping around him, drifting back into the main room. “Nnn…I hate fire portals…but…”

 

“I’ll try to make sure you land right into the harbor,” Natsume reassuringly says, sitting cross-legged in a chair in front of the fire. “Do you have something of Chiaki’s?”

 

“Mm. Of course…I—“

 

The fire flares sharply, flames expanding well beyond the fireplace for a moment and partially engulfing the room. Rei grabs Natsume, yanking him back behind himself as Kanata yelps, thrown back against Kaoru from the blast.

 

One pale, black-taloned hand slaps down onto the wooden floor, then another, before Eichi himself crawls through, eyes sharp, hair fluttering from the heat of the fire. “Is that a dragon summoning circle I see?” he breathes. “Don’t you _fucking_ dare.”

 

Every single ward within the house activates at once as a glittering purple web of tripwires, all hyperfocused on catching Eichi. Eichi hauls himself to his feet, snapping half of the bindings in question, and Rei shoves Natsume back, lunging forward to grab Eichi by the throat, shoving him back against the fireplace as the fire dies down again. “Maybe you skipped a meeting,” Rei hisses, “but being the king’s mate doesn’t make me less likely to rip your throat out now.”

 

Eichi breathes out a heavy breath, and slowly lifts his hands, the remains of Rei’s shredded castings dangling about them. “I gathered,” he says. “But let’s play a little game called _we’re all fucked_ , if you don’t listen to me.”

 

It takes everything Kaoru has not to run to Natsume. _Trust Rei, trust Rei, he loves Natsume, he’d never hurt Natsume, fucking focus you shitty excuse for a paladin!_

 

He just manages to grab his sword, then force himself to relax a little. Eichi isn’t currently killing them all, which is…somewhat positive? Perhaps? Maybe? Hard to say. Worse to think about. “This place does have a front door, you know,” he drawls. “That would have put us a little less on edge, if listening was your aim.”

 

Eichi shrugs as much as he’s able. “Warded a little too strongly. But portals made by baby wizards—well.” He flutters a hand. “It’s easy to come inside them.”

 

With absolutely no hesitation, Rei calmly snaps his neck.

 

Eichi crumples to the floor like a puppet cut from its strings, but Rei doesn’t take a step back in the slightest. “That,” Rei flatly says, “was unnecessary. Stay down there and then maybe I’ll consider listening to you.”

 

With a displeased gurgle, Eichi cracks his neck back into place, slowly pushing himself up again. “Oops,” he breathes, his eyes flicking up. “That hurt, you piece of shit. Don’t suppose you’ve seen the drude this morning, huh?”

 

“Come here,” Kanata quietly urges, grabbing Natsume—currently frozen with anger—by the arm to pull him back when he looks for a moment like he might unthaw and murder Eichi on the spot.

 

“Gross,” Kaoru remarks, his fingers clenching and unclenching on the hilt of his sword. “Say what you have to say fast. Or we’re going to find out how much of you is slayable by the very tools you helped to create, demon.”

 

“Less than you’d think,” Eichi breezily says. “Be polite to your ancestors, brat, or I’ll remind you of how to really swing that sword. Anyway—I ask because _my_ real paladin went to complete his holy mission, and somehow, the drude is gone. I tried giving you a friendly poke, Rei, but you were probably in such an opium-induced haze that you didn’t hear me.”

 

“Or my wards worked.”

 

“There’s that, I suppose.”

 

Rei doesn’t take his eyes off of Eichi, though his head does tilt in Kaoru’s direction. “You haven’t sensed the thing this morning, have you, Kaoru?”

 

“I assumed that the Hilbrandt reject was more capable than I thought,” Kaoru says, tense and watching Eichi for a single excuse. “Apparently my first instinct was a lot more accurate. Are you sure he didn’t just tip off the drude so he could look less stupid for losing?”

 

“I can assure you, he did not,” Eichi drawls, slowly picking himself up back to his feet—or starting to, before Rei swiftly tightens every last magical string still attached to him, yanking him back down again. “Ow,” he complains. “That hurts, you know!”

 

“Good. You should’ve thought about before barging into my house unannounced.”

 

Eichi sighs, tilting his head back. “Well, the _point_ of my concern is this,” he begins. “If the drude is gone…he’s up to something. There are only a few places he could go.”

 

“Why should we care?” Kaoru asks. “The only reason I cared about him is because you used him to kill a shitload of people. If he’s gone rogue, maybe he’s gone back to the Depths. Fuck that guy.”

 

“He wouldn’t go back to the Depths.”

 

Eichi’s words are certain. “And he hasn’t released his hold on Nagisa. If he had, I’d have my sword.”

 

Rei pauses, then takes a step back, abruptly reaching out. _Ritsu._

 

“Ahh, there’s your brain starting to work. Never before noon for nymphs.” Eichi glances around Rei, and offers Kanata a smile. “Good morning.”

 

“No,” Kanata flatly says, much like how someone would scold a jumping dog.

 

A wave of urgency comes to Rei from Ritsu, flooding over him. _There’s something here. Something…not right. Rei! It’s—_

 

“This Nagisa doesn’t seem to be very well-trained,” Kaoru says, head cocked. “Are you sure he’s worth the trouble?”

 

_Ritsu? Ritsu! Pay attention to me, focus and tell me what’s happening._

 

“No,” Eichi wearily says. “He’s not. But you know, needs must, when I need to climb my way up from the Depths because _someone_ —“

 

“Eichi,” Rei interrupts, abruptly snapping the magic keeping him bound to the floor. “Is it using the Sorrow’s Gate? Or the actual Shadowlands gates to go in and out?”

 

Eichi’s head cocks, and he slowly rises to his feet. “The Shadowlands. Like I said…it doesn’t want to see the Depths for a long, long time.”

 

“What does it want, though?” Kaoru asks, trying to follow the situation as it shifts rapidly, watching Rei’s face for a clue. “How long has it had Nagisa? Does he know what it wants?”

 

_I—I’m trying to—there’s something attacking, it’s after Izumi, I can’t talk I have to fight!_

 

Completely ignoring Kaoru, Rei briskly strides to the door, flinging it open. “Hokuto!” he barks, making the man in question jump where he stands on the doorstep. “Give me your sword.”

 

“Eh? But—“

 

“Now.”

 

Warily, Hokuto hands it over, and Rei dangles it just out of reach of Eichi’s immediately hungry gaze. “You can use this,” he lowly says, “and keep it, for a time. But only if you listen to me right now, and look me in the eye as I say it.”

 

Eichi’s eyes flick up from the sword, locking with Rei’s. “…I’m listening.”

 

“That drude is after Izumi. There’s an open passageway to the Shadowlands, fourteen miles north of here, five paces past the dead sycamore tree.”

 

Eichi pauses, something akin to annoyance flickering over his face before it goes stony, and he stalks forward, snatching the Heavensword from his grasp. “We’ll reconvene shortly, go deal with Hiyori,” he flatly says, before he’s gone, in a blaze of darkfire.

 

_I’m sending help. Don’t question it._

 

“Kaoru, with me,” Rei briskly says, striding out of the cottage with a sharp wave for Kaoru to follow him.

 

“You _can’t_ be serious,” Natsume abruptly manages, ripping away from Kanata to dart after Rei. “Letting _him_ deal with that thing—“

 

“He has the most to lose and I’d rather it be his head that rolls,” Rei sharply interrupts, turning back around to face him. “Don’t question me right now, go back inside. Kaoru!”

 

“Here,” Kaoru says immediately, and starts heading for the stables, where Honor is chewing resolutely on a mouthful of grain mash. “You riding one of your demon steeds? Are we killing archdemons, or helping them? Catch me up on the way.”

 

 _It’s a drude._ Ritsu’s voice is shaken, but determined. _And something else. The baby’s coming. Like…now._

 

_What terrible timing. I’m sending you help, and for the second time, don’t question it._

 

“Killing, unless I’m _very_ convinced otherwise,” Rei shortly says, ignoring the pinned ears of Ritsu, his tall, leggy black mare when he simply opens her stall door and swings aboard her bare back straight from the ground as she threatens to bolt off.

 

Kaoru debates throwing some armor onto Honor, but decides against it as Rei throws himself into the air, or at least onto a horse so fast that’s what it looks like. He quickly unlatches the stall door, grabbing Honor by the halter and swapping it for a bridle as fast as hundreds of years of skill allows, and saddles the big stallion just as quickly, swinging up and into the saddle as he kicks him into a canter, then immediately a gallop, following the trail of snow kicked up by Rei’s creepy mare. “Go on, you magnificent bastard,” he urges his stallion, leaning up and over his neck, weight balanced in his heels. “Doesn’t that bitch smell good? Get her!”

 

 _…Yeah, I could use the help,_ Ritsu’s voice comes warily. _As long as it comes quick._

 

_Stop waiting until the last minute to even think of telling me things! How am I supposed to ever help you?!_

 

It’s a stressed, worthless plea, and the idea of leaving Ritsu in Eichi’s hands gives Rei hives. Teeth gritted against the cold, whipping wind, he kicks his mare forward until she’s little more than a black streak across a white backdrop, her hooves barely even touching the slick ground as she crosses over the pass.

 

It isn’t until they nearly reach the other side that she comes to an abrupt stop, rearing half-way up and kicking out at the sight of a man standing in the snow, wearing—

 

“A Nooncloak,” Rei mutters, unfazed by the horse’s antics, his hands fisted into her mane as she tosses her head, snorting. “Jun, wasn’t it?”

 

“Neither of you are going further,” Jun says, definitely too calm while facing a Nightcloak, let alone the thundering hooves of Kaoru’s approaching stallion. “His Highness commands it.”

 

“Oh?” Kaoru asks, riding up alongside Rei, keeping Honor carefully out of the demon horse’s reach. “His Highness, huh? Who exactly would that be? And—listen, I don’t mean to be rude, no one likes coming into a play in the third act, but who the fuck are you?”

 

“His Highness’ attendant.”

 

“This is the one I lied about having captured before to make Hiyori talk,” Rei says, his gaze flicking back to Kaoru briefly. “All right, Lord Sensitive. You yell at me all the time for _my_ thralls, but when an archdemon does it…”

 

“I’m just catching up,” Kaoru complains. “Listen, kid. Run on home. And when we kill your master, you’ll be free. What do you mean when an archdemon does it, Rei? Like I’m happy about this?”

 

“I expected you to, I don’t know, bless him with your holy light and bring an end to his suffering—“

 

The abrupt burst of wizard’s fire that spans the entire breadth of the pass cuts Rei off, and he heaves a long sigh, shooting Kaoru a dark look. “See, you _could_ have blessed him or whatever it is that paladins do.”

 

“It’s not that easy!” Kaoru protests, looking injured. “If it was, don’t you think we wouldn’t be that concerned about thralls? Ugh. Do we know anything about this guy? And who is this king he’s talking about? I’m assuming it’s the archdemon?”

 

“It was easy when my thrall on Mao is concerned and you’re ready to ‘take it off at any time,’” Rei sourly says. “And no, I know nothing about him, except that he’s a Nooncloak. ‘His Highness’ absolutely means Hiyori, who I am just going to murder now.” He pauses, glancing up the side of the mountain. “What I’m going to do is going to cause an avalanche and block us off from the other side of the pass,” he calmly says. “Think you can handle being away from your dragon for a bit?”

 

“Just as well as you do being away from your tailor,” Kaoru says with a grin, and thumbs open the catch on his sword, freeing it from its sheath. “Can you take care of Hiyori if I deal with his thrall?”

 

“Of course. And for the record,” Rei tosses over his shoulder, batting his eyelashes as dozens of roots rising up from the pass and side of the mountain turn to hundreds, making the snow buckle and spray and the mountain rumble threateningly, “I do _terribly_ away from my tailor, so that was not reassuring!”

 

Jun yelps as his own footing is suddenly lost, and Rei kicks his mare forward, straight through the wizard’s fire as if it’s not even there. He lets her pick the path, leaping her way through and over the huge roots that spring up from the ground. “Good luck!”

 

The urge to reach out and check on Ritsu is strong, but stronger is the desire to be _done_. His mare gallops forward until it nearly feels like they’ve hit a brick wall of warding magic, heavy and thick and distinctly demonic. It almost, _almost_ feels like the Shadowlands—if he squints and pretends.

 

But it isn’t—it’s just the old Sena estate.

 

“Come out, Your Highness,” he calls, his horse half-rearing again. “Or we’ll have a repeat of our conversation in the Capital very soon!”

 

“Jun!” comes the shrill, despairing wail from inside the walls. “I told you to keep them out! I believe I said _under no circumstances_ did I want to deal with this today!”

 

After a few moments, realizing that he’s not being heard by the intended recipient, Hiyori sighs, and climbs out from the tower rubble, his hands in the air. “I have no intention of forcing a duel between us today, King of Demons,” he says, drawing himself up to his full height, hair whipping wildly around his face as he raises his voice to be heard over the avalanche. “I’m willing to talk. More willing than you’d realize.”

 

“Where is your mate?” Rei tosses back. “Is he also willing, or is he off with the drude, wrecking havoc on my home?”

 

Hiyori’s face is grim. “He’s here. Locked up, actually, as soon as Eichi left, because Eichi was _stupid_ enough to come in here ranting about how Ibara was gone, and of course Nagisa…ugh. He’s here, though, and I think he’s forgotten about that thing for the time being. Honestly! Don’t you have paladins on your side? Kill that thing, it’s bad! Eichi promised he would, that’s the only reason I’m _here_ , but he didn’t do it either!”

 

“According to him, it’s because your mate won’t hand over his sword,” Rei says, watching the sparks that fly every single time his mare paws at the ground too close to their shields. “No matter. I gave him another one, though employing my enemies isn’t my favorite. Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you and Nagisa both right now, after what you did to _my_ prophet.”

 

“I didn’t do that,” Hiyori says quickly. “And neither did Jun, ask your prophet, we didn’t want any part of that! Eichi’s obsessed—listen, he’s ruined our lives just like he has yours, don’t you know the way he works by now?”

 

“If you’re trying to tell me you weren’t involved at all, then you’re calling my prophet a liar,” Rei says, eyebrows raising. “Last chance to drop your shields and let me in for a proper conversation before I break them, and then break you.”

 

Hiyori swallows. “I won’t let you in if you’re here to kill my mate,” he warns. “He’s…lost right now. And you’re not in the Shadowlands. I’ve been hiding my true powers from everyone, but I promise you, if you go after him, I will _wreck_ your body, your mind, and your soul, until the last ragged shreds of what I leave behind are begging for mercy.”

 

Then he drops his shields. “I made tea.”

 

Rei’s mare lets out a hiss that sounds more at home with a snake than any horse, and Rei gives her neck a pat before sliding off of her and into the snow. “If you think I’m _so_ inexperienced with archdemons, I implore you to reconsider,” Rei says, making his way through the snow. “But we’re going to be civil, unless you give me a reason to be otherwise.”

 

“You’re going to be patient with him,” Hiyori says, eyes flashing daggers, even as he keeps his hands in view. “You’re going to remember that not only humans get attacked by demons.”

 

“You’re going to remember,” Rei lowly warns, “that you’re both uninvited guests. Hiyori, you should be very aware of my policies. Well-behaved denizens of the Shadowlands _have_ been allowed to exist in the human realm—but they need to adapt to human behaviors and laws. None of you have done that.” 

 

“I was dragged up here by Eichi,” Hiyori protests. “I didn’t know he was eaten up inside! He tricked me! He—he’s not what he used to be. He’s not who I thought I was following. Nagisa, either. You of all people should know…how he used to be.”

 

“That will only go so far with me right now. Let’s go inside, I’ll have some of that tea.”

 

“Everyone is so mean to me,” Hiyori mutters, and lets Rei inside, offering him a steaming cup by the fire. “Nagisa’s in the cellar. Do you want to talk to him, or just keep yelling at me instead of being constructive?”

 

“I’m not yelling at you,” Rei mildly says, taking a seat as if he owns the place, legs neatly crossed. “I’m just tired of the same excuses from demons that I’ve heard from Eichi. Try to understand my position for a moment, Hiyori, and explain to me why, even though you claim to hate Eichi’s character and methods, you still follow him.”

 

“You say you’re experienced with archdemons, but you ask me that?” Hiyori asks, blinking. “He had my _mate_. And I don’t hate him! Or rather…I don’t hate who he used to be. But I was given to him on loan for a while. There wasn’t much I could do, he’s stronger than me. You’re a demon, you know how allegiances work. And no one _stronger_ ever tried to court me.” He glares. “They just beat me up and called me names.”

 

“From what I had been told—your _mate_ was the one dragging Eichi around by the balls, because apparently, he wouldn’t hand over his sword.” Rei shrugs a shoulder. “You can see why I’m questioning you. I understand how allegiances work, but if we’re talking about archdemon hierarchy, I was under the assumption that if you wanted to hightail it out and return to your mate, you could have.”

 

“Um, that’s a wrong assumption,” Hiyori says, staring at him. “Because if I could have, I _would_ have. I tried! When he tried to force me to kill the queen and her friend, and I made sure they were alive when I left them! I hid that from him, he almost killed me!”

 

Rei leans forward, hands wrapped around his teacup. “That sort of information,” he says, “would have been _very_ useful to tell someone like me. Though I’d like to know _why_ someone like you would want to keep Izumi alive.”

 

“…Because I thought killing him would make Nagisa sad,” Hiyori says quietly, and leans against the wall, grabbing his own cup. “Because I…because I’m an archdemon, and he’s not, and I hate seeing the look on his face when he thought better of me, and I couldn’t give him that. My whole world has been upside down recently, you know? And you’re not helping at all. Not once—not _once_ did I ever think I could go to you for help getting Nagisa out. You’ve always been very clear that you want me to be terrified of you, that you’re going to kill my favorite wizard if I misbehave, that you’re not above torture and murder. Well, congratulations, I’ve believed you. It doesn’t make me want to tell you things!”

 

“Forgive me if I lack sympathy when you’ve done little but terrorize my own, and bring back the creature that tortured my own mate for years,” Rei says, unfazed. “If you really wanted assistance, you would’ve sought it out. Isolating yourself and chasing after Eichi, supposedly hating all of his plans yet going along with them—I understand oaths, loans, whatever. This is your _mate_ that needed help, and I have made my plans of getting rid of the drude _very clear_ from the moment I heard about it. If you want to be thought of less like a mindless archdemon, then try to reason less like one. For starter—explain to me why Nagisa isn’t one.”

 

“Why bother?” Hiyori asks bitterly. “You don’t care about anything I have to say, you’re only interested in telling me I’m worthless and should have broken all of my pacts, no matter if my mate’s life was on the line.”

 

“I didn’t say you were worthless. I said you went about it the wrong way. And as far as I know, there was nothing about your mate’s life being on the line—as an outside observer, Eichi has done nothing threatening towards him, and drudes don’t kill their hosts.”

 

“He’s not an archdemon,” Hiyori says softly. “Archdemons like me are born in the Depths. Our first breath is darkness. Nagisa’s mother was a prophet. She lived in the light. He was only dragged down afterwards, in the War of the Old Gods.”

 

“I see. Then all the more reason the drude needs to be pulled from him.” Rei pauses, mulling that over, and finally says, “I’m scolding you because you _need_ to hear it. Eichi obviously hasn’t given you any guidance _or_ discipline in the correct way, and has led you to this point. Believe it or not, but we seem to have a similar goal…and I’m not adverse to helping you further.”

 

Hiyori lets out a slow breath, and chugs half of his tea at once. “All right. Even if…even if you always hate me, you should try to help him. I mean, don’t kill me, either! But I agree. And I will do just about anything to get that thing killed. Eichi promised to do it, but he’s gone back on that a hundred times.”

 

“Mm. He wants to. He can’t, apparently, without his sword.” Rei takes a slow sip of his tea. “If we help you, then you’re going to do something for me. Both you and your mate.”

 

“Obviously, I’m not expecting help for free. But I’m not going to commit him to anything right now, he’s…in a delicate kind of state.”

 

“It’s not a difficult task. It requires you both, head to the ground, apologizing to my prophet. _After_ we’re done with this, of course.”

 

“Oh. Sure.” Hiyori shrugs. “Jun will, too. He really…really hated that.”

 

“Jun can do as he wants. I’m not holding him responsible for any of this, considering he’s your thrall.”

 

“Yeah,” Hiyori says cheerfully. “But he still really hated it. I didn’t make him…we both left. But I’m happy to apologize for it. Oh, and to some more people you can think of, I’m sure. So. You want to meet him?”

 

Rei almost tells Hiyori about how Kaoru is absolutely decimating that thrall, and how he’s going to need to learn how that is _not_ acceptable, but he’s already been scolding the idiot an _awful_ lot…and it’s early yet. “Yes. I would.”

 

“All right. Just…remember what I told you.” Hiyori frowns, and slides open the door to the cellar, revealing the stairs. “He’s not himself right now.”

 

All things considered, it will be interesting to see if that’s a good or a bad thing.

 

Rei picks himself up, and descends the stairs carefully, the silent coil of his own power always in hand. “Nagisa,” he greets the darkness, his eyes adjusting in short order. “It’s about time we finally met.”

 

A tall man, broad-shouldered and beautifully muscled, sits in the middle of the cellar, his legs crossed, a sword resting unsheathed upon them. “Are you here to ask for my blessing?” he asks, eyes lidded. “Or to invoke your right to my aid?”

 

“Neither, actually.”

 

Rei’s eyes flick to the sword, which he now somewhat jarringly recalls resting almost _always_ at Eichi’s bedside. _Don’t touch it_ , Eichi had dismissively told him. _Or you’ll be in for a bad time._

 

“We haven’t met…or if we have, it was quite awhile ago. My name is Rei, of the Sakuma Bloodbred. The Demon King.”

 

“I don’t recall,” Nagisa says, after a brief pause. “Welcome. I will not shake your hand, lest I disrupt your careful workings. My touch can undo the work of demons.”

 

 _That’s new,_ Hiyori mouths at Rei, looking vaguely worried.

 

“Oh? Can it?” Rei mildly asks, offering his hand anyway. “I’m curious to find out if that’s really the case. I’ve touched many a paladin, and never had that occur—that _is_ what you think you are, right?”

 

Nagisa gives him a benevolent smile. “Perhaps that is easier for you to understand, my friend. I am one of the Progenitors, the closest thing to an Old God you mortals can comprehend.”

 

“And yet you cling to a paladin sword that isn’t yours? Do Old Gods need those?”

 

“It has been…entrusted to me,” Nagisa says, after another brief pause. “To keep it from doing further harm.”

 

“The last thing it did was kill a drude. Was that harmful, in your opinion?”

 

Nagisa cocks his head slightly. “Demon King, do you think a being is responsible for its own actions? Or is nature responsible?”

 

“Nice deflection,” Rei drawls, folding his arms over his chest. “I see the drude’s hold is strong on you yet. Both play a factor, of course, but some beings can’t help the evil within them. A drude is one of them. If that evil comes to play in the human world, there’s nothing that can be done except destroy it.”

 

“Then you should destroy it, Demon King,” Nagisa says, and offers his hand. “Will you risk your spells, and be my confidant?”

 

“Only a paladin’s sword, wielded by its rightful owner, can slay the drude. If that were me…well, it would’ve been done already.” Rei pauses, and offers his own hand again. “The Old Gods were silenced for a reason,” he simply says. “If you harm me, I’ll remember it.”

 

“The Old Gods dragged each other into the void,” Nagisa replies evenly, and clasps Rei’s hand, gentle power thrumming warm and low through it. “Some out of revenge, some out of desire to protect humankind and demonkind alike. You are both our children.”

 

Rei waits a moment for his magic to be undone, or for…anything to happen, really. Nothing, of course, except for the undertones of Nagisa’s magic thrumming about. _Feels like archdemon_ , he almost quips, but bites his tongue. He’s willing to admit he knows fuck all about the Old Gods. “Mmm. Is that so. Then, I wonder…if you have such strength, why keep that drude at your side?”

 

“I…” Nagisa’s voice grows distant, troubled. “I do not know. I should ask Ibara.”

 

There’s no reasoning with someone taken by a drude. Rei knows that much. That doesn’t make it any less frustrating, though he doesn’t let that show on his face. “How long have you known Ibara?” he asks instead. “Far before you came here, I assume?”

 

“…Twenty seasons, as reckoned by the leaves,” Nagisa says slowly. “Twelve, since I…felt myself begin to change.”

 

“So not long yet.” Rei leans back, his eyes lidded. “Nagisa…do you want to be free of him?”

 

“Of course he does,” Hiyori snaps.

 

Nagisa’s head tilts, his eyes clouded. “What is freedom?”

 

“You’re not helping,” Rei lightly tells Hiyori as he crouches in front of Nagisa, and the channel of his own power switches, bringing the dirt floor in the cellar to almost rise and shift courtesy of seeds attempting to come to the surface. “Freedom,” he quietly says, reaching out to lay a hand on the sword in Nagisa’s lap, “would be not having that thing flinch when you swing this around too hastily. Freedom would be not hurting the descendants of your mother’s own blood.”

 

The clouds clear for a moment, and Nagisa flinches, a hint of real pain on his pale, sculpted face. “The prophet,” he whispers, sounding more like himself than he has in days. “The drude…held me fast, when he…tell me the prophet lives.”

 

“He does. But you know that you _cannot_ let the drude harm someone like that again,” Rei lowly, insistently says, looking up to meet Nagisa’s eyes. “It’s not in your nature, and you can’t let yourself succumb to him any longer.”

 

 _Succumb_.

 

The word whispers in Nagisa’s ear, serpentine and slithering, easing, urging him to whatever path that streak of red chooses for him.

 

_But that poor child…he screamed…_

 

_Succumb, Your Majesty…all you have to do…_

 

“Nagisa,” Hiyori whispers, kneeling down next to him. “I can see you fighting it. You are the strongest creature I’ve ever known. You were born in the light, raised in the light…you’re the best part of me. Don’t let him take it.”

 

“Nagisa,” Rei urgently presses. “You don’t have to fight this alone. I don’t expect you to—no one else does, either. But you _have_ to return this sword. Let Eichi absolve himself of some of _his_ wrongdoing with it.”

 

“But…in the wrong hands…” Nagisa looks down at the sword in his hand, his expression warring with itself. “This sword has done things…great, and terrible. Keep it safe, until Ibara says it’s time to use it, that’s what…”

 

“It _is_ time to use it. But it isn’t yours, not now—on my word as the Demon King, it will _not_ be used for anything but good from now on.”

 

“I’m to trust the word of a Demon with the sword of the first Paladin?” Nagisa asks, eyes flickering. “I do not know you. I do not know the value of your word. This is infinitely precious, and must be entrusted to the most powerful deity in the world.”

 

“If I was just a demon, could I actually be touching this sword right now?” It’s an annoying question, actually, because it unfortunately makes him think about Eichi’s own origins too much. “Nagisa. You can’t do this yourself.”

 

The whispers in Nagisa’s ear grow louder, more eager, until he gasps, and shoves the sword’s hilt at Rei. “Take it,” he grits out, face turned away, as Ibara’s furious hiss builds in his ears, louder and louder, prophesysing doom, gloom, and destruction if he lets go of it. “Quickly…”

 

Rei snatches it away, fingers closed about the hilt as he rises to his feet and takes a hurried step back, lest Nagisa thing about grabbing it back from him. “I _promise_ ,” he says, “that we will help you and yours. Thank you for trusting me, and—not to be rude, but I’m going, before you change your mind.”

 

Nagisa’s eyes go wide, and he shoots to his feet, suddenly more clear than he’s felt in ages. “The prince,” he says, voice ringing. “Ibara’s gone to take the prince, not to kill, to turn!”

 

“The prince, hmm? Lucky for the realm, I already sent Eichi.” Rei quickly turns for the stairs. “With a less than adequate blade for him, but hopefully, it’s a decent replacement in the meantime. I need to get this to him sooner, rather than later.”

 

“Eichi can do more with that blade than any other paladin!” Nagisa’s eyes are bright, almost feverish, and he clutches his stomach, groaning softly. Hiyori runs to him, bracing him, holding him up. “He can split mountains with it, if he thinks it’s right. He can slay immortal beings.”

 

“Good! Then let’s see him do it.” Rei spares one last glance to the two of them. “I _will_ be back,” he firmly says. “Don’t misbehave in the meantime, and we’ll talk about your futures here.”

 

Rei darts from the crumbling estate, out into the snow again, sword in hand. His mare immediately shies backward, teeth bared and ears pinned at the mere sight of the sword, let alone the idea of Rei coming _near_ her with it. “You piece of shit horse,” he grinds out. _Kaoru!_

 

“I’m here!” comes a faint voice. Hoofbeats thunder, and a couple of minutes later, Kaoru rides up on Honor, Jun’s limp body over his saddlehorn. “I had to knock him out, but he’s alive. Holy shit, is that Sorrow’s Heart? _The_ Sorrow’s Heart?”

 

“Apparently, judging by how my horse hates it— _never_ say I’m not a hell of a diplomat, by the way,” Rei grinds out, dodging a swift kick from his squealing, shrieking mare. “Ditch the wizard and give me a hand up, we’re going to the Shadowlands.”

 

Kaoru stares at the blade for another second, then unceremoniously dumps Jun onto the snow, hauling Rei up to ride pillion. “You’re lucky this saddle still had a pillion pad. You’re still going to hate this in the morning, though.”

 

“I’ll live. Do you wanna touch it?” Rei teases, even as he clutches tightly to the sword like his life depends on it. “You complete fanboy.”

 

“Is that really okay?” Kaoru asks, more eagerly than he probably should, as he kicks Honor into motion. He might start slow, but the big stallion has a gallop he can hold for twenty minutes while carrying a man in plate, and he can last at canter for an hour under encouragement.

 

“It doesn’t seem to mind me, though I did switch which magic I was touching it with, just in case,” Rei wryly admits, bracing himself for a moment before he relaxes with a sigh. “He’s a much smoother ride than Ritsu, thank goodness. Anyway, straight to the border—I need to hand this off to Eichi.” His jaw sets. “For better or for worse.”

 

Kaoru shakes his head slowly, and takes the sword from Rei, grinning like an idiot. “Things sure do change in the blink of an eye, huh?”

 

“Apparently,” Rei drawls, leaning against Kaoru’s back as he tips forward with each rolling stride. “But I, fortunately, plan for such things.”

 

“By…arming them?”

 

“Eichi can do anything with this sword. That’s not what I’m planning for. I’m _planning_ for the aftermath. Now shut up and make this nag go faster.”

 

“Hey! Honor won four constitution awards when he was just a colt! Don’t call him a nag!” Kaoru leans forward, scowling as he knees Honor into a faster canter. “ _You’re_ a nag.”

 

“Maybe. But you’re going to kiss me later, with or without your fucking bond.”

 

Eichi, meanwhile, does not approve of the tiny entryway Rei has left for him.

 

It’s small enough, subtle enough, _annoying_ enough that only someone that knows Rei’s magic as well as he does would be able to find it. Slipping through that tear in the worlds makes the sky immediately shift to night, the air heavy and fragrant, and the entire layout of magic within the world…so, _so_ different.

 

And currently, troublingly unstable.

 

He doesn’t have time for this.

 

Heavensword feels…adequate, in his hand, but not the same. A stride forward into the Shadowlands, and the desire to _cut_ that instability with it grows, making his fingers clench.

 

_Hey, Ritsu. Throw me a line to where your brother’s castle is hidden now, would you?_

 

There’s a moment of startled silence. Then, finally, _Eichi? Like…really? He sent you?_

 

_Who else?_

 

_I mean…yeah, okay, good fucking point. Follow this._

 

A line of power spirals out, deft and quick, lashing to a tree a handsbreadth away from where Eichi’s standing.

 

Eichi catches it, twirling it around one finger, and follows the line like it’s a lasso around him.

 

_I’ll be there soon._

 

Rei’s castle is still looming in spite of the impending, lingering threat, and Eichi is careful as he approaches, the familiar, but still strange _oppressiveness_ that the drude brings setting his teeth on edge.

 

_Ritsu, I’m—_

 

“You? _Here?_ ”

 

It’s a startled scoff, and Eichi whips around, sword in hand. Ibara stands behind him, eyebrows raised over his spectacles. “ _That’s_ not your sword,” he says, sounding delightfully amused.

 

The drude’s power rips through the ground, tripping every single ward about the castle, trying to tear through them once again as Eichi finds himself thrown back, back slamming hard against the main castle gates with a grunt.

 

_Ritsu—can you get Izumi out of here?_

 

_No. He’s in labor._

 

There’s a feeling like a breath being sucked in, then, _I’ll be right there. With help._

 

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Mr. Makes Fun of my Sword and Tries to Have Me Killed,” Arashi says, twirling said sword in his hand before striding out of the castle gates, followed by Ritsu, clad in shadowed armor complete with a slender, black-bladed sword of his own. Arashi’s neck is still a mottled mess, looking as if it had been stitched together none too skillfully, but his expression is a warrior’s grin, grim and fatalistic. “And you’re the motherfucker who wiped out my friends in the North, huh? Somehow, I hate you even more.”

 

Ibara blinks back at Arashi through the black waves of energy rolling off of him. “You…who the fuck are you? Whatever. I don’t care.”

 

“Not what I asked for, Ritsu,” Eichi says darkly, stepping in front of both of them, one arm swung out to block their path. “You’ve got one job right now, both of you. Get Izumi the fuck out.”

 

“That’s not happening, dumbass,” Ibara cheerfully says, taking a measured stride forward, the heat of the fire lingering about his feet almost enough to singe the ends of Eichi’s hair. “I’ve got a deadline.”

 

Eichi flicks one eye back towards Ritsu and Arashi, then decides to chance it. Lunging forward, he fully expects the drude to move, and he does, diving forward and around Eichi, power blazing.

 

He does _not_ expect Eichi to stick his hand straight into that blaze, however, and grab him by the cloak.

 

It burns, straight through his skin, straight through to the bone, but Eichi ignores it, throwing the creature back, slamming him onto his back and then stalking after him, ignoring the blood and flesh dripping down his right arm. “Didn’t like that, did you, you little shit?” he bites out, and the Heavensword swiftly finds a home, straight through Ibara’s chest.

 

Ibara shrieks and arches, kicking and squirming like an animal skewered alive before going still, slumping down, and then slowly dissipating, melting into a deep red slime.

 

Eichi waits, then rips the sword out of the ground, chest heaving. “He’ll be back,” he says, whipping his head back around. “Where the fuck is Izumi?”

 

“What do you mean,” Arashi asks, aghast, “he’ll be back?”

 

“In the sanctum,” Ritsu says, cutting Arashi off and nodding back to the castle. “I’m confused about the sequence of events, but really glad you came. Come in, I’ll fix up your arm.”

 

The castle doors open at his thought, ripping with shadows away from the gaping chasm that is the entrance to his domain. “With Mika, and the closest thing I could find to a midwife.”

 

“The sooner he’s out of here, the better,” Eichi says, sparing another, wary glance behind himself. “I don’t know how fast Ibara’s going to come back, but the Heavensword isn’t going to cut it in keeping him dead. Hello, by the way,” he lightly adds, offering first Ritsu, then Arashi a disarming smile, which doesn’t quite mesh with being blood-splattered and with an arm sloughing off.

 

Arashi turns to follow, then pauses at Ritu’s hand motion. “Guard the door.”

 

Arashi breathes a sigh of relief, and turns to do exactly that.

 

“He threw up when Izumi started crowning,” Ritsu confides in Eichi, bringing shadows to wrap around his arm, starting to ease the tattered skin back together. “A few times. And told him his body was disgusting. That’s when they asked him to leave.”

 

“Weak,” Eichi sighs, his eyes lidding in obvious relief at the careful attention. “I can’t believe I’m related to that. Ahh, you’re a good boy. Thank you. I’ll answer your questions, but this was rather spur of the moment…”

 

“How come my brother is suddenly not trying to kill you?” Ritsu asks, more curious than anything as his shadow-maggots eat the dead skin, shadow-silkworms spinning thread to keep the edges together. “I have a bone to pick with you later, Arashi and Izumi are my favorite people I’m not bonded to.”

 

“Your brother heard that the drude was knocking on _your_ doorstep,” Eichi murmurs, leaning down closer to Ritsu’s height. “And he’s a bit of a soft-hearted creature, lest you forget. You can pick your bones with me all you like, though.”

 

“I will, once this is dealt with.” Ritsu frowns. “I’m mad. I could have been happy with you right now. Eichi, I could have been _so_ sweet to you.”

 

“What, like you wouldn’t have tried to kill someone to protect your mate?” Eichi sniffs. “I’m here to make up for it.”

 

“You knifed a baby!” Ritsu protests. “I wouldn’t have done that unless the baby was trying to kill my mate!”

 

“I had my reasons. I told you, I’m here to make up for it.”

 

Ritsu hesitates, then nods. “All right. What do you want with Izumi? I’m not letting you in there if you’re going to kill his baby.”

 

“I _want_ him away from here. The drude’s after him.” Eichi scowls. “And the baby, is my guess. Either way, I’m not looking forward to dealing with that. That whore prophet had a vision about it that I do _not_ like.”

 

“You prepared to make a vow to protect that child at the expense of your life?” Ritsu asks, head cocked. “Otherwise, you’re waiting outside, too.”

 

Eichi’s mouth twitches. “You’re cute when you’re this protective. It’s a good look on you.”

 

The door swings open, producing a weary, and somewhat bloody-handed Mika, who stops dead at the—well, ‘sight’ isn’t the right word, but the simple _existence_ of Eichi standing there. “…You,” he hisses, magic immediately kicking up at his feet.

 

“Ah ah, not when there’s children about,” Eichi sweetly says, holding up his still-healing hand. “I’m here to h—“

 

“Ritsu. What the fuck.”

 

Ritsu turns in a flash, grabbing Eichi by the chest and shoving him down the corridor. “I told you to make a vow,” he says, voice flat. “Now you don’t get my friends to help.” With that, the healing shadows leave Eichi’s hand, letting all the pain rush back.

 

“Ow, ow, ow,” Eichi whines, sounding rather like a kicked puppy than the wizard-paladin that just temporarily killed a drude. “That huuuurts! Ritsu, I’ll make a vow, I’ll make a vow! Damn it, be nice to me, I’m here to help you, too!”

 

“I’m not my brother,” Ritsu says, voice rough, eyes dark. “I’m not nice like him. And I’ve been the King here for a long time. Remember that when you talk to me.” He waves a hand, and the shadows rise again, twining around Eichi’s arm.

 

“…Sexier than you probably meant it to be, but okay,” Eichi mutters, shaking out his arm again with a shiver. “I swear I’ll protect that child at the expense of my life. All right?”

 

“Nope,” Mika tosses after them, reaching to pull the door shut. “Not good enough.”

 

“Listen up, you weird little—“

 

“It’s fine, Mika. I heard him.”

 

Izumi’s voice is low and irritated, and it’s a few, careful steps before he makes it to the door, looking worse for wear wrapped in Mika’s cloak, still female, and with a thoroughly swaddled newborn baby attached to one breast. “Literally go fuck yourself,” he bluntly says to Eichi.

 

“It was a misstep, I acknowledge that,” Eichi lightly says, holding up his hands placatingly. “I was too riled up at the time to think clearly, and preservation of my mate was of the utmost—“

 

“Nope. Say it like you’re a person, or you can _really_ go fuck yourself.”

 

Eichi hesitates, then scowls, eyes flicking about to the veritable audience they have. “Not in _front_ of—“

 

“Yeah. Like in front of everyone.”

 

“We’re going to die from a drude because of this,” Eichi mutters, hesitating again, and again, before finally, begrudgingly, letting his knees hit the ground, then his forehead, in the deepest, most apologetic pose he can think of. “I’m…sorry.”

 

A muscle in Izumi’s jaw twitches. “For?”

 

“…attempting to kill you and your child and also my descendent.”

 

“I’m not thrilled, but it is satisfying to see you on the fucking ground,” Izumi grouses. “Arashi. Anything else you want out of him right now?”

 

Arashi’s blond head pokes around the door, and he smiles, obviously enjoying the sight. “Hm. Well, I don’t think a promise would do anything to ease my mind when he’s such a dick, and so good about getting around them, so…make him say, ‘I’m an idiot, and I have a tiny prick.’”

 

Ritsu stares at him. “Really?”

 

Arashi shrugs. “He ripped my throat out, and now I’m ugly. Let me have one joy in life. I know it’s a small one.”

 

“You dumb bitch, you’re not ugly,” Izumi exasperatedly says. “I already told you—as soon as I’m back to being a hundred percent, I’m going to fix you up more, and—owwww, don’t chew on it, fuck!” he hisses down at his child, looking all the world like ‘motherhood’ is the opposite of what he desires.

 

“ _I_ didn’t rip it out, technically,” Eichi says, lifting his head from the ground. “So, um, for accuracy’s sake…oh, hey, so, is that a boy, or a girl, and—“

 

“You don’t get to know until you say what Arashi wants.”

 

“…Are you absolutely fucking serious?” Eichi deadpans.

 

Izumi stares back at him, unflinching.

 

“While you’re at it,” Mika lowly, unhappily chimes in, “promise t’kill yourself off after this is all over.”

 

Izumi shoots him a look. “Mika.”

 

“Fuckin’ deserves it, if he wasn’t bonded to th’ king.”

 

“I feel like I only asked for one thing,” Arashi complains, sword still in hand, “and someone keeps reminding me that we’re all about to die, so you should probably hurry up and do it so I can get back out there and protect the door.”

 

Ritsu’s mouth twitches. “If that’s all he wants,” he says with a shrug, “that’s a pretty low price. I’d have said he could have you disfigure your face or something. That’s what I’d do if one of my lieutenants did what you did— _and_ didn’t even have the balls to do it himself.”

 

“You can try, but it won’t stick,” Eichi says with a roll of his eyes, then sighs, and drops his head back to the floor. “Fine. I’m an idiot and I have a tiny prick.”

 

“Feel better?” Izumi wryly asks, glancing back to Arashi. “I mean, that was pretty satisfying, on a personal level. Ah…but seriously,” he restlessly says, “I don’t want to be here anymore. Not if this is a battlefield. The Shadowlands were supposed to be safe.”

 

“They were, until not too long ago,” Eichi mutters, slowly picking himself up from the floor. “It’s only now that we’ve got problems. Want a review?”

 

“Quickly.”

 

“Drude’s here, none of you can do anything about it, I can temporarily kill it with this sword, and permanently kill it if I had my own.” His face is grim, devoid of the easy humor he usually has at even the worst of times. “Even Rei can’t kill it. That’s why I’m here; a temporary truce, I think.” 

 

“Plan,” Ritsu says suddenly. “I can get Izumi out through a secure way. Mika, if I put an illusion on you, can you pretend to be Izumi? I’ll magick up a piece of wood to look like a baby in your arms. Eichi, you come with us, Arashi, you guard the fake Izumi.”

 

Arashi’s face, looking smug until a moment ago, now looks stricken. “Splitting up sounds…not that good, though…”

 

“As bad as the drude is, there’s only one of them,” Ritsu assures him. “And I’m going into the heart of the Shadowlands, much deeper than a drude would dare to go. We don’t like them.”

 

“That’s leaving Mika and Arashi to get destroyed,” Izumi immediately protests. “No way. I’m not going to ask them to do that for me.”

 

“This’ll give you a chance t’get away, Izumin,” Mika argues. “And I’m not gonna die that quick. Neither is _kara_ —we can hold our own, at least for a little.”

 

“Mmmn…” Eichi decides not to remark that that’s _truly_ not the case, and fortunately, he’s given a different distraction when Izumi’s baby detaches itself with a gurgle, then a wail. He taps a foot restlessly for a moment, then briskly steps over. “May I?”

 

Izumi eyes him from underneath the mussed fall of his bangs. “…You better not be fucking with me this time,” he lowly warns, then hands over the child.

 

“My plans are ruined, I might as well behave,” Eichi hums, reswaddling he child and smoothing his brilliantly red hair from his face with careful, talonless fingers.

 

Izumi watches him like a hawk for a moment more, then exhales a long, shaky breath, and tentatively shifts back into his true, male body for the first time in months. “Fuck, gods, that feels good,” he groans, cracking his back with a twist. “Boobs are _heavy._ I’m getting dressed, where’s my fucking sword?”

 

“In the wall,” Ritsu says with a smile, reaching into the wall’s buckling shadows, pulling free the long, elegant blade. “Nnh, you’re hot when you’re like this. Can you still feed him like that?”

 

Arashi doesn’t take his eyes off Eichi. “You say that,” he says finally, “but I don’t think you ever had plans. You’re just an opportunist. I think you’ll turn on us happily again if you think there’s profit in it. Be fucking careful with that baby.”

 

“Oh, shut up, you ogre,” Eichi sniffs, turning his back to Arashi in a blatant display of not giving a shit.

 

“Dunno, we’ll find out,” Izumi says with a shrug of a shoulder, taking the sword appreciatively. “Missed being able to carry this without feeling like I’m going to stab my own belly,” he grouses, tossing Mika his cloak back as he stalks back into the room, grabbing up discarded clothing.

 

“I’ll kill ‘im for you, _kara_ ,” Mika lowly says, butting his head into Arashi’s shoulder. “Gimme like…five minutes.”

 

Arashi flashes Mika a smile. “You’re suuuuper scary, _amaka_ ,” he assures Mika. “Besides, I bet the drude won’t expect us to have Cupcake with us. He doesn’t stand a chance.”

 

“I’m also leaving a few sentries on the walls,” Ritsu says quietly, and takes Mika’s chin between his fingers. “Do I have your permission to change you into Izumi? Just temporarily, you’re the only one the drude hasn’t seen.”

 

“…Can you make Cupcake into my baby?” Mika asks, completely serious.

 

“ _That’s_ the question you’re asking,” Izumi flatly shoots back, tying his own cloak on as he stalks out of the room. “Seriously?”

 

Ritsu’s eyes light up. “Oh, that’s _way_ easier than a block of wood,” he says eagerly. “Yeah, bring him up, I’ll change him real quick. Um, just to be clear, certain people shouldn’t touch that kind of thing. It’d be…weird. Heh.”

 

“Got it. Be right back!”

 

Mika darts off, and Izumi shakes his head, disbelieving. “Don’t encourage him about that thing, it’s creepy,” he mutters, his gaze sliding back to Eichi, who looks perfectly content with the kingdom’s new prince in his arms. “Oi. Don’t get too comfortable.”

 

“I’m just being a well-behaved babysitter. Don’t mind me.”

 

“I’ve got a scar because of your ass, too; I can just hide it,” Izumi crossly says, then side-eyes Arashi. “We’re gonna work on fixing that when we’re done here. Or maybe I’ll let it stick, because you couldn’t stop talking about my _hideous body_ —“

 

“That’s a good baby,” Ritsu remarks, looking down at the peaceful, chubby face. “That’s a really unusually handsome baby, Izumi. And red hair! Be excited, you’re a real Queen or whatever!” Then his face falls. “Which means…you’re going back, huh? Once all of this is over. You’re leaving the Shadowlands for good.”

 

“Don’t say ‘for good’,” Arashi protests. “And Izumi, don’t tell him not to encourage Mika, I’d have a lot of scars from capturing and training that creature if you didn’t heal them, at least let him take joy in it!”

 

“You’re pissing me off, not apologizing for telling me I’m _hideous_ ,” Izumi snarls, giving Arashi’s shoulder a hard punch. “Bastard. Ritsu, don’t be dumb. I’ve got a ton of shit to do in the North when this is all said and done, and…well, Rei’s taking over here, right? So that means you get to come stay with _me_.”

 

Ritsu beams. “You’re right. And I don’t think you’re hideous, even if Arashi does.”

 

“I think you’re beautiful _now!_ It’s just the lady stuff that…ah…”

 

“No, when your cunt opened up like a balloon and it looked like you were swallowing a person in reverse? That’s the coolest shit I’ve ever seen,” Ritsu assures him, as Arashi makes soft, sad retching sounds.

 

“…Thanks,” Izumi dryly says, placing a hand upon Ritsu’s shoulder. “Honestly, thank you. But never fucking say that again. I’m a hell of a healer, but thinking about it makes those parts twinge, and I don’t even _have them_ right now.”

 

The baby makes a quiet, sleepy gurgle, and Izumi’s head whips up automatically, eyes slitting before he relaxes again, huffing out a breath. Eichi arches an eyebrow at him.

 

“Listen. I’m allowed to be on guard.”

 

“Not saying you aren’t.”

 

Eichi pauses, then pushes away from the wall, walking over to deposit the baby back into Izumi’s arms. “The best laid plans and all of that…Ritsu, I don’t think we have time to leave a decoy.”

 

Ritsu’s face twists, and the castle itself follows suit, twisting and _buckling_ for a moment, the shadows spinning out from it in a fierce, sudden gale. “I’ll make time. Eichi. You can make the decoys. I’ll hold it off.”

 

“Not a chance.”

 

Eichi grabs him, pulling him back from the sudden bending of a wall that nearly knocks straight into him. It’s then that Mika stumbles back through, visibly distressed. “I can’t find Cupcake—an’ now th’ thing is—“

 

“Back,” Eichi finishes firmly, and grabs Ritsu by the shoulders, holding him at an arm’s length. “Your brother will murder me if you aren’t safe at the end of this,” he bluntly says. “Take Izumi, and take that child, and _go._ As deep as you can. I’ll—“

 

The castle breaks, tearing apart at the seams.

 

In the wind-whipped confusion, Eichi braces himself against the wind simply by stabbing his sword down into the ground. “Go!” he snarls at Ritsu, expecting himself to be obeyed when he grabs Izumi by the arm in a secondary encouragement, physically throwing him back through the open, dark space that is the Shadowlands.

 

What he does not anticipate, however, is the drude seeing through that.

 

Its fingers are spindly, long and white, like something out of every child’s nightmares as it scuttles over, snatching the child from Izumi’s grasp with a merciless yank. The child screams, and Ibara laughs, high-pitched and wild over the wind before taking off back through the darkness— _no, wrong._

 

Back towards the human realm.

 

Eichi’s teeth grit, torn for a brief moment between helping Izumi back to his feet when he’s still clearly not in perfect condition, keeping Ritsu under a watchful eye, and—no, fuck it. First things first. “Light the path back to the human realm for me!” he snaps to Ritsu before taking off after the drude, sword still drawn.

 

Light more intense than any seen in the Shadowlands for a thousand years suddenly flares, bright as the sun, a streak of liquid lightning in Ritsu’s outstretched hands, his face twisted in a grimace of fury. “Kill it!” he shrieks, following after Eichi at a weird, disjointed bound, shadows lengthening his legs, lending them more, more _interesting_ joints, making him leap and twist through the air as he holds the golden sunbeam aloft to guide their way. Together, he and Eichi are far, _far_ faster than any of the others, streaking like the inhuman creatures they are towards the human realm.

 

“That’s not just a drude,” Ritsu snarls, hearing the wind whistle past his ears as he runs. “That’s a drude stuffed with power it _shouldn’t have!_ ”

 

“He’s been feeding on one of my children, that’s why!”

 

The border to the Shadowlands looms ahead, illuminated by Ritsu’s power, and the drude dives through it, just out of Eichi’s reach.

 

Then, suddenly, Ibara stops dead, kicking up snow in the process, the wailing bundle in his grasp never going silent, not once.

 

“You,” Ibara lightly says, holding up his empty hand, “can stop following me now.”

 

Belatedly, Eichi realizes that’s a sentiment meant for Ritsu, and it’s only with a last-second tackle that he flattens Ritsu down into a snowdrift, the vast majority of the snowy plain left where they had been running turned to a melted, sizzling wasteland of burnt earth and slime. “Stay down,” Eichi grunts, dragging himself up again, just in time to see Ibara scale the side of a nearby mountain-turned-glacier, the wind whipping harder than it had in the previous night’s snowstorm.

 

“Is this what you wanted?” Ibara taunts, holding the shrieking child close to his chest. “You came all the way here, but you didn’t think ahead! Now, the child is mine! Back to the Depths with you, but not before I drain you of everything you used to be!”

 

_He’s going to turn it, not kill it._

 

The thought is a sudden, errant realization, and nothing makes Eichi move faster. _If I can just kill him temporarily again, even for another minute—_

 

“Eichi!”

 

Eichi’s head whips back around, and his heart thuds too hard in his chest when the gleaming sight of a very familiar blade flashes over the top of a hill.

 

Honor’s stride is huge, thank the gods, and Rei has decent enough aim, for a shitty swordsman, to throw the enormous sword to him. It buries itself half-way in the snow and burnt gunk, and Eichi abandons the Heavensword, diving after his own blade.

 

In his left hand, Sorrow’s Heart feels better than just about anything he’s ever touched.

 

Eichi streaks after Ibara, swings, and the entire world goes black, then white.

 

For a moment, there’s a heavy, awful silence, and the world seems to spin in slow motion, every horrible thing possible. The flash of white had been so bright, no matter how he blinks, it’s impossible to see anything in the darkness.

 

Then, the world rights itself, leaving Ritsu standing at the edge of a smoking crater, and Eichi standing atop a glacier—no, _half_ a glacier, the other half smote to dust by Sorrow’s Heart in its true master’s hand.

 

And Kaoru, for once in his life, feels the actual urge to kneel to the gods of his fathers.

 

“That,” he whispers to Rei, not turning his head, “is why Sorrow’s Heart is so… _so_ cool.”

 

Ritsu wobbles on shaky legs, now looking very human, staring up after Eichi and the bundle of fabric in his arms. “Is it…all right?” he calls, licking his lips. “Did the child live?”

 

Eichi sways, very slightly. “Yes,” he calls back, and for good reason, considering the child’s screaming has ceased. “Why don’t you just…come take him.”

 

“He’s _about_ done,” Rei mutters knowingly, and leaps from Honor’s back into the snow, racing up towards the glacier just before Eichi collapses.

 

He reaches Eichi just in time, catching the baby one-handedly and Eichi’s shoulder by the other. “This,” Eichi dazedly says, “is why I always _wanted_ you to stay the Demon King. The other stuff—not so much.”

 

“It’s better when you don’t talk,” Rei advises him, still looking around for any and all traces of the _thing_ , just in case, even as he glances down to Ritsu. “Ritsu—are you all right? Where’s Izumi?”

 

“Castle went boom,” Ritsu says faintly, looking as if he’s about to follow suit. “Oh…there’s going to be a lot of really angry demons, I made it bright.”

 

He whistles, and after a few moments, another black horse trots out of the darkness, giving Honor a wide, distrusting berth. “Hey, Eichi. You were…really awesome. I’m glad you were here.” He pauses. “And for those of you who missed it, he told us all he’s an idiot with a small penis. But really, I’m glad you were here.” He grins impishly, then slumps forward on his horse’s neck.

 

“Kaoru,” Rei calls, “come take the child, I only have so many hands.”

 

“Oh, that was exhilarating,” Eichi giggles, still decidedly dazed as he slumps against Rei, stabbing his sword into the ground as he hooks his chin over his shoulder. “But now I’m soooo hungry…Re~i…”

 

Kaoru swings off his warhorse, climbing up to gently take the baby, cradling it in his arms as if he’s hardly able to believe it’s real. “Hi, Your Highness,” he says quietly to the squirming child, and expertly re-tucks his swaddling clothes. “Hey, not to be ungrateful, but Eichi…is it really dead for good this time? Not like last time?”

 

Eichi’s eyes slit when he glances up. “It’s dead,” he firmly says. “Believe me—and I’m not taking it as ungrateful. We absolutely should be cautious about it. It turns to slime if you don’t kill it properly,” he mildly says, looking around for the slime in question as he tries to stick a hand underneath Rei’s tunic. “But…mm, no, I’m amazing, it’s dead.” 

 

Rei’s eyes lid as he catches Eichi’s hand, leaning in close. “If you behave yourself,” he murmurs, “I’ll feed you. That must’ve taken a lot, hmm?”

 

“It sure did,” Eichi sighs, reaching up to catch Rei’s chin. “I don’t know what you said to make him give me my sword back, but I’m grateful, you silver-tongued—“

 

Rei cuts him off, kissing him soundly—soundly enough that Eichi does _not_ notice the criss-crossing pattern of red, glowing strings slowly blaze to life around him. He tips his head back after a moment, licking his lips, and simply says: “Mika.”

 

“Wh—“

 

The strings tighten, and Eichi’s feet are ripped out from underneath him, his scrabbling attempt to grab his sword cut short when Rei grabs it, wrenching it from the ground and stepping out of reach. “You fucking _bitch!”_ he snarls, attempting to claw his way back to his feet and lunge after him. “Fuck you! I just saved us all!”

 

Rei shrugs a shoulder. “Because of my silver tongue, maybe,” he sweetly repeats, eyebrows raised. “Did you _really_ think I’d spoil you and praise you and _feed you?_ ” He leans down, holding Eichi’s gaze. “You _raped my prophet._ ”

 

“I saved your brother!”

 

“And I graciously let you hold the prince. We’re even.”

 

Another tightening of the strings, and Eichi is wrenched back further towards the Shadowlands. “The king can decide what he wants of you when he returns,” Rei calls after him. “Until then, you can sit and behave for Mika.”

 

Kaoru smiles in satisfaction as the strings tighten further, hurling Eichi out of sight, sending him streaking back to the ruins of Ritsu’s castle. “That was well done, Rei,” he says, turning to stroke a hand through the dark tendrils of Rei’s hair. “Even I thought for a second you were actually going to let him.”

 

“Brother,” Ritsu rebukes, arms folded in front of his chest. “That wasn’t very nice. Now I have to give him prisoner hospitality like he’s an enemy combatant. You should have waited until we left the field of battle, then we could have thrown him in the dungeon however we wanted.”

 

“What can I say, I hate him,” Rei dismissively says, tipping his head into Kaoru’s touch. “I couldn’t wait another minute to make him fucking suffer. Also, he makes my skin crawl when he touches me, I can’t fake it for that long. Here, Kaoru,” he says, offering up Sorrow’s Heart. “Trade me a sword for a baby, I’m much better with the latter. Ritsu, return him to Izumi, of course—then ask if he’d prefer to stay in the Shadowlands or come back here for now. Either is fine.”

 

Shadows cloud together in a Sending, and Ritsu’s eyes drift as it materializes in front of Izumi in his likeness. “Got your baby back safe and sound,” his Sending says, voice hollow through the distance. “You want to come here to the human realm? Or for us to bring him back there? Oh, and Mika, Eichi’s on his way, he might be there already. Don’t kill him.”

 

Mika pouts, playing cat’s cradle with his end of the bindings and making Cupcake stick their scaly ‘paws’ through it. “Can I like— _almost_ kill him?”

 

“I need to get back to the human realm at some point,” Izumi warily says, not entirely believing that it’s safe in either place now. “If I stay here with him—is that going to make him a demon or something?”

 

Ritsu’s tongue flicks out, running along his teeth uncertainly. “I don’t really know,” he admits. “Just plain humans, no, but he’s a quarter drake, so…not sure what it would do. Mika, take him to one of the cells in the dungeon, would you? The guards there can tell you exactly what you can do to him under Law Five.”

 

“Fiiine. If I gotta.”

 

“Believe me,” Rei drawls from behind Ritsu. “If it were just up to me, we wouldn’t bother. That’s probably terrible of me, but alas, he _does_ belong to the king…”

 

“…I don’t want to take a chance if there’s a question about it—no offense, I _like_ demons, the country just…doesn’t,” Izumi wryly says, glancing back to Arashi. “Coming with? Or staying here with Mika? He’s kind of in his element, huh…”

 

Arashi looks between Izumi and Mika, stricken. “Wait, I wasn’t ready to make a choice like this today,” he protests. “I…I don’t know.”

 

“Just stay for now, then,” Izumi quickly says. “Help Mika deal with Eichi, and once it’s settled, come out and I’ll fix this up a bit more.” He reaches out to gingerly touch Arashi’s neck. “But I need to get out of here. Knowing this situation…I’ll be back, with Leo, to deal with Eichi as well.”

 

Arashi relaxes, and gives him a kiss. “You take care of that baby,” he says, cupping Izumi’s cheek. “And yourself. Tell Rei if he doesn’t keep you both safe, I’ll kill him myself. I love you, Sena Izumi.”

 

“…Yeah. Love you, too.” Izumi turns back to Ritsu, needing to _not_ look at Arashi a moment longer, lest he end up staying put. “Can I just…follow the pathway you lit up still? Is it safe enough?”

 

Ritsu’s shadow Sending nods, and clasps Izumi’s arm in a warrior’s grip, then pulls him into an embrace. “It’s too bright for any of my citizens to bother investigating, since it doesn’t smell like food. And me and my brother and the paladin are waiting at the end of it to keep you safe. We’re your big, strong honor guard. Time to come home.”

 

“It’s about damned time,” Izumi exhales, sparing a last glance back to Arashi and Mika before stepping out of the swirling rubble of the castle, and heading his way out of the Shadowlands.

 

It actually _does_ feel like it has been forever since he’s seen the real light of day, and Izumi winces as he stumbles out, shielding his eyes for a moment as they readjust. “Your Majesty,” Rei cheerfully greets, offering Izumi a bow of his head. “I’m glad to see you alive and well.”

 

“…Likewise. Give him back.”

 

Immediately, Rei surrenders the sleepily squirming baby in his arms, and Izumi gathers him back, partially wrapping his cloak around him as well. “Wow, Kaoru,” he remarks. “You actually almost look like the real thing for once.”

 

Kaoru leaps off his horse, and very carefully folds Izumi into a hug, as firm as he can without disrupting the sleepy baby. “I thought you were dead,” he whispers. “I was really worried about you. So much has happened, gods, but you’re fine! You had the baby! You’re a man again, which is kind of sad!”

 

“Hey, Brother. One of my sentries found a horse he says has killed three men and is now eating like a cow. Is that the horse you named after me?”

 

“Ahh…maybe,” Rei innocently says, leaning back to beam at Ritsu. “She ran away when she saw Sorrow’s Heart. Not that I can blame her, seeing that thing put to work!”

 

Izumi promptly punches Kaoru in the shoulder. “If you tell me you prefer me as a woman, I’m going to scream,” he growls. “I guess it’s better than Arashi telling me I’m disgusting and hideous, but I’d like nothing but compliments right now from all of you!”

 

Kaoru holds up his hands, grinning. “Don’t begrudge me, I like looking at lovely curves, but you’re always a vision, for real. Oh, I’m off-limits now, did you hear? Found my self a damned inconvenient bond.” For all his words, he sounds rather cheerful about it.

 

“What are you going to _do_ with that thing?” Ritsu asks dubiously, looking side-eyed at the sword in Kaoru’s hand. “It can’t come back to the Shadowlands. Scary.”

 

Kaoru shrugs. “I guess it depends what we decide to do with Eichi, in the end. Until then, I’ll hang onto it.”

 

“ _You_ ,” Izumi deadpans, looking Kaoru over once more, “have a _bond?”_

 

“Oh, it’s terribly dreadful, all of it,” Rei hums, glancing out over the hills and offering up a tritone of whistles. The hideous, whinnying shriek that follows is more at home with some evil monster than the black mare that comes thundering towards them. “I’m sure Kaoru will tell you all about it.”

 

“I hate being…uhh…whatever I am when I’m healing from a mortal wound. I miss everything. Whatever. Bring it back to the Capital,” Izumi suggests, fluttering his free hand towards the enormous sword. “Leo can use it as a wall-hanging, maybe.”

 

“…If I do, can I come see it sometimes?”

 

Ritsu rolls his eyes. “You’re absolutely weird about that thing. It’s a God-killer, not a nifty gadget. Oh, is that my namesake? She looks mean, I approve.”

 

“She’s the most evil thing I know,” Rei fondly says as the mare trots up, tossing her head and immediately pinning her ears as Rei reaches in to pet her face.

 

“Where’s _my_ horse,” Izumi grumpily complains to himself. “Take me away from here, I need to start figuring out what to do with the North, and when I can get back to the Capital…is Leo here?”

 

Rei keeps petting his horse. “Mmmmmmm…”

 

“The longer you draw that out, the more I want to scream.”

 

“She’s the most evil thing I know,” Rei fondly says as the mare trots up, tossing her head and immediately pinning her ears as Rei reaches in to pet her face.

 

“Where’s _my_ horse,” Izumi grumpily complains to himself. “Take me away from here, I need to start figuring out what to do with the North, and when I can get back to the Capital…is Leo here?”

 

Rei keeps petting his horse. “Mmmmmmm…”

 

“The longer you draw that out, the more I want to scream.”

 

“Rei lost him,” Kaoru blurts out.

 

Ritsu freezes, and turns slowly to face his brother. “Brother,” he says, voice very, _very_ patient, “it is time for you to announce that ha, ha, the funny paladin told a funny paladin joke with his funny paladin sense of humor, ha, ha, of course I know where the king is.”

 

“I did not _lose_ him!” Rei protests, whirling around to smack Kaoru on the arm. “You ass.”

 

“Oh, then you know where he is?”

 

“So about that—“

 

“No, do not start it like that.”

 

“The thing is—he realized what a _risk_ he was to managing this situation, and just decided to—well—take off.”

 

“And you didn’t dissuade him?” Izumi snaps, taking an angry step forward, one hand on his sword, the other still tightly holding his child.

 

“That’s a good look for you,” Rei mildly says. “But, ah, no. I did not.”

 

Kaoru holds up his hands, though he hardly tries to get between Rei and Izumi. They can both take care of themselves, and both of them are far sturdier than he, so…well, if they’re going to fight, best they do it without a squishy paladin in the middle. “We haven’t had time to deal with anything,” he says, as consolingly as possible. “Leo made a choice, he’s the king, he was pretty firm about it, actually. He said he’d rather disappear than ever be used to hurt you again, Izumi. We’ll find him now, it’ll be…fine.”

 

“How can you idiots think this is fine?” Ritsu demands, standing shoulder to shoulder with Izumi, hand on his own sword as he glares at his brother. “He’s the king, not a stray cat! Ugh! You’re absolutely useless! I swore a blood pact to protect him, you ass! We both did! This is why I hate being nice to you! You always do something stupid right after you do something cool!”

 

“You’re both half-bloods,” Rei feels the need to point out. “The blood pact doesn’t exactly _work_ —“

 

“That’s beside the point!” Izumi explodes, shoving his child off into Kaoru’s arms—albeit gently, _very_ gently—before nearly drawing his own sword as he stalks towards Rei. “Go find him! Find him now! He’s not going to just _come back_ , he’s Leo, that’s how he operates!”

 

“Ahh…with all due respect, no,” Rei calmly says, holding up his hands placatingly. “I have quite a bit to take care of here. If you’d like to scour the realm for him, by allmeans. That being said, I’m inclined to side with Kaoru. We’ll find him when he wants to be found.”

 

“That’s not exactly what I said,” Kaoru says hastily. “I said we’ll find him now, please don’t look at me like that.”

 

Ritsu glares daggers at his brother. “You aren’t setting a foot into the Shadowlands until you find the king,” he says, voice ringing with authority. “So tell me, in absolute detail, what you have to ‘take care of’ that’s more important than locating the king.”

 

Rei’s eyes narrow, and something about that stare makes Izumi hastily step aside, taking a step back out of Rei’s way as Rei closes the distance between himself and Ritsu in a pair of strides. “I don’t have to answer to you, little brother,” he lowly says, switching briskly to Shadowtongue. “And I definitely don’t have to take your orders. I’ll find this world’s king, but I’ll find him when I’ve taken care of my own and repaired the reputation of the Shadowlands at large. If you want to go looking for him before then, fine. You have my blessing—but do _not_ challenge me again in front of these humans.”

 

“You don’t stand on Shadesoil yet!” Ritsu hisses back in the same language, drawing himself up to his full height, only a few inches shorter than his brother. “I’ve been _ruling_ here for years, because you were supposed to be taking care of the ones I loved in the human world. You broke your promise! Not because of an accident, but willfully! I _must_ challenge that!”

 

“Don’t like that,” Kaoru remarks to Izumi under his breath. “Never liked that. Not a sexy language.”

 

“I took care of him in the one way I knew how, you little fool,” Rei snarls. “I thralled him, for _years_ , in order to keep him sane. When I was forced to break that, I did everything in my power to still keep my eyes on him—but when he came to me, trying to fall prey to Eichi’s utter and complete _bullshit_ , it was under his own conclusion that he decided to leave and go…wherever he wanted! What would you have had me do, restrain him until he chewed through his own limbs to escape?!”

 

“…It sort of has its appeal?” Izumi manages, a little wide-eyed in spite of himself. “But not like this.”

 

“Swear you’ll make it right before you step foot in the Shadowlands again!” Ritsu insists, standing square, not yielding an inch. “And I will cede your throne with no contest. I’ll even let you claim me, publicly, the way you wanted to when we were Wakening. I don’t trust anyone else with something like that!”

 

Rei stands fast, not yielding an inch of his own, his hands fisting at his sides. “You already ceded the throne months ago,” he quietly warns, “when I visited you, and allowed you to release all of the magic you were pouring into our castle. But because you’re my brother, my Ritsu, I’ll allow this once. I’ll find this realm’s king, but you will _thank me_ , and never, ever do this again in front of humans. Do you understand me?”

 

Ritsu sucks in a breath, ordering his blood to stop racing from both fear and arousal, and nods. “I understand. And I accept. He…he is my very dear friend. I won’t apologize, but I will cede, again, formally. Thank you.”

 

“You don’t need to apologize. This is enough.” Rei rests a hand atop Ritsu’s head, giving his hair a gentle petting. “I swear I’ll find him. Good boy, you’ve done well in my stead.”

 

“So,” Izumi idly says, glancing up to Kaoru, “ _I’m_ not cold, but I’m willing to bet my kid is. Can we…go…”

 

Kaoru nods, and gives him a smile. “Want to ride with me? You’re used to huge horses, right? Or if you and the baby need to be alone, I can… _try_ to get on Rei’s scary horse. Actually, if you need to ride alone, I’ll just walk, I’ll see you in a few days.”

 

“I can call another horse,” Ritsu says dubiously, eyes lidding as he’s being petted, “but it’ll take a while. And it won’t like you, either.”

 

“I’ll just ride with Kaoru,” Izumi says, rolling his eyes. “Sorry, Ritsu. I’m not getting on a demon horse when I’m carrying this kid.”

 

“A wise choice,” Rei cheerfully says, all smiles now as he pets Ritsu thoroughly. “They’re always a bit frisky.” Another petting, and he adds, “Mao is where we’re headed, and I bet he’d be happy to see you.”

 

Ritsu pouts. “I can’t be away now, not with what we just threw around. Not with Eichi back there, the bindings aren’t _that_ good. No fair dangling that when I can’t have it.”

 

“Upsie daisy, now, your Majesty,” Kaoru says, and offers Izumi a hand up. “Don’t be proud, it’s harder with a kid in your hands. And that’s an important baby.”

 

“Come for an hour,” Rei gently urges, offering Ritsu his hand. “Refresh yourself and relax. I’ll contact Shu; he’s practically climbing the walls to get into the Shadowlands after all of this, so maybe he’ll come and give you a reprieve sooner, rather than later.”

 

Izumi scowls a little, but doesn’t refuse, taking Kaoru’s hand and letting himself be pulled up with minimal effort. “Did you get stronger?” he teases. “You threw me up here like you’ve been tossing around half-ton rocks.”

 

Rei actually _can’t_ stifle a snort of amusement at that.

 

Kaoru laughs. “Something like that. Half-ton someones, at least.” He cocks his head. “Or maybe it’s because I’ve embraced my paladin nature or some shit? Oh, fuck, that means no celebratory opium, doesn’t it? Ah…maybe I can start the true paladin thing tomorrow, after all…”

 

Ritsu hesitates for only a moment more, before swinging up behind Rei. “Only for an hour,” he mumbles, and lets his eyes close, sagging forward against his brother. “Tired. That light thing is harder than it looked.”

 

“It always is,” Rei sympathizes, turning his mare around. “Hold on tight, love. She’s very…brisk, we’ll say. And you,” he says, jabbing a finger in Kaoru’s direction. “You are absolutely having opium _and_ Shadewine. Where is it in the paladin rulebook that you aren’t allowed such things? Well, maybe the Shadewine.”

 

Kaoru opens his mouth, then closes it. “I _did_ say I want to become a new kind of paladin,” he muses, a little bit wickedly. “If I’m the one writing the rulebook, who knows what it might say?” Then he gives Izumi a wink, and kicks Honor into a canter, headed back for Sena.

 

“You excited to get your ladies out of cold storage?”

 

“Why did you have to phrase it like that?” Izumi darkly asks, resisting the urge to jab a finger between Kaoru’s ribs. “Yes, I’m excited, but I’m not letting them out until I’m entirely certain this place is safe. It’s…”

 

He lifts his head, swallowing as he stares out over the mountains of snow and nothing else. “It’s definitely…not right now.”

 

“You are,” Kaoru says, reaching back to give Izumi’s thigh a squeeze. “You’re safe with me. And so is the little one. Have you thought of a name, yet?”

 

“I think I’m supposed to let Leo do that, technically,” Izumi wryly says, his head coming to rest against Kaoru’s shoulder. “Him being the king and all. I’ve never named any of my kids, actually…is that weird?”

 

Kaoru shrugs. “I was informed that my husband’s mate is not only going to name my new kid, but raise it as well. Plus, your kids all have cute names, so it worked out.”

 

Izumi’s eyebrows raise. “Shu is a little obsessed with the idea of children lately,” he says diplomatically. “Does this all still apply now that you’re…uh…apparently bonded? Sorry, I can’t figure out if you’re happy about it or kinda shellshocked, like I was…who is it even to? Am I supposed to know?”

 

“I have no idea how I feel, really,” Kaoru admits. then shakes his head, running a hand back through his hair. “It’s sort of complicated—I’m thrilled at who it’s with—Natsume, by the way—and I love the kid to death, but I’m still not sure how I feel about it. So far, the bond itself just seems kind of like an inconvenience.” Though the thought makes him send a pulse of warmth and affection down that bond. _It’s over, love. We’re coming back._

 

Natsume’s reach back towards Kaoru is a heavy mix of relief and wariness. _Over? In what capacity? I felt the drude die. Where’s Eichi? The other two archdemons? The—_

 

“Mmm.” The noise Izumi makes is deliberately noncommittal. “Natsume, huh. Good luck. Pretty face, sharp tongue is kinda fun…”

 

“He has to like me,” Kaoru points out. “So it’s more fun when I know when he’s being serious. We’re…working on it.”

 

_Eichi’s in prison or something in the Shadowlands, he killed the drude. The other archdemons cooperated and gave us the sword to kill the drude. I was outside for it, so you’ll have to ask Rei what he did with them. The drude is properly dead, though._

 

_Good._

 

Then their conversation abruptly comes to an end, courtesy of Natsume distinctly falling asleep.

 

“I was more saying ‘good luck’ to the fact he’s got about as much people-sense as a barn cat. Ritsu used to try and flirt with him all the time. Ritsu,” Izumi calls over. “Tell him about the time you tried to get into Natsume’s…uh, under his skirts.”

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Ritsu says, chin lifted with the air of someone who knows this particular story does not paint him in an especially flattering light. “But it _is_ weird that he carries so many knives. Don’t like that. Kaoru, does he sleep with them between his thighs, too?”

 

“Not when I’m there instead,” Kaoru calls, and Ritsu cackles.

 

“Speaking of those knives. So Ritsu’s a total nerd, right?” Izumi begins, not letting Ritsu off the hook for this one. “And so is Natsume. The two of them spent houuuurs in that library in Rei’s castle.”

 

“It’s so cute that you’re such a scholar, honestly,” Rei fondly says to his brother.

 

“Yeah, whatever. Anyway, so they’ve been working in there all day and Natsume just says, ‘guess it’s time to head to bed’ and Ritsu, thinking he’s been really sweet all day and getting on Natsume’s good side, just puts a hand on Natsume’s thigh and I shit you not, the kid looks over at him and says, ‘do you need my dagger for something?’ and Ritsu _still_ thinks he’s talking about sex, so he—“

 

“And that’s the story of how I temporarily lost a finger to the world’s most obtuse Nightcloak,” Ritsu says grumpily. “ _Thanks_ , Izumi. What a great memory.”

 

“What? It was fucking funny. He _still_ had no idea that you were hitting on him until you explained it, and he had this look on his face like ‘who? me? seriously?’ It’s kind of charming, when they’re that oblivious…like the _one time_ I saw him wear men’s clothing and he was freaking out because he was sure everyone would think he was ugly.”

 

“Make sure to let Kaoru quiz you on all of Natsume’s cutest attributes later,” Rei advises. “He has many of them. My poor Ritsu, you never told me he chopped off your finger. I would’ve kissed it better.”

 

“You weren’t around. Believe me,” Ritsu says, now looking rather smug, “it got kissed better. Once he stopped laughing at me and I stopped slapping him, right, Izumi?”

 

Kaoru twists around to look at Izumi, intrigued. “I didn’t know you knew him that well. Are you two friends? I’d really like to ask you some stuff, if you don’t mind.”

 

“Uhh…how to put this…he’s the teacher I hated the most, after blooming,” Izumi wryly replies, readjusting his hold when his son’s head lolls, fast asleep from the smooth horseback ride. “And before that, I happened to spend a lot of time around him, because he was in the West, blowing shit up. He’s cute. Weird, but cute. And don’t be dumb, Ritsu. I spent no time kissing your _finger_.”

 

“Yeah, _duh_ , that wouldn’t have made me cheer up at all.”

 

“He is weird-cute, isn’t he?” Kaoru asks fondly, as if describing a particularly odd pet. “By the way, Izumi. I have raised kids before, so if you need any advice, let me know. I know you’re a father already too, but this is your first time with an infant, right?”

 

“I mean—yes. I don’t know how Leo’s expecting me to raise a kid and run his armies _and_ fix the North, but all right,” Izumi frets, mostly to himself. “This is why Mika’s not allowed to slither off into the Shadowlands permanently just yet. Rei, you need to _tell him_ that.”

 

“I have no say in the matter,” Rei lightly replies.

 

“Oh, just—uuugggh. That’s why Natsume doesn’t faze me, by the way,” Izumi bluntly says. “Mika. I’m used to _Mika._ You think Natsume’s weird? For fuck’s sake, you’re so wrong.”

 

“He’s weird,” Kaoru protests. “Not horribly weird, but he’s definitely strange. When he gets mad at me, he hisses. And sometimes he asks me for things, but if I give them to him, he gets mad, and he’ll _never_ explain himself.”

 

“Like a cat. You’re describing a cat.” Izumi just looks amused. “But yeah, he’s totally like that. He plays hard to get sooo much, he’s worse than Ritsu.”

 

“Why does he have to play hard to get when I’ve already got him, though? Makes no sense! We’ve got the bond, that’s supposed to let us…I don’t know, skip over the boring parts. Get right to the fun stuff, where we cuddle all day. He does like that, at least.”

 

“What, because you never like flirting with someone all day while they tease you and keep making you wait even if you’ve fucked them twenty times before?” Izumi deadpans. “My bond was bullshit, so I can’t attest to that, but if we’re just talking about having fun…I dunno, I think it’s fun when someone makes me work for it.”

 

“But I’m lazy.” Kaoru laughs. “Yeah, I like the games, sometimes. But I don’t know his signals. And if I get his answers wrong, he gets really hurt. That part, I hate.”

 

“How long have you two even been interested in one another? Or did you just bond and then have to figure it out?”

 

“Fortunately, I liked him first,” Kaoru says, relaxing into Honor’s stride. “We got stuck together, traveling and being at a magic-blocking library for a couple weeks. I totally fell for him. Then when we got out and magic snapped back on, the bond showed up.”

 

“Then you reeeally don’t know his answers yet. He’s…” Izumi pauses, glancing back over his shoulder, and when he sees Rei happily absorbed in chatting up a very sleepy looking Ritsu, he leans into Kaoru’s back again, voice low. “He’s used to really pushy, powerful guys. Take it as a compliment—you’ve got a gentle touch. He probably has no idea how to react when you back off at his hissing and spitting instead of pushing harder. You know what I mean?”

 

Kaoru looks over at the demon siblings as well, and decides that they’re safely ignored for the moment. “I can’t tell his signals at all,” he agrees. “I do know what you mean. So, I kind of figure, since that’s what he chose when he was free to choose, when the world or destiny or the gods didn’t choose for him…that’s what he wants, right? He kept saying he wanted me to just take what I wanted without asking, and he got mad when I wouldn’t.”

 

“I mean…that’s what he’s _used to_ , at any rate,” Izumi allows. “He obviously likes it, or he’d chase after something else. If you’re _really_ asking for my opinion, though…a loooot of him liking guys like that comes from him chasing after this one, oblivious motherfucker that could _not_ figure out that Natsume wanted him to climb right up underneath his skirts. So yeah, I imagine he likes a guy that’s going to just take charge and call him cute names instead now.”

 

“Eh? Was that Tsumugi or Wataru? Kinda different from how I heard the story…”

 

“Ooooh no. That was Subaru, the Captain of _Rei’s_ personal guard in High Harbor.”

 

“Eh?” Kaoru asks again, more flabbergasted this time. “That absolute numbskull? Don’t get me wrong, he’s got a good heart, but he’s…I mean, I’m pretty sure Honor could beat him in a spelling contest.”

 

Izumi shrugs a shoulder. “Some people like dumbasses that are good at swinging swords and not much else, I guess.”

 

“He’s into Arashi, too?”

 

“Hey. Fuck you.”

 

“Joking, joking! Come on, people use that line to describe me all the time. At least I’m like one of his types.”

 

“What, the nerdy type?” Izumi deadpans. “Yeah, you’re like, all of them squished in a blob, so lucky him. Except the ‘really pushy guys’ one, which I think is kinda all in his head, anyway.” He gives Kaoru a nudge. “Hey, at least _you_ got the one that likes looking like a pretty girl.”

 

“Why do you say that?” Kaoru asks, trying not to sound frustrated. “Because Rei said that, too, but Natsume told me he _doesn’t_ like it, he just does it so that he doesn’t get weird looks from conservative people.”

 

“Because I was in the room where he had a total freakout the _one time_ he had to dress as a guy for an undercover mission. It took Shu, Mika, me, _and_ Arashi to convince him that no, he wasn’t ugly because he had to wear breeches like every other man. I’m not exaggerating. I heard that it’s some religion thing too, but after awhile, who _doesn’t_ want to look pretty, look the part, and be told that he’s pretty if he’s got to wear a certain thing?” Izumi shrugs again. “The king used to tell me _he_ didn’t like guys, when we were teenagers. Know why? Because he’d get weird looks. From conservative people.”

 

“…Huh.” Kaoru considers this in silence for a few long minutes, letting Honor’s long legs carry them farther and farther from the land of shadows. “So you think…can you lay it out for me like I’m a big dumb boy who just likes to hit things with swords?”

 

“Yeah. Flirt with him like you would any girl. Flip his skirts, he’ll probably shriek and hit you in that cute way girls do. Then, when you’re about to do it with him, ‘slip up’ and call him ‘good girl’ instead of ‘good boy’ or whatever it is you say. He’ll be embarrassed for like, a minute, then be embarrassed in a good way and you can roll with it. That’s it. Trust me.”

 

“…I’m only trusting you because that’s never been a mistake in the past,” Kaoru says, giving Izumi a side-eye. “Because that advice _sounds_ like it’s going to get my ass kicked. I mean, it sounds hot, and the idea of him _liking_ it sounds hot.”

 

“I mean…the worse that’ll happen is he kicks your ass a bit. But he’s hot, so that’s all right.”

 

Kaoru grunts in agreement. “I’ve had my ass kicked by a lot of people I like less than him,” he acknowledges. “Fair enough. I’ll give it a shot. But you have to patch me up if he chops anything off with those knives.”

 

“Yeah, whatever. He’s going to like it and you’re going to thank me later,” Izumi smugly says. “You’re just used to Rei, who’s an honest slut, so your view’s a little skewed. Also, bonds fuck with your perception of how big a deal something’s going to be.”

 

“They do? Ooh. I’ll have to keep an eye on that. And it’s not just Rei,” Kaoru says, sighing a little. “I’ve made a lifetime hobby out of only running around with, well, honest sluts. They’re my favorite. No misunderstandings, no hurt feelings, just happiness.”

 

“And yet here you are, with arguably the most dishonest slut I’ve ever met. He’s so horny that it makes me a little crazy being around him.”

 

“But he’s not a slut! Not really! Rei says he’s only done it like a dozen times, he’s in his twenties! It’s like he’s a virgin, I’m definitely going to scare him.”

 

“Yeah, he wants to do it like a slut, though. Pheromones don’t lie. I bet he’s a freak.”

 

“I mean…mostly so far he wants to cuddle, and he wants me to make love to him really gently with the lights off.”

 

“And…how many times have you had sex with him?”

 

“…All right, fair point, but Izumi! He told me he never wanted to top, and that if I ever wanted him to try, I’d have to get him high and beg him because it’s scary! The other night I gave him a handjob, and when he came really fast he almost punched me! He’s complicated and really easy to upset!”

 

“Eh. Sounds like every wizard I’ve hooked up with. And if you want him to top, just tell him you’ll di~e without it, his dick is the only one you want, then praise the hell out of him and tell him it was the best you’ve ever had even if it wasn’t. Duh.”

 

“Hey! I know how to make a guy feel good about his dick! I’ve just never had to talk one into putting it in me before!” Kaoru huffs. “Rei! Tell Izumi I’m very appreciative when you top!”

 

“You’re _very_ appreciative and I appreciate you,” Rei sweetly, obediently tosses back over.

 

“You’re the one asking,” Izumi says with a shrug. “It’s different than telling someone it’s good _while_ it’s happening. It’s…” He exhales a breath, then heaves a sigh. “Listen. Without getting too far into it, Leo’s not _exactly_ a top. He’s not as bad as Natsume sounds, but—he needs some encouragement to want to put forth the effort unless he’s in a real mood for it. So…take it from me, at least a little.”

 

Kaoru nods slowly. “The one time I ran around with him, he was definitely…ah, sorry to bring that up. You must miss him.”

 

“Yeah.” Izumi pauses, and briskly transitions, “Anyway, Natsume looks _damn_ good in a ball gown. You can’t tell that he’s not a woman and it’s hot. Is his waist super tiny? It _looks_ like it is.”

 

“Pretty small, but he wears his corsets cinched as hard as I can make it with my man strength,” Kaoru says, picking up on the deflection quickly. “He says he likes it. I personally think it’s hot as hell.”

 

“Nice. Do him in a corset done like that, I bet it’s…very good. Sometimes, Shu puts Mika in a corset just because he can, and I swear he’s missing a rib. When Arashi yanks on him it just kinda…” Izumi’s eyes glaze. “Ah, I haven’t had sex with a guy as a guy in sooo long.”

 

“Soon,” Kaoru promises, giving Izumi’s knee a pat. “Ah, if my bond didn’t kill it, I’d tumble you tonight, but…sorry. I’m sure Ritsu would love to.”

 

“He’s going to eat Mao for lunch,” Izumi grumbles. “Does your bond kill it? That’s the _worst_.”

 

“I know. Believe me, _believe_ me, I know. Holy shit, I know. It is, in fact, the worst. Kills my sex drive with anyone else. So far, that’s the grand total effect.”

 

“That’s seriously the worst and I’m sorry. I’d probably die. Actually, I know I’d die, I’ve nearly died before.”

 

“You think _you’d_ die, I have almost two hundred years of slutty practice not being monogamous. This is going to be…something. I don’t know what. But something.”

 

“I mean—on a magical level? I think I’d die? Pretty sure. But yeah, uh, I’m not exactly the king of monogamy over here either. I guess you…ah…better get really good at figuring the kitty-cat out, huh. Or you could…” Izumi trails off, gaze sliding back towards Rei. “I guess Shu could help you out. He certainly pulled all the strings to fix their hellscape of a bond.”

 

Kaoru hesitates, then shakes his head. “I think…ah, I don’t know if I believe in destiny or not you know? At the end of the day? But the gods saw fit to bless me with someone so good-hearted and cute and intelligent and clever…seems a shame to try and get any part of that blocked off.”

 

“Heeeh. You’re really into him. Maybe you’ll be a star at monogamy after all.”

 

“Shut uuuuup, it’s embarassing!”

 

“Are you two going to have a real wedding and everything? Get Shu to design the dress, he makes _all_ of Natsume’s clothes. And mine. Listen, he’s worth the money.”

 

“I’m already married,” Kaoru reminds him. “And death hasn’t yet parted us.”

 

“…I mean—isn’t that a little conflicting with your whole ‘if the gods saw fit to bless me’…”

 

“Hey, it’s not my fault that the gods blessed me after I got married.”

 

“Well, do whatever you like, then. See if you can last a month before you decide the gods

have blessed you, heh.”

 

Kaoru huffs. “It’s not all simple, you know. Rei never asked to dissolve our marriage when he bonded to Shu, so…would be kind of fucking weird for me to do it now, don’t you think?”

 

“He was unwilling to stay monogamous, though, and actively was searching for a way to close off his bond…I mean, he’s a sex wizard, it would basically be impossible for him to live otherwise,” Izumi logically says. “I don’t know—personally, if you’re serious about this, I don’t think it’s weird? But to each their own.”

 

“…We’ll see if Natsume can put up with me after a week or two,” Kaoru says finally, his tone brooking no continuation of the topic. “Damn, that’s a quiet baby. You’ll be really glad for that at nighttime, soon.”

 

“Or he’ll be up all night,” Izumi crossly says. “And all of you will want me dead, which would be fair, at this point.”

 

“I’d probably get up and help you,” Kaoru says with a sigh. “It’s that kind of instinct. Can you feed him, with your flat tits? I’d be kind of interested to see that…”

 

“No idea,” Izumi wearily says. “You are not the first person to ask me that. So, for starters, don’t call them ‘flat tits’, it’s just—my chest—and if I can’t, I’ll just shift back for awhile.”

 

“Does your milk shift, too?” Kaoru asks, trying not to crane around entirely to stare. “Or do you have to make more, every time? That requires a lot of stimulation…Listen, my sex drive might be broken, but I _promise_ that if you ever need help in that way…”

 

“For fuck’s sake—I thought Kasa was the only one.”

 

“You can’t shame me for liking it when beautiful women give life!”

 

“I’m a man. I’m seriously a man. The only time you can tell me I’m a good girl is when there’s a dick in me, and that isn’t right now.”

 

“But I loved your lady body, and I respect you as a man. And I’m not trying to get into your pants! I just like tits.”

 

“Okay? But a sexy guy sucking on my tits is going to make me _want_ you in my pants?”

 

“…Good point. I’ll try to be good. But seriously, you can tap me in for the night shift, I’m good at getting babies to fall asleep. Lots of practice.”

 

“Nnnh…fine,” Izumi eventually comes to the conclusion of, huffing out a breath. “I trust you more than the rest of this lot. Nightcloaks are crazy, and—wait, hold on, how’s _Wataru_ taking all this mess with Natsume? He’s got to be spitting fire or, uh, whatever it is that Airbreds spit…”

 

“Oh, shit.” Kaoru’s hands tighten on the reins. “Um, Wataru’s dead.”

 

“Oh. I. Ah. Missed that part. Shit.”

 

“Yeah. Was kind of our fault? But mostly his fault for being an insane Airbred, I think?”

 

“You know, that sounds about right. Uh…I mean, I barely knew the guy, so…rest in peace? If Airbreds do that? And I feel bad for Natsume, but you know…”

 

“He’s safer with me.” Kaoru’s voice is absolutely certain. “He’ll be happier with me.”

 

“…Yeah. I’m not disagreeing there.” Izumi falls silent for a moment, chewing on his lower lip. “There’s a reason,” he finally says, underneath his breath, “why I usually don’t get _involved_ with anyone but humans. I know, big talk coming from a half-blood, but I grew up assuming I was human, and…I think that counts for something. Humans are just…a lot easier to understand. I have…one exception to that rule. The only other one I made was a mistake, a biiig one, in retrospect.”

 

“You’re one of the most human people I know,” Kaoru says wryly. “Who’s the mistake you made? Anyone I know?”

 

“Yeah, he’s sitting in the Shadowlands dungeon right now, or whatever they call it there.”

 

Kaoru sighs. “Yeah. He was a mistake of mine, too. More than once.”

 

“Seems like we have all made that mistake. How…unfortunate.”

 

Kaoru shrugs. “You know, this shit happens. I’ve made a lot of slutty mistakes.”

 

“Hey, at least you weren’t his fully-fledged lover, like the other two people Natsume was sleeping with.”

 

“…Wow. Yeah.” Kaoru winces. “More stuff…happened, but I was in a library for most of it, so I’m really not the one to catch you up.”

 

“Ritsu will get the full story from Rei, and I’ll get the full story from him,” Izumi dismisses. “Right now…I don’t want to think about ‘stuff.’ I want to lie down, and think about how maybe the world isn’t going to end the day after my son’s birthday.”

 

Kaoru almost mentions how _easy_ it would be to not find the hope in this situation, that he doesn’t know shit about the archdemons, that he’s hardly certain Ritsu’s dungeon can hold Eichi—but hell, he’s just one man, one _human_ man, and Natsume is waiting for him.

 

That thought, more than any other, makes his lips curl, and he sends another pulse of warmth along their bond. _Maybe it’ll give him sweet dreams, for once._ “Maybe it won’t. That sounds…pretty good. I missed you.”

 

“Did you?” Izumi dryly returns, nudging Kaoru’s back. “Is it my sunny disposition? My foul mouth? My fucking _amazing_ hair?”

 

“Oh, the hair.”

 

“Good answer, this is why women like you.”

 

“I miss women, too.”

 

“Been there. Men aren’t _that_ different, at the end of the day.”

 

“That’s not true in any way I can think of, but thank you for trying.”

 

“If they’re wearing skirts and are wizards that magically summon oil and have _really_ nice thighs…I dunno. Close enough.”

 

“But…tits? Cunts? Hello?”

 

“Keep fixating and you’re in for a bad time. That’s all.”

 

“Usually, fixating on those things gets me a good time.”

 

“Yeah, well. Get over it. You’re bonded to a guy.”

 

“Well, _yeah_. But he’s a wizard. Someday he might have those things. I’ve seen much weirder shit happen with wizards.”

 

“Shapeshifting’s a really distinct talent,” Izumi warns. “Don’t get your hopes up. Usually, the ones that can shapeshift have a lot more creature blood in them.”

 

“He’s a dragon. For all I know, he’ll lay eggs. Which might be cool. I don’t know. Maybe the king is on to something.”

 

“Yeah, I’m done, let me off this horse.”

 

“It’s a joke, a joke! Were you always this prickly?”

 

“Yep. And I haaaaate the eggs thing. Gross.”

 

“I told you, a _joke_! How do you handle the king being weird if you gag at that?”

 

“I tell him it’s weird and gross, duh.”

 

“And that doesn’t hurt his feelings?”

 

“I distract him by doing something else. I’m good at it.”

 

“You’re not distracting me very well. Maybe he’s just flighty.”

 

“What, do you want a handjob?” Izumi deadpans.

 

“Oh, oops, I sure did make that pass close, didn’t I,” Rei idly says as they approach the now thoroughly snowed-in pass that was barely wide enough for a single horse to pass in the first place. “Well…oops.”

 

At that, the roots he’d drawn up before immediately upheave once more, shifting the snow around to make it resemble somewhat more of a path. “That’ll be good enough, I think.”

 

Izumi’s baby _does_ stir and start grumbling at that. “I wonder what kind of citizenship this kid has to work with,” he wryly says, unfazed. “Considering he was born in the Shadowlands…”

 

“If you want him to be king one day, he has to be born in this realm,” Kaoru reminds him. “Fortunately, his birth was witnessed by a paladin, hm? I’ll sign whatever you need him to. Rei, next time, _try_ to make the avalanche a little more convenient?”

 

“Nothing Brother does is ever convenient,” Ritsu murmurs, sleeping against Rei’s chest. “Impressive, but not convenient.”

 

“Ah…right, yes, totally witnessed by a paladin, born right here in the North,” Izumi swiftly determines. “Hey, there’s never been a king born in the North. That’s nice.”

 

“We were in a hurry, I definitely get a pass here,” Rei sniffs, cradling Ritsu against him as he urges his horse forward and through the rather uneven terrain. “But thank you, Ritsu, I do like being impressive.”

 

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Ritsu says around a yawn. “It’s just because you’re the coolest. I’ll forget about it in the morning.”

 

“Ritsuuuu, you’re so good. You’re the cutest, this is why I’d die without you…”

 

“Hightail it back to where I get to lie down, I can’t listen to another moment of these two when they get like this,” Izumi sighs.

 

Kaoru kicks his horse, and Honor pulls ahead of the weird demons on their weird demon horse, until Sena is visible. “There it is,” Kaoru says with a sigh, leaning forward eagerly. “He’s there.”

 

Izumi spares a glance back to Ritsu—unsurprising, that he’s not even trying to fake his own bond being incredibly active, when he has Rei to dote on him instead—and then simply sags against Kaoru’s back, shutting his eyes. “It’s so empty out here, it’s creepy,” he murmurs underneath his breath. “Ah, that’s a task for tomorrow. You’re so obsessed already, it’s charming.”

 

“I’m not obsessed. He’s just, he’s there, is it weird to say he’s there?” Kaoru asks, only listening to himself with half a brain, urging Honor faster towards Sena.

 

“You’re obsessed. It’s good.” Izumi’s voice sounds either wistful, or tired. Maybe both.

 

Rei flicks a tiny mote of magic ahead, unlocking his wards for Kaoru and Izumi to pass through ahead of them, and Izumi lifts his head, peering at the cottage that appears in front of him. “Ah. Yeah. I remember this house. Can’t say I ever expected to stay here, but…that’s good for now, I guess,” he mutters, now definitely sounding tired. “Might take you up on babysitting after all, Kaoru.”

 

“Ah, yeah, if he wakes up in the middle of the night, I’m yours,” Kaoru promises, and swings down from Honor, holding up his hands. “Want to give me the little prince now? I’m sure he’s hungry, though. And I’m pretty sure all your wetnurses are currently enjoying lizard hospitality.”

 

“You can have him while I get down.” Izumi passes the slowly stirring, grumpily gurgling child down to Kaoru before sliding off the horse himself, not even flinching at the snow that comes nearly up to his knees. “And I’m going to feed him, and then I’m going to pass out. I need my beauty sleep or I’m going to kill every single person I know. Pass that on to…everyone that tries to talk to me.”

 

 _Are you awake, love?_ Kaoru sends, only listening to Izumi with half a mind, holding the baby against one shoulder as he starts to jiggle on instinct. _I’m here, I’m back, I’m really close._

 

Too late, he blushes, realizing just how needy he sounds. _You know. Whatever. Whenever you feel like it. If you’re not busy. I’m busy._

 

“I’m sure there’s some goat’s milk, if you want him to have that for an evening.”

 

Izumi stares at Kaoru for a moment, gaze half-lidded, before he simply shrugs a shoulder. “You look a little too happy to have him, so I’m not going to stop you,” he says. “Wake me up if he gets needy. Or cranky. Or both. Then he can have my boob.”

 

With that, he makes his way inside, passing a very, very drowsy looking Natsume with little more than a mutual grunt of acknowledgement.

 

“I slept,” Natsume announces groggily. “For a whooole thirty minutes.”

 

“Is that good?” Kaoru asks, drawn to him as if by a force, walking close in that trademark, slow jiggle of a new parent whose newborn has only just gotten to sleep. “You look rested. And adorable.”

 

“It’s not…bad,” Natsume allows, squinting at Kaoru for a moment. “That’s Izumi’s, huh. Did you steal it? Don’t tell me we have to _keep it_ forever. That’s too much politics.”

 

Kaoru grins. “You’re not going to remark that I’m awfully handsome looking like a new father? Fine, I guess I’ll give the Prince of the Realm back when his dad wakes up.”

 

“You’re just handsome anyway, whatever,” Natsume mutters, his cheeks turning pink in spite of himself as he turns back into the house. “So. The world’s done ending for five minutes?”

 

“Think so. Sorrow’s Gate still has to be closed, though.” Kaoru grimaces, and follows him in. “Which I thought I was doing a good job of forgetting, until that came out of my mouth. Ugh, is it bad paladin form to hope that a different paladin shows up to throw himself on it?”

 

“Throw Eichi on it,” Natsume says, completely serious. “Physically lift him, and throw him onto it, like an enormous, ceremonial fire.”

 

Kaoru waves his free hand, feeling suddenly weary. “He’s technically out of my jurisdiction, which means for the moment that he’s absolutely not my problem. Gimme a kiss, you’re cute.”

 

Natsume eyes him, then shuts the door behind them, slinks back over, and lets his head knock against Kaoru’s shoulder. “Nhh. Too many things happening. Come warm up and I’ll kiss you.”

 

“Rei and Ritsu are still coming in,” Kaoru murmurs, sitting in front of the fire, then tugging Natsume down onto his lap. It’s his slight weight that settles on Kaoru, and he shifts the now-sleeping prince to the other shoulder. “Only half an hour?”

 

“Oh. Ritsu’s good,” Natsume says matter-of-factly before nuzzling straight into Kaoru’s neck, unfazed by the baby in his other arm. “Yeah. Only half an hour. That’s about normal. Did anyone die? Other than the drude?”

 

“Eichi burned his arm off or something. I don’t think anyone died, though.” Kaoru can’t help but smile, tucking Natsume’s head under his chin. “You feel good right there.”

 

“It’s because you have a surprisingly big chest,” Natsume drowsily says, coiling his arms around Kaoru’s waist as he slumps against him. “Someone should burn off Eichi’s dick.”

 

“It would absolutely serve him right,” Kaoru agrees. “Mm, are you going to fall asleep right there? Awfully cute of you, kitty-cat.”

 

“Nope, but kitties still know the warmest place to sleep, so I found it, if I do,” Natsume sighs, nosing against Kaoru’s neck.

 

The front door swings open again, producing a rather snow-frosted Rei with Ritsu in his arms. “Of course, now it starts to snow,” he sighs, kicking the door shut quietly behind himself. “This is how we truly die, from a blizzard. Hello, Natsume.”

 

“Nnff.”

 

“Very good. Time to put you to bed with Mao, Ritsu love, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you~”

 

“Yaaay,” Ritsu says around a yawn, brightening and squirming down from his brother’s arms. “Where’s Mao? I’m going to eat him really gentle.”

 

“The other room there. Be very nice to him, he’s been a good boy. Ah…don’t mind Kanata’s swimming tub, just ask him not to splash you if you’re not into that.”

 

 _Too many people,_ is Natsume’s errant, grumpy thought that slides into Kaoru’s mind.

 

“I could get splashed,” Ritsu says unconcernedly, slinking off into the next room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

 

_Want to find our own little nook? Rei would take the prince if I asked. I bet we could steal the stables. We’d warm it up in no time._

 

_…Yeah. That sounds good. This many people makes my head hurt, it’s noisy…_

 

“If you two want to cuddle more effectively, I don’t mind taking the prince until Izumi wakes up,” Rei gently says, dropping down in front of the fire. “Your arms look a little full there, Kaoru.”

 

Kaoru smiles up at Rei. “You always could read my mind without any telepathy. Here, he’s fat and cute and really sleepy.” Kaoru hands up the baby, then stands, Natsume under his arm. “We’ll be in the stables. Don’t bother me unless the world explodes, I’m begging you.”

 

“I’ll manage even through that for a few hours, at least,” Rei cheerfully replies, settling back with the baby quite contently.

 

Natsume gratefully snuggles into Kaoru’s side, one hand fisted into his cloak. “I want,” he determinedly says, “to pet your horse’s nose.”

 

“Flattery to my horse will get you everywhere,” Kaoru assures Natsume. “Honor’s a good boy. I have to untack him anyway, I just got, ah, a little sidetracked when I saw you.”

 

“He _looked_ like a good boy. He definitely wanted snacks.”

 

“You got carrots stuffed into the pockets of that dress? Or are we going empty-handed?”

 

Natsume pauses, eyes narrowing. “Hold on.”

 

He pulls away, trudging his way back through the house and into the bedroom, where his presence only produces a low, grumbling noise after a moment. He emerges again, hands full of candies that he stuffs into the currently relatively loose ‘pocket’ of his corset. “Izumi’s been around Mika. This happens. So I pickpocketed him. Let’s go.”

 

“Don’t load him up on candy,” Kaoru complains without much rancor, following after Natsume’s skirts. “Don’t those things have pockets? They should make skirts with pockets.”

 

“They don’t. They wouldn’t be as fluffy if they had pockets and people put things in them all the time,” Natsume matter-of-factly says. “Honor can have candy if he wants. He _was_ a good boy, wasn’t he?”

 

“Of course he was a good boy. He saved the world or something, and _not_ for the first time. Wait, skirts _never_ have pockets?”

 

“Umm…usually, no? At least, not the ones noblewomen wear…” Natsume takes one foot into the snow, and tries not to shriek. Out of spite, he starts angrily melting it. “I _hate the North._ ”

 

“Whoa, whoa, you’re going to make it all soggy,” Kaoru protests with a laugh, and crouches down. “Hop up on my back, I’ve got long enough legs.”

 

“Mud is so much better than snow,” Natsume crossly says, then huffs, obeying without another protest as he climbs Kaoru’s back and clings to his shoulders. “You still smell good.”

 

Kaoru doesn’t bother enlightening him that snow is absolutely better than mud, in any way that makes sense. “You don’t have snow on the Isles, do you?” he asks, lips curling as he lifts Natsume onto his back, heading for the stables. “You never got to do all the fun stuff. Like making snow demons, or having snow missile wars with your friends.”

 

“It never snows there,” Natsume confirms, nuzzling his face down into Kaoru’s hair with a content sigh. “There’s nothing fun about snow, anyway, so that’s fine. It just rains there…a lot.”

 

“Eh, fine, when we have kids, I’ll be the one who plays with them in the snow, you can teach them how to summon fire portals or whatever.”

 

“I’m sterile and not a shapeshifter,” Natsume idly points out. “Just steal Izumi’s kids. They’re cuter. And always quiet.”

 

“They are _really_ cute,” Kaoru agrees cheerfully. “I might just take in some orphans once we’re settled. Wouldn’t be my first time.”

 

“Just pretend to be the dad of all the baby wizards that come in after they bloom,” Natsume murmurs. “Most of them are orphans, anyway. It’s actually pretty rare that nobles bloom…and if they do, they’re like Lord Shu. Sort of…defunct. Don’t tell him I said that, ever.”

 

“I don’t even know what you mean by it,” Kaoru admits. “I am a nobleman in my own right, you know. Hey, does it bother you that I’m married? I didn’t think to ask before.”

 

“I mean that his family has no money. Not that anyone would know, unless they looked it up, but…” Natsume shrugs. “It’s a big deal, when a noble blooms. Apparently when Tori did, the previous Emperor himself went to pick him up, and had to smooth over all the relations with the crown…it was bad. And Lord Rei came to get _me_ …” He trails off, and shrugs again, more uncomfortably. “As long as Lord Rei isn’t upset with me…it’s fine. No one gets married in the Isles, so I don’t really see the point.”

 

“Mm, all right, then. If it doesn’t bother you, I won’t mess with it. At this point…” He laughs, almost to himself. “It’s more inertia than anything else. We haven’t really been a couple for a decade. It’s just kind of part of my identity.”

 

“Mmm. It probably does a great job of pissing your family off, too, so that’s good for something, huh.”

 

“I do like pissing them off.” Kaoru sighs, and steps across the threshold of the stable. “Honor! Oh, good, someone untacked you. Natsume, how familiar are you with horses? Wanna help me give him a rubdown?”

 

“I’m good with horses,” Natsume says, sliding off of Kaoru’s back with a shiver, and immediately tying Rei’s cloak tighter around himself. “But I especially like feeding them.”

 

“Well, yeah, that’s the fun part,” Kaoru says with a grin. He unlatches Honor’s stall door, and enters with a brush and currycomb in hand, nodding to Natsume. “Feed him all you want. He’s a big boy, he needs plenty.”

 

“His head is almost bigger than me,” Natsume mutters as the horse drops his head down to sniff at Natsume, and then promptly try to stuff his nose down his corset. “Oi. Manners. You’re as bad as your father,” he flatly says, even as he fishes out a few pieces of candy and hands them over.

 

“True, his sire was actually much worse.” Kaoru’s voice is fond as he starts to curry off the dried sweat. “Same name, of course. He actually died in battle, about…oh, twelve years ago? Last time I fought in something like a war. This boy’s already sired the next Honor, probably, but he’s got lots of good stud years left. Good fighting years, too, but not too many.”

 

“I was talking about _you_ , a gross pervert, because everyone knows whoever owns a horse is also their parent, but I also appreciate hearing the history of your child.” Natsume gives Honor another candy for his trouble. “Is that why Lord Rei likes riding mares? So even your horses flirt?” he deadpans.

 

“He just likes to make me look stupid. I ride in on my big old warhorse, and then he frolicks in and makes Honor crazy with lust.” Kaoru pauses. “I do think it also turns him on when they inevitably mount, though. It’s not _not_ hot.”

 

Natsume rolls his eyes. “You’re both stupid,” he decides.

 

Natsume rolls his eyes. “You’re both stupid,” he decides, nearly getting knocked over when Honor tries to shake him down for  _more_  candy. “Ugh. Ow. On the Isles, horses are  _never_  this big.” 

  


  


“Hey, don’t let him get away with that. Grab his halter, give him a shake if he tries. He knows better.”

  


  


“He’s just hungry. You should feed him more.” 

  


  


“Tell me how many ribs you can see.”

  


  


“Look at him, he’s starving,” Natsume sniffs, handing over more candy as Honor happily lips it out of his fingers. 

  


  


“Then don’t give him treats, a hungry horse needs good oat mash. It’s right outside the stall, warm up some some snow and mix it in.” Kaoru laughs. “I promise he gets fed plenty, but if you really want to see a happy horse, give him some mash.”

  


  


“I dunno, he seems pretty happy about this,” Natsume dubiously says, even as he forks over the last bit of candy on his person and steps out of the stall to do as much. Rei’s mare pins her ears from the next stall over, and Natsume ignores her. “Hello to you, too,” he dismisses, scooping up enough snow to melt into the mash. “That’s not a pretty face. Have you ever seen a demon horse’s foal, Kaoru? They’re weird and spindly.” 

  


  


“Their tails are forked at the end, too. You have to look closely, because of all the hair, but it’s there,” Kaoru assures him, switching to the brush to finish one side of Honor’s coat. “I know, I know, you’re getting so fuzzy. Don’t give me that look, the ladies love it. They like a big boy who’s ready for winter. You hear your ladyfriend out there making a nuisance of herself?”

  


  


Ritsu—the mare version—screams, and kicks the side of her stall as hard as possible.

  


“The horses in the Isles are  _much_  less weird,” Natsume grunts, hauling the much heavier bucket into Honor’s stall. “Spotted, though. You don’t see that on the Mainland. Once, some tourist tried to steal one and stick it on their boat.”

  


  


“You’ve got the weird fat short ones, right?” Kaoru asks, ducking under Honor’s neck to start currying his other side. “The ones that look like ponies, with the really stout legs?”

  


  


“They’re not weird. They’re cute. And they have spots, which is vastly superior.” Natsume nudges the bucket over to Honor, who immediately stuffs his whole head inside of it. “Very good.” 

  


  


“Isn’t he cute?” Kaoru asks, affection warm in his tone. “Gods, I missed this horse. I don’t use him much except when there’s a battle, but once you train a horse like this, it  _stays_ trained. He hates pleasure rides and distance rides, though.”

  


  


“Yeah? Same. What’s the point, work is better.” Natsume briefly leans against the stall door, zoning out for a moment, staring out and through the stable walls before snapping back to focus a few breaths later. “Too many people.”

 

 

“Too many people? In the walls?”

 

“No. Around. Below? Dunno.” He shakes himself off like he’s been doused in water. “I can’t wait to go sit in a wizard’s tower for awhile…it blocks everything out. People have a lot in their heads that they don’t say, and it just flutters over to me, sometimes.”

 

“Is someone being noisy?” Kaoru asks, coming up behind Natsume, wrapping his arms around his waist from behind. “Who’s making a racket, hmm? Is it Mao? I just get a weird feeling it’s Mao.”

 

“I don’t try to poke too much. If I do, that gets a little…” Natsume trails off, head thunking back against Kaoru’s shoulder. “Invasive? I don’t like to read people’s minds without permission, just like I don’t like to tell them their fortunes. It’s not Mao, though; his thoughts don’t spill.”

 

“Izumi?” Kaoru guesses. “There’s not that many people here. Just—“ Something presses on his mind, and he winces. “Oh, babies have _loud_ minds, huh?”

 

“…Yes.” Natsume stares up at him. “They do. Babies are _always_ loud.”

 

“You stare too much.” Kaoru kisses Natsume on the forehead. “If you were a prostitute, you’d never make money.”

 

“I…w-what? What does that even mean?!”

 

“Whores need to be cute. They have to show their customers pretty faces. You don’t care. It’s adorable, but I can’t help but think, that wouldn’t be a good backup career for you.”

 

“Um! It’s never going to be a backup career for me? You’re right, I’d be a terrible whore, I don’t like anyone and I don’t see why I should have to fake it!”

 

“So, why are you glaring at me, kitty-cat? All I did was say babies are loud.”

 

“I wasn’t glaring. I was just looking at you…because it’s weird that you can notice that, too. You suck at telepathy.”

 

“I didn’t really notice it,” Kaoru admits. “I remembered from earlier. That it was going to happen. You must have said something.”

 

“I didn’t, though…nnhh, this is weird, you’re weird. Maybe it’s the bond. I should try poking at it again.”

 

“Noooo,” Kaoru pleads, letting go of Natsume and holding up his hands. “I feel good, I don’t want to do that.”

 

“What if I was reeeeally gentle?” Natsume wheedles, turning around and wiggling his fingers. “Just a little touch. If you puke, I’ll hold your hair back and everything.”

 

“Nnnh…do better, if I puke promise that you’ll let me make love to you for an hour or something.”

 

Natsume’s eyes narrow. “You’re going to puke on purpose if I promise that.”

 

“Oh, no, my cunning plan to vomit my way under your skirts, scuttled!”

 

“Well, you _are!_ I know how you are! Total perverts don’t change.”

 

“If I was letting myself be a _total_ pervert around you, you’d already have hay in your hair, sweetheart.”

 

Natsume’s mouth opens, then shuts, and he takes a huffy, flustered step back, folding his arms. “Maybe you’re behaving yourself because you wouldn’t do that in front of the horses. They’re innocent.”

 

Kaoru barks out a laugh. “I’ve done a lot worse in front of my horses. In front of plenty of horses. If I thought you were into it, I’d happily have your ankles up around your ears by now.”

 

“ _First_ of all, how dare you—leave the horses out of this, they don’t need to see that. Second of all, my ankles don’t need to be that high! Third of all—“ Natsume huffs again, looking away. “What did I do this time to make you think I wouldn’t…be into it?”

 

“You—“

 

Kaoru cocks his head, and slowly leans back against the stall door. “Listen, kid. I’m a simple man. I like to hit things with swords, and keep innocent folks out of trouble. You know when I like to make a move on someone pretty? Seriously.”

 

“…The fact you keep calling me ‘kid’ tells me everything I need to know,” Natsume mutters, suddenly exhausted, and abruptly pushes the stall door open, walking out. “It’s fine, keep being simple, then.”

 

Kaoru catches Natsume’s arm, holding him firmly. “You’re misunderstanding,” he says, not letting him leave. “Seriously. Just wait.”

 

“Fine, spit it out, then,” Natsume unhappily says. “Because obviously, I’m not getting it.”

 

Once it looks like Natsume’s not running, Kaoru releases his arm, and cups his face instead. “Natsume. I was trying to be cute, that’s all. And just telling you…like I said, simple. When someone as pretty as you makes a move on me, that’s when I know they’re into it. I just like to be invited, because when I was young, I made a really disgusting nuisance of myself, and I’m trying to be a better man than that.”

 

“…But I already said you could once,” Natsume mumbles, his eyes sliding away even though he doesn’t pull his face out of Kaoru’s hands. “And we’re bonded, so…”

 

Kaoru crouches slightly, meeting Natsume’s eyes with his own. “But if I did that, if I just helped myself every time I wanted to…only a monster would do that. It’s not vulgar to ask for what you want, you know. It’s not uncute. I think it’s really hot, actually.”

 

“…Mm.” Natsume hesitates, then slowly grabs for a handful of Kaoru’s tunic. “I used to think…I was being really obvious,” he mutters, his eyes lowering again. “But…it took forever for Tsumugi to touch me, even when I was honest about it…the same with Wataru. I figured…it’s because I was being uncute or whatever. It’s been easier to not ask, so then I don’t get an answer I don’t want.”

 

“There’s not much you can do that I’ll find uncute,” Kaoru says softly, wrapping his arms around Natsume. “And I’ll pretty much never give you the answer you don’t want. I always want to touch you, kitty-cat. I’m just always waiting for an invitation. That’s part of who I am. It’s…it’s respect. I respect your right to want me, or to tell me to fuck off.”

 

“But I don’t want you to fuck off, ever,” Natsume mumbles, stuffing his face down into Kaoru’s neck and inhaling. “I want you to make me feel good. I want _you_ to feel good.”

 

“Good.” Kaoru presses a kiss to the top of Natsume’s head. “I want all that, too. And we can do that whenever we want. This is important to me, yeah? I never, never want you to be hurt because of something I did. If I invited you to my house once, would you think it was fine to walk inside and help yourself to my food from then on, whenever you wanted?”

 

“I mean—that _is_ the way a lot of people on the Mainland seem to act.”

 

“Do I?” Kaoru asks, very quietly.

 

“I…well…no…”

 

Kaoru smiles. “I’m glad you think that well of me, at least. Is this…too much of a burden? I…I mean, honestly, I think we’ve been so busy this last week that I’ve given you a bad idea of how much…or rather, how _often_ I’m going to be making moves on you. And I am going to be, you know—I’m not a saint, just a paladin. I just want you to know that you can _also_ make moves on me, and I’ll always be happy about it.”

 

Natsume sucks in a slow breath, fighting down the dozen snippy retorts that want to escape, and grabs Kaoru by the front of his cloak instead, giving him a firm shake. “You are proooooving my point,” he grinds out. “I appreciate it, _really,_ but do I seriously have to say it even _more_ plainly? ‘I don’t want you to fuck off, I want you to make me feel good, I want you to feel good’—how else do I say it? I don’t want to be gross about it! Why is Lord Rei the only one that pays attention, huh?”

 

Kaoru holds up his hands, helpless. “I don’t mean I can’t ever take a hint! I just mean that I’d like them in certain circumstances! Here, here, I know you like specific examples. Earlier, we were talking. I said I’d like to have sex, if I thought you were into it. That’s me, hitting on you. But you looked sad, and wanted to know what you said that made me think you _didn’t_ want it. All you have to do at times like that is encourage me, baby. Or just say, ‘I want you,’ or, ‘put some hay in my hair,’ or something. Anything, I promise I’ll try to pay attention. And it’s _not_ gross.”

 

“Nnnnnn…” Natsume gives him another shake, just because he can, then looks away, still embarrassed in spite of the encouragement. “T-then…don’t make me ask again. Put some hay in my hair already.”

 

“How could I turn down such a cute request?”

 

And because Kaoru absolutely wants to drive home the idea that _asking gets rewarded_ , he dumps Natsume immediately onto a haystack, following him down with a lewd grin, one hand already going to slide his skirts up from the ankle to the thigh. “You don’t have to keep your ankles up as high as I said, though. They’ll be fine wrapped around my waist.”

 

Natsume falls back with a pleased squeak, his face flushed even as he grabs for the front of Kaoru’s tunic and doesn’t let go. “They go that high,” he insistently says, “but what’s the point? Nn, watch out, sharp things,” he warns with a shivery, tense sigh as Kaoru’s hands start to drag up his thighs.

 

“Hay isn’t that—oh, the knives.” Kaoru laughs, and leans down, pressing kisses to Natsume’s creamy thighs, noting some rather intriguing marks and callouses from the knives strapped semi-permanently around them. “Can I take them off? I think it’d be a little more dangerous to fuck with them on, but if that’s what you want, I’m game to try anything that makes you hot.”

 

The muscle underneath skin twitches, tense and trembling underneath the heat of Kaoru’s mouth. “You can…take them off,” Natsume faintly says, his eyes fluttering. “Just don’t lose them in the hay, that’s a bad idea, too…”

 

“I won’t lose them. I’m a little more careful than that.”

 

Kaoru unbuckles both straps, and tosses them back over his shoulders. “But for the moment…no more focus on bad ideas. Only good and cute ideas. You’re good and cute.” He feathers kisses over those thighs, and slides his hand up between, rubbing his thumb gently against the head of Natsume’s cock. “This is good and cute, too.”

 

Natsume’s breath hiccups, and he grabs for Kaoru’s hand before he can stop himself, trembling as he looks down at him. “I really… _really_ don’t want to come too fast this time,” he says, his voice almost pleading. “I want to enjoy this. And if…if you keep talking to me, maybe I won’t have visions and it’ll be easier…”

 

“Natsume,” Kaoru says softly, squeezing back, “your wish is my command. Just promise me. If you do come too fast, don’t get angry. Just relax, and I’ll make you come again, and again.”

 

“I…nggghh, it’s not just that part, it makes other visions start showing up and then I can’t…” Natsume huffs out a hot breath and lets his head flop back into the hay. “Fine. I’ll try.”

 

“Relax, sweetheart. This is going to be fun, I promise.”

 

Kaoru crawls up, and nearly attacks Natsume’s neck, nipping and kissing at it, remembering how much he’d liked that before, shifting to get his hips between Natsume’s thighs. “I want to be in you. You’ll let me in, right?”

 

Natsume’s thighs tremble before squeezing tight about Kaoru’s hips, then slide up a bit higher as his toes curl. “Y-yes,” he whispers, blunt nails dragging up against Kaoru’s scalp as his head tips back further, a breathy gasp leaving his throat as he arches up. Feeling Kaoru heavy and warm between his legs make him shiver again, his tongue wetting his lower lip as he sucks in a ragged breath. “I miss the way it felt…that first time…”

 

“But this time, you can do that little spell, right?” Kaoru asks, reaching down to tug open the tie to his breeches, pulling his half-hard cock out to rub against one soft thigh. “The one that makes you all sweet and slick inside, so it feels like you’re as wet as a girl, pulling me in?”

 

Natsume’s breath hitches at the way Kaoru says that, more than anything, and his cheeks immediately tint a darker shade of pink. “Nnn…y-yeah,” he mumbles, turning his head aside as he sucks in a ragged breath, and forces himself to focus just long enough to summon that, squirming when he _feels_ how slick it leaves him inside. “I wish…I could really…” He trails off, definitely too embarrassed to finish that sentence.

 

Kaoru’s heard that sort of breathy exhalation too many times to think that Izumi’s wrong now. His smile sharpens wickedly, and he feels his cock harden the rest of the way, pressing up against that slick hole, working himself slowly inside. “A-ah, that feels…so good, so sweet. Good girl, taking me in so deep.”

 

The next noise Natsume makes is a low, rasping groan, the throaty sound startled out of him when his cock twitches hard between his legs, and he squeezes down hard around Kaoru’s cock, breath a little frantic. “Ahhh…f-fuck, wait, wait, please…” His fingers clench down against Kaoru’s shoulders, nails scraping down his back as he arches up, thighs clamping around Kaoru’s waist hard enough that he hears his own spine pop.

 

“Shh…”

 

Kaoru smoothes his hands down Natsume’s sides, then up again, rubbing his nipples through his shirt. “You don’t have to think. You just have to enjoy it. Let me fill you up. This isn’t magic, it’s just you, and me, and me in you, and you enjoying me in you.”

 

A strangled whimper leaves Natsume’s throat, and he flops his head back, dropping a hand back over his face as his chest heaves for a full breath. “I knooow,” he moans, feeling his nipples twitch and harden immediately underneath Kaoru’s touch. “I’m…e-enjoying it…too much, you…reeeeally…are good…”

 

“Nnh, I’m enjoying it, too. You’re so—fuck, you’re so tight and wet, makes me want to spill in you so deep it’ll never drip out of you,” Kaoru groans, sliding in deep, shifting until he finds that perfect angle, working his cock into Natsume over and over, driving him to a frenzy. “You really are…nnh, so good at this…”

 

Natsume squeaks when Kaoru’s cock slides in so deep that his eyes cross, his thighs clamping around Kaoru’s waist to hold him that deep for a moment. “R-right…there…” he whispers, going boneless in the hay for a moment, shivering and unable to relax. “A-ah…it’s…too much, but really good…call me…what you did before again…”

 

“You get _everything_ you ask for,” Kaoru purrs into Natsume’s ear, his cock hardening when Natsume is doing it, when he’s being honest, when he’s being squirmy and eager and horny and _hot_ underneath Kaoru. Kaoru drives in harder, getting his mouth on Natsume’s ear, all the better to whisper, “That’s a good girl, baby. Squeeze me with that tight cunt.”

 

Natsume’s voice breaks on a breathy whine, blunt nails raking down Kaoru’s back as he grinds down helplessly, too turned on to bother hiding any part of it. Kaoru’s voice in his ear, his cock buried deep inside, the hard, warm weight of him above him between his thighs—

 

“I—“ Natsume swallows noisily, trembling as he squeezes his eyes shut. “I wish…I really was…”

 

“You are for me tonight, love.” Kaoru can’t resist pressing a kiss to Natsume’s temple, and another kiss, and another kiss, until he’s thrusting hard, his voice ragged, his balls drawn up tight, his cock so hard it aches. “Girl, boy, I’ll love whatever body you’re in, I’ll always love you, baby, you’re _mine_ —say it, say it for me, and I’m gonna…”

 

It takes a moment to make _any_ words form on Natsume’s tongue when Kaoru’s cock feels so good inside of him that he can’t think, let alone _speak._ He clings to Kaoru’s back, shivering, panting, and he manages to gasp out, “I’m—yours, just—p-please—“

 

His voice breaks again, and he arches off the hay with a squeaking, whining groan, legs clamping around Kaoru’s waist as he finally, gratefully spills, his back arched so sharply that he _feels_ his spine pop again and then, leaves him bonelessly slumping down with each aftershock making him twitch anew. “Oh,” he whispers, sweaty and flushed as his head lolls. “Okay.”

 

With the patience of the very gods, Kaoru thinks, he comes to a pause, every muscle trembling, his back bowed, holding still even as sweat trickles down the back of his neck. “Are you…” His eyes cross for a moment, and he swallows hard, determined to ask the whole question. “Is it, are you, is it too sensitive if I…finish?”

 

Natsume blinks dazedly up at him, his eyes lidded and unfocused. “I _thought_ ,” he manages, “you wanted to knock me up.”

 

Kaoru’s control frays, then snaps. He’s probably too rough, when he lurches in, biting at Natsume’s neck, driving him into the sweet-smelling hay, filling him hard with cock again, and again, and _again_ , until his thighs shake, his hands tremble on the hay, and he feels his entire body convulse with pleasure, spilling deep inside of the lovely, pliant, _willing_ body beneath him.

 

Honor knickers when he groans and slumps over, which barely makes Kaoru huff. “Get your own pretty mare to breed,” he says drowsily, nuzzling the hair away from Natsume’s face. “This one’s all mine.”

 

 _That_ brings about a startling aftershock, making Natsume gasp and squeeze his thighs around Kaoru’s waist again as he shudders hard. “Mean,” he whispers, swatting uselessly at Kaoru’s shoulder, exhaling a shaky breath. “Don’t…don’t pull out, though. You feel good.”

 

“You feel like heaven.” Kaoru exhales a breath just past Natsume’s ear. “You make me want to do it again.”

 

“…You can.” Natsume noses directly into Kaoru’s sweaty hair with another, tiny shiver. “I can’t Hear anyone else now.”

 

“Good. All your attention…it should be on me.”

 

Kaoru rolls them, so that he’s lying on the prickling hay, gazing up at Natsume with eyes that are frankly adoring. “Want to ride me? You don’t have to, I just think...you’re absolutely gorgeous, and I want to watch you move.”

 

Natsume makes a huffy, surprised little sound that’s not at all annoyed as he suddenly finds himself resituating, his thighs trembling a bit in protest. “I can. Just…nhh, give me a minute, I’m all shaky,” he bemoans, slumping forward into Kaoru’s chest.

 

“Good. Shaky means you’re having a good time, yeah?” Kaoru smiles encouragingly, rubbing his hands up and down Natsume’s thighs. “Nnh…I can feel how wet you are inside now, you feel that? Like you’re trying to suck me in.”

 

“Nnn…that’s because I _am_ , you’re not allowed to pull out,” Natsume murmurs, nuzzling up into Kaoru’s neck with a shivery exhale as his hands slide up to Kaoru’s shoulders, bracing himself. “You feel too good in there,” he breathes, his eyes fluttering shut as he wriggles down slowly.

 

Kaoru’s breath catches, his eyes glazing a little when Natsume moves on him. “You’re…nnh, no one feels like you, I could stay in you forever,” he breathes, his hands sliding up to Natsume’s back, unlacing the rather loose corset strings completely, pulling it free and tossing it into the hay. “Let me watch you…make yourself feel good on me, baby.”

 

Natsume’s fingers dig in as he rocks down, his mouth falling open as he slides back down all the way onto Kaoru’s cock. He squeezes down hard, trying to brace his knees better into the hay. “Your cock…is really the best,” he dazedly says, reaching a hand back to unwind his hair, letting it tumble down and forward over his shoulders when he moves. “E-everyone else…is a _liar_ when they say theirs is any good…”

 

The sight of Natsume is almost enough to make Kaoru come again, and he groans, head falling back onto the hay, his thighs trembling as he flexes up into that sweet, welcoming body, feeling it grow and lengthen again inside of Natsume. “I never want to take anyone else like this,” he whispers, startling even himself when he realizes he’s serious.

 

“Good, you’re not allowed to,” Natsume gasps, his head tipping forward as he rocks down harder, the muscles in his thighs bunching and aching each time he moves. That doesn’t stop him from wanting more, even when his sore muscles start to complain and remind him this takes _effort_. “This…this is mine, so you have to give it to me…w-whenever I want…”

 

“Yours,” Kaoru groans, his hands coming to rest on Natsume’s waist, guiding him with every thrust, easing him up and down, his own thighs flexing and tensing with the rhythm Natsume sets. “You said you’re mine…and you are, sweetheart, you are…and, ah, I’m yours, too, whatever, whenever, I’m _yours_.”

 

Natsume _tries_ to think of words, but his voice breaks, and he’s reduced to panting, ragged whimpers as he works himself on Kaoru’s cock, his hands trembling against Kaoru’s chest as he tries to brace himself even when he too shaky to even _move_.

 

Mercifully, Kaoru’s hands pull him just right, and his body gives in, making him muffle an overstimulated sob behind one hand as he sags forward, spilling hard over Kaoru’s stomach.

 

A fierce surge of satisfaction flows through Kaoru, and his hands grip in hard, moving Natsume up and down, holding him finally in place as he growls low in his throat, groaning loud when his orgasm rips through him, dragging pleasure, eager, hot pleasure out of him with every thrust, and he floods Natsume’s hole again, feeling that heat spill around his cock. “That…ah…nnh,” he says, then gives up words, flopping back onto the hay. “Ah.”

 

Natsume exhales a long, shaky sigh, then promptly flops forward into Kaoru’s chest with a muffled gurgle of a groan. “Sure,” he mumbles. “Okay. That’s not fair.”

 

“Who’re you mad at?” Kaoru asks dazedly. “Me? You? The bond? Anyone who told you sex wasn’t that good?”

 

“Me…because now I’m never gonna get anything done…”

 

“Wrong. We’re gonna get a lot of _this_ done.”

 

“Not the saaaame.” Natsume groans, nuzzling his face up into Kaoru’s sweaty hair. “You’re good.”

 

“It takes two,” Kaoru murmurs, brushing the loose hair back from Natsume’s shoulders. “You’re just as good, little love.”

 

“Nnn. No, it’s you. You’re good.” Natsume exhales, his eyes lidding as he’s petted. “Keep doing that, and I’ll stay like this longer.”

 

“As long as you want.” Kaoru’s hand never stops. “I can be a perpetual petting machine.”

 

“…do you think we’ll get stuck together? Seed is so sticky…” Natsume does not seem concerned enough to move. “But…mmn. Thanks. I needed to feel good.”

 

“Me too.” Kaoru stretches slightly, then relaxes again, hand never stopping the petting motion. “Let’s do this lots. Until we get stuck together.”

 

It’s an excellent idea—for the next ten minutes that Natsume actually dozes off and gets to sleep.

 

He wakes, groggy, sticky, and with dried sweat making him rethink his decisions. “Ah. Sorry,” he mumbles, slowly sitting up with a grimace. “Let’s…do some laundry out here, maybe…”

 

“Out here?” Kaoru asks drowsily around a yawn. “In the stables?”

 

“Mmhm. More water and places to hang things than inside.” Natsume shifts, then winces, then sulks once he slouches back down. “Help.”

 

“I pulled out a long time ago, love,” Kaoru assures him. “You’re just sticky. Maybe sore? I didn’t hurt you, right?”

 

“…No. Sore. And thighs don’t wanna work.” Natsume flops back into Kaoru’s chest. “If we are really glued together, I’m going to scream.”

 

“We’re not,” Kaoru assures, nuzzling against Natsume’s hair. “If we are, water solves the problem, surely a wizard can summon a little of that.”

 

“Shhh.” Natsume places a hand over Kaoru’s mouth. “Don’t be logical. I’m thinking of excuses to not do things. Ah, but I really am too sticky to live, this cannot continue.”

 

Slowly, painstakingly, he hauls himself onto wobbling legs, smoothing his skirts down long enough to drag himself to the nearest full tub of water. “Bring me your clothes, unless you want to continue to be gross. That’s not really an option,” he says as he strips, pins up his hair, and dunks everything. “Just so you know.”

 

“Clothes?” Kaoru asks, amused as he stretches out on the hay. “My breeches are over there, I think I’m technically still wearing my shirt…did you see me bringing bags of luggage with us to the Svalde? This is what I have. And my cloak. Maybe Izumi has something that’ll fit me, we are sort of in his house.”

 

“That’s all I’m talking about, you idiot. I’ve done your laundry once before, now give me your shirt because you _definitely_ have come on it.”

 

“But what’ll I wear while you’re cleaning them?” Kaoru asks, stripping off his shirt as he does. “It’s cold up here, it’ll take ages for them to dry.”

 

“Magic fixes that, trust me.” Natsume plucks the shirt out of Kaoru’s grasp, as well as his breeches off the ground, and begins scrubbing. “Do you know why Mainlanders always die of plague? They aren’t clean.”

 

“Don’t be silly, everyone knows it’s plague demons.”

 

“No. It’s a lack of cleanliness. Have you ever heard of the plague coming to the Isles? I think not. It’s because we ceremonially bathe twice daily and refuse to wear filthy clothes. Ugh, I can’t wait until I get to go home and not wear the same _thing_ …”

 

Natsume slings the wet clothes over the edge of a stall door, and leaves low flaring, green flame cast over them as he wraps and pins his hair up. “Did Lord Rei talk to you about what he’s doing next, by the way? About the Sorrow’s Gate…about those other two archdemons. I just want to be done…”

 

“He mostly just cuddled his brother,” Kaoru informs him, scratching lazily at his belly. “Can you send some of that warm water over here? I’m sticky, too. Are you _sure_ it’s not because plague demons don’t swim?”

 

“I’m sure. There’s nothing magical about it, it’s science. Ah, here,” Natsume sighs, heatingup the water with another flash of fire before dragging the bucket over. “Splash however much you want. Did he seriously just pet Ritsu? Honestly, he gets far too relaxed too quickly…”

 

“Believe me, I agree. I’ve always thought he gets too relaxed.” Kaoru grins, dipping a hand in the water and tipping it out on his belly, wiping it through the mess. “Though, sometimes, that’s a really nice change. It works pretty well with my pace, too.”

 

“Wouldn’t it be better,” Natsume _patiently_ replies, “if all the work was done quickly, and then we could all relax for a much longer period of time?”

 

“No way. Something always comes up if you do that. Better to relax whenever you can, for as long as you can. The world’s going to force you to do shit eventually, no matter what.”

 

Natsume exhales a strangled noise of protest at that, and turns to tear a piece of fabric off the ragged bottom of his skirts. “Then I guess I’ll always be doing things,” he mutters, soaking it before vigorously scrubbing his own skin clean. “I hate being idle. You both stress me.”

 

“The only times in my life I hated being idle,” Kaoru muses, “are the times that I didn’t like what was in my own head. I found some peace, and now I love doing nothing.”

 

Natsume stares at him, then hoists up the bucket, and dumps half of it over his head. “That’s not going to work for me,” he says, dumping the rest over himself before shaking dry rather like a dog. “Especially when you and Lord Rei were talking about rebuilding the relationship between the Shadowlands and paladins. I eavesdropped a little.”

 

Kaoru just lays there in the water, blinking slowly. “Ah. Nothing like a nice shower. Fine, fine, we do things, why does that make you happy to know? Now I just feel like putting even more effort into laziness…”

 

“I’m not working with a lazy paladin clan leader or whatever you’ll call yourself _and_ a lazy Demon King _and_ a nutcase of a ‘king.’”

 

“Eh…so it’s fine if I tell one of them to change their ways?”

 

“Yes. And you’re going to set the good example.”

 

“You make it sound so much harder than defeating a god in fair combat.”

 

Natsume’s lips purse, and he finishes drying their clothes with another flick of magic before tossing Kaoru’s back atop him. “You make me tired.”

 

Kaoru sighs, and takes his clothes. “Don’t be like that, I’m just playing around because it’s more fun than sitting here in silence. See? I do have hobbies.”

 

“I think it’s cuter when you talk about your sword and how cool it is, or your horse, or tell me about paladin things.” Natsume refastens his own clothing. “Intelligent, _useful_ men are sexy. Now come tighten my corset.”

 

Kaoru stands, tugging his shirt on, letting it fall to his knees as he reaches for Natsume’s strings. “I’ve spent a really long time being intelligent and useful. Don’t you ever want to take a break? That doesn’t mean you’re not still going to do it, you just need to recharge a little. Lie fallow, like a field in rotation.”

 

“I don’t think that works when you’re trying to lead by example, though,” Natsume says after a moment’s contemplation. “It’s one thing in private, I suppose…but it’s stressful, thinking about how that can leak into day to day life. You can yank hard.”

 

“I know how you like it by now. Just let me know if it’s too much.” Kaoru yanks, bracing as well as he can, then deftly tying it off. “Don’t think about it so much, I’d say. If you want me to do specific things, you can just bully me, you’re good at that.”

 

“You _are_ very malleable when it comes to such things…ah, very good, you’re the only one other than Lord Shu that yanks tightly enough,” Natsume hums, straightening his clothes before turning around, eyeing Kaoru, and then leaning up onto his toes to hesitantly steal a kiss. “I’m only worrying because I know Lord Rei wants to leave sooner, rather than later…which means a _lot_ more for me to do.”

 

“What is it they want _you_ to do?” Kaoru asks, head cocked as he allows himself to be kissed, then kneels down, lifting Natsume’s skirts to strap on his daggers.

 

That’s a little hot. Natsume blinks distractedly for a moment, then looks away, cheeks flushed. “W-well. As soon as Lord Rei leaves…he’s going to appoint me as the Emperor.”

 

“Oh. Right.” Kaoru nods slowly, turning that over in his mind. “I hadn’t thought of it in those terms, but I knew he wanted to leave. I thought you meant leave this cottage, but you mean the whole human realm.”

 

“Yes, idiot. Listen to the full scope of the conversation, this is why I think relaxing is useless.”

 

Kaoru shrugs. “So you’re going to be Emperor. Is it going to be any better if you worry about it first?”

 

“Yes. Because then I can plan ahead. Please get off of your knees, it’s very distracting to talk to you when you’re on the ground.”

 

“I’m adjusting. Don’t you feel adjusted?” Kaoru’s thumb brushes the soft skin on the inside of Natsume’s thigh, just above the strap.

 

“…I don’t think this is adjusting.” Natsume sets a hand on Kaoru’s head, mussing his hair as he leans forward. “I think this is just you, liking to be under my skirts.”

 

“Mm, someone told me once that I was a total pervert. I’d hate to disappoint that person.” Kaoru looks up at Natsume through lidded eyes, his hands stroking gently. “But you went to all the trouble of cleaning up, I’d hate to get you all messy again so fast…”

 

“I don’t _really_ trust you not to make a mess.” Natsume gives his hair a gentle tug. “So you only get to be a total pervert if you can keep that in mind.”

 

Kaoru’s eyes glint, and he dives under those skirts, seeking and finding Natsume’s hardening cock with his mouth, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. His hands rest on those thighs, but slide around, cupping the backs of his thighs, pulling him in closer to where he kneels, his mouth hot and hungry.

 

Natsume bites back a startled squeak, his legs wobbling for a moment as he gets his bearings. “J-just be aware—you aren’t always going to be able to make me stop thinking about work like this,” he half-heartedly warns, trailing off in a groan as he grabs for Kaoru’s shoulders when that hot, wet mouth closes over his cock.

 

Kaoru pulls off, cupping Natsume’s cock in one hand, squeezing his ass with the other, just long enough to say, “Just so you know, this isn’t a shortcut to a reward for me. This is the reward. You taste…so sweet, kitty-cat.”

 

Then he delves back down, tongue curling around that hardening length, letting two long fingers dip back, questing up between Natsume’s thighs, brushing lightly over his sore hole.

 

Natsume’s legs nearly give way, and his hands drag up to brace into Kaoru’s hair instead, twisting up through it as he exhales a breathy moan. “Be nice,” he pleads before he can bite his tongue, overstimulated enough that just the touch of Kaoru’s fingers makes him question his ability to _not_ come immediately. “T-that’s…a lot…”

 

Kaoru almost pulls off again, but sinks down lower instead, mouthing eagerly over Natsume’s cock, keeping the touch of his fingers light, questioning, without pressure. _You want them in you?_ he asks, rather enjoying this new way of talking with his mouth full, at least for this occasion. _Or do you just want the front for now?_

 

Telepathy during anything sexual sure is _something_. The shudder that slithers down Natsume’s spine nearly ends him, and his fingers clench into Kaoru’s hair as his cock throbs against his tongue. _Just—just the front, I don’t think I can—_

 

Using telepathy actually might have been a bit of a mistake. Another, vague flash of a vision obscures his focus for a moment, but that’s all it takes before Natsume gasps, hips twitching forward to bury his cock into Kaoru’s mouth when he abruptly spills. “Sorry—sorry—“ he groans, slumping forward as his legs tremble.

 

Kaoru swallows diligently, his eyes glazing over with slow, delighted hunger as he does, finally pulling off and under Natsume’s skirts, licking his lips. “Clean as requested,” he says, as gallantly as he can. “I didn’t miss a drop. No need to apologize, sweet.”

 

Natsume’s legs fully buckle then, and he hits the stable floor with a long shudder. “At least it didn’t happen before,” he dazedly says, flopping his head into Kaoru’s shoulder.

 

“You know,” Kaoru says, trying not to sound like an asshole, “doing that, what I did, that’s, ah, not the easiest thing in the world, for most guys…most guys, I’m not saying me, but most guys, they wouldn’t necessarily mind if you did that quickly.”

 

Natsume lifts his head from Kaoru’s shoulder after a moment. “I _like_ having a dick in my mouth,” he slowly says, “and even I would like for it to be pretty fast. Jaw cramps aren’t good.”

 

Kaoru grins. “I wouldn’t say I like it, but I _love_ watching what it does to someone I really like. Jaw cramps are the worst for sure. So don’t apologize, it’s great.”

 

“You couldn’t even watch me, you were under my skirts,” Natsume half-heartedly complains, even as he snuggles into Kaoru’s chest. “But…good. Telepathy triggers it a little, so do that if you want me to come fast, I guess!”

 

“I was just trying to talk to you without moving my mouth,” Kaoru admits, “but I’m not unhappy with the result. Good to know!”

 

“Mmnf. Carry me back to the cottage.” Natsume slings his arms more thoroughly about Kaoru’s shoulders. “My legs don’t work. And I want to be _properly_ warm.”

 

Kaoru’s not entirely sure his arms work either, but he gives it a go, swinging Natsume up into his arms and heading back for the cottage. “Be warm in my arms, then, my darling. And sleep as long as you can.”

 

Natsume mumbles something unintelligible (but arguably affectionate) as he stuffs his face into Kaoru’s neck, snuggles against him, and passes out.

 

It’s Rei that glances up when the cottage door eventually opens, unmoving by the fire with the baby still in his arms, looking fairly unconscious. “Hello, love,” he greets, patting to a spot on the furs next to him. “Have a relaxing visit with the horses?”

 

“I got hay in Natsume’s hair,” Kaoru says placidly, settling onto the couch next to Rei, Natsume sleeping on his lap. “As desired. How’s the prince?”

 

“Adorable. And so well-behaved. I think he likes the cold, actually,” Rei absently says, readjusting the swaddling, much to the prince’s lack of concern. “I’m glad you two had fun. You both needed that…Natsume really is a tough one, isn’t he?”

 

Kaoru looks down at Natsume’s sleeping face, and whatever he was about to say dies on his tongue. “He’s really good,” he says, fairly pathetically. “So good.”

 

Rei’s eyebrows raise. “ _Now_ I will remind you of all the times you teased and taunted me about being delighted by the way Shu _breathes_ —“

 

“Yes, yes, I’m the worst,” Kaoru admits with a groan. “But…Rei, it’s _different_.”

 

“Than the way I felt? Still feel? Mm, I doubt it.” Rei gives his shoulder a nudge with his own, expression amused. “Being a bit obsessed is part of the bond. At least you liked him before that, so you know it’s not _just_ the bond. He’s awfully cute, I don’t know how you couldn’t like him.”

 

“It’s different,” Kaoru says, as patiently as he can, “because I’m telling someone else who thinks he’s incredible. You were telling me about a stranger.”

 

“It’s still not different. One of us is still having the other stolen away, even if it’s by someone I happen to love dearly.”

 

Kaoru suddenly feels his eyes sting, and he looks away, blinking rapidly. “I never thought it would be me being stolen from you, though. The other way around makes more sense.”

 

“Why? Because I’ll fuck anything that moves?” Rei says with a laugh, glancing the opposite direction. “Who you are makes your stealing sort of inevitable, I think.”

 

“Because I always feel like I’m waiting for you to come back to me.” The words are quiet, and a little embarrassed. “Because I’m always the same, and I always think…I always thought you’d find something else to keep your attention.”

 

“But I always do come back, don’t I?” Rei tilts his head back, exhaling a quiet sigh. “Kaoru…you being the ‘same’ is the best part. And being on the battlefield with you, even for a moment today, reminded me of that. Ah, this is moot, of course,” he mutters, annoyed with himself and staring pointedly out the window. “I’m not trying to make you feel guilty or bad about this situation.”

 

Kaoru breathes, stroking his finger through Natsume’s hair. Finally, he says slowly, “It would have been simpler, if you and I were bonded. Much, much simpler. Easier. But…I don’t know if that means better.”

 

He reaches out his hand, palm-up, and lays it next to Rei. “We had a really, really long run, didn’t we? Happier than any marriage I’ve ever seen. And we always came back to each other.”

 

“We certainly did.” Rei’s hand drops down, then inches to Kaoru’s before curling up around it. “This is going to be very difficult, because I’m never _not_ going to want you.” He smiles wryly. “And that’s on me, but that doesn’t change it. I’m sorry I’m being like this.”

 

“I still want you, Rei.” Kaoru’s voice is quiet, and he squeezes Rei’s hand. “I want you as a friend, I want you as a confidante, I want you as the one I start letters to with _My Dearest_. But…the oath I swore you, as your husband. Please let me free of it now. Because there’s someone who has to come first in my heart, the way someone else has to come first in yours now.”

 

“You’re asking a lot of me on a day like this, when that’s the one thing I still have to claim you as mine.”

 

“Say the words of the vows to yourself, Rei. If they still apply to you…I won’t ask it.”

 

“…Ask me later,” Rei says after a moment, glancing away again. “When Shu is here. Then I’ll give you the answer you want. Right now, it’s unfair, with what you have in your lap and me having nothing.”

 

Kaoru nods slowly. “That’s fair. I understand. I only brought it up because Natsume said you’d be headed for the Shadowlands permanently, soon.” Then he asks, very quietly, “What about our son?”

 

“‘Permanently’ is such a stressful word…I’ll certainly be drifting in and out, especially over the next few years. Relations with the human realm _have_ to improve, or we’ll find ourselves here again sooner, rather than later.” Rei’s fingers curl slowly. “What about our son?”

 

“We’re living apart.” Kaoru swallows, the words painful, even as he strokes his thumb over the back of Rei’s hand. “Who does he live with? For how long? What do we tell him? Who is he going to grow up to be?”

 

“That very much depends on what your paladins have to say about you having a part-demon son, doesn’t it?” Rei’s head tilts slowly. “Considering their treatment of Hokuto…”

 

“I’m remaking my clan at worst, the entire order a best.” Kaoru tastes the words, and likes them. “I have enough research on how to do it from the Svalde. I can do it, if I force it. Until then…until I make an order that keeps my son safe in the light…keep him safe.”

 

“You know I’ll keep him safe.” Rei hesitates, then actually turns his head back to face him. “You should probably give him a name,” he simply says. “Otherwise, I will, and I won’t want to give him back. You don’t need to answer now, but…soon-ish, perhaps.”

 

“You told Shu to name him,” Kaoru reminds Rei, a rueful smile on his face. “I trust he picked a good one. But I will create an order he’s proud to represent, Rei. And he will represent it, one day.”

 

“I told Shu to name him for _now_ ,” Rei wearily says, pulling his hand away to flutter it. “But whatever. Don’t be silly, he’s absolutely the next Demon King and possibly a wizard. You’ll see.”

 

“Just for you being absolutely certain, I hope he has zero powers. None at all. Give me your hand back, I’m not done holding it.”

 

Rei drops it back down into Kaoru’s grasp obediently. “You should make Natsume do a reading on him. That’s more accurate than us being petty, I think.”

 

“Mm. You’re right.” Kaoru strokes Natsume’s hair with the hand not holding Rei’s. “When he wakes. Heh, look at us and our lap redheads.”

 

“I know, we match and everything,” Rei lightly says, scooting a bit closer to lean his weight against Kaoru. “He actually gets a bit of sleep around you, it looks like. That’s more than usual.”

 

“It’s more when I’m touching him with my mind.” Kaoru rests his head against Rei’s, an old, familiar position of relaxation. “It’s still weird for me. But handy.”

 

“You’re going to be a talented magician yet, Sir I-Can’t-Learn-Telepathy.”

 

“ _Please_ don’t call me a magician, you know it makes my hands all sweaty!”

 

“What’s it going to do to your new paladin order, for you to be bonded to the Emperor?” Rei immediately teases further, nudging against Kaoru. “The Emperor who always dresses like a beautiful woman and has absolutely no pressure from the king because he’s from the Isles…”

 

“We’re a _secret_ order, so, probably not that much? Ah, give me some ideas, I don’t even know what I want to do with these stupid white holy knights,” Kaoru mutters, squeezing his eyes shut. “Remaking the whole thing…it feels like a lot, now that I know I have to _do_ it.”

 

“Hmm…well, paladins have always been sort of the standard for protecting the king, correct?” Rei idly says, adjusting his hold to free his hand, and wrap his arm about Kaoru’s shoulder instead, drawing him to rest more against him. Baby in one arm, Kaoru in the other—well, it should be _his_ child to make this perfect, but…

 

He shakes that off, continuing. “That might be the best place to start…especially in light of recent events.”

 

“That’s what the Kingsguard is for, though, right?” Kaoru smiles, his expression soft. “This feels right, doesn’t it? Shame it’s not our child.”

 

“The Kingsguard originally had paladin influence…and they’ve replaced that with a bunch of blockheads swinging swords, if I’m remembering correctly. Or is that the same as paladins? Hard to say…” Rei pauses, contemplative. “I can ask Shu to bring him back here. You know, once the rest of this is cleaned up.”

 

“Ah. You mean Eichi, and the archdemons.” Kaoru’s stomach twists at the thought. “I changed my mind, talking about rebuilding the paladins is much more fun than talking about that.”

 

“So what I’m thinking,” Rei idly suggests, stroking Kaoru’s hair to soothe him straight back to relaxation, “is finding the king, and letting him deal with Eichi’s fate entirely. If he wants him imprisoned? Fine. I’ll take care of that. Wants him on a leash? Fine. Let’s see if we can magic that into place. Wants him ‘dead’? More difficult, but needs must. Hiyori and Nagisa…I think they can be good citizens. They just need a little prodding in the right direction—and a few years spent in the frozen North, rebuilding what they fucked up.”

 

“And what if the bond cooks his brain again, and the king wants him free?” Kaoru turns his head, catching Rei’s eyes. “I like the king a lot, but he’s very…persuadable, when it comes to that bond.”

 

“Oh, he doesn’t get to be free-free, regardless. A king’s pardon can only go so far; he committed crimes against my wizards, and I still am going to see him held accountable for that before I hand over the Academy,” Rei sniffs. “But if he wants Eichi still, in some capacity…I think insisting on some kind of block on their bond is a good idea. It’s different than trying to shield off a broken one. Or even a bit of mental tampering might be advisable, on Leo’s end; just to block off some of those impulses.”

 

“Did you dispel the thrall on Mao, Rei?” Kaoru asks, unable to keep the question down. “I took the one off the archdemon’s wizard, but he didn’t seem to care much. I’m sure Mao will still like you, even if you take it off of him, just like Leo will still be a fool in love.”

 

Rei hesitates, and his voice drops when he replies, “I haven’t yet. I wanted to wait until after Ritsu was gone—just in case my influence really did effect Mao after all this time. Ah, and also…if something bad _were_ to happen when I released it, I wanted you to be here to pick up the pieces of my mess.”

 

“Are they bonded? Are you…does Mao have a bond, that he’s had since he was very young, and you’re trying to shield him from it?” Kaoru guesses. “I always thought there was a reason for you to do it that you weren’t telling.”

 

“Oh, do I wish it was that,” Rei mutters, heaving a tired sigh. “No, that would make it simple. My little brother, I love him, but he’s so completely in denial.”

 

“Then what is it? Rei, you’re a good person,” Kaoru says, sighing. “That’s why it doesn’t make any sense to me that you’d thrall someone unless it was at the last possible resort.”

 

“I’ve gone over a million times why I thralled him in the first place,” Rei irritably said. “Maybe you don’t believe that someone would want it—but Mao did. Now that it’s there, though—it certainly does help make his life easier when Ritsu is attempting to convince _himself_ that he’s bonded to Mao. He’s not. That’s the problem. Mao is playing along.”

 

Kaoru’s tone goes frosty. “Forgive me,” he says, his voice clipped. “Your reason didn’t sit right with me morally. My overactive imagination tried to give you a better one, but obviously, that was stupid.”

 

“I am _not_ following why you’re so angry with me,” Rei exasperatedly says, pushing Kaoru back to better look at him. “What part aren’t you understanding? Mao _asked me_ for that thrall so that he’d be able to be part of taking Eichi down. He’s kept it because of the power he gains from it, and now, if I take it off, it’s going to be more difficult for him to play along with Ritsu. He’s flat-out said that it helps. That’s why I’m waiting until Ritsu goes home.”

 

“What part?” Kaoru demands, shifting as much as he can without waking Natsume, deliberately keeping his voice to a hushed hiss. “The part where he was a _child_ , Rei, who could no more consent to a thrall than to sex! The part where if you really agreed with me all those years of our marriage about right and wrong, you’d _never_ have thralled a child! It’s so—it’s _so_ out of character for you, that’s why I can’t understand it!”

 

“Maybe my options were _limited_ at the time, Kaoru—or to hell with it, please, continue to sound like your shitty father and judge me with the most disappointed tone you’ve got stored up,” Rei snaps, hauling himself abruptly to his feet. “I told you I’d take it off. Now leave it be.”

 

Kaoru almost makes a biting retort, then bites it back, forcing himself to calm down. _Why am I so angry?_ he asks himself, trying to poke and prod at the feeling until it starts to make sense. Finally, he says quietly, “I don’t want you to thrall our son. And…and until I found out about Mao, I would never, ever have questioned whether you would have. Now…I don’t know your morality as well as I thought I did, and I’m struggling.”

 

“Mao isn’t my son.” The words are short and clipped. “If you don’t trust me enough for that much, then _you_ can deal with protecting him for the next twenty years from every godawful creature that will try to eat the spawn of the Demon King.”

 

“But you told me you didn’t see anything wrong with it,” Kaoru says, trying his best to stay levelheaded, to not let the dismissive tone hurt. “Don’t use him as a way to hurt me, Rei, that’s beneath you, don’t threaten me with his welfare.”

 

“You’re refusing to see the larger issues at play in individual cases.”

 

Rei’s irritation rouses the child in his arms, making him squirm and whine, and Rei huffs, turning away to stalk back into the bedroom without another word. When he returns, he’s minus a prince, and looking no happier for it.

 

When he returns, Kaoru’s hand is up, a gesture of surrender. “Don’t yell. You’re right, I could have said all of that better, I’m…I’m not thinking straight, about that baby. What I said wasn’t kind or fair.”

 

“Do you think I _like_ thralling people, Kaoru?” Rei’s voice is tired, the defensiveness gone from it. “Do you think I want an army of mindless humans to do my bidding?”

 

“Rei…that’s not the point. No, I don’t think you like it.” Kaoru looks up, his eyes just as weary. “And I think a lot of demons in the Svalde library thought they were doing what was right, because they had no other choice. There _has_ to be a line you won’t cross.”

 

“And there _is_ , but you aren’t hearing it, and that’s fine. You can have your oath back—go swear it to someone you don’t have to question the morality of every five minutes, hmm?”

 

Rei strides to the front door, pauses, and then shakes his head to himself, stepping out into the cold.

 

Natsume’s brow furrows as he shifts in Kaoru’s lap, and he rolls onto his back, grimacing as he wakes. “Energy changed, very not good,” he murmurs, eyes lidded. “But before that, a decent sleep.”

 

“I’m glad you slept,” Kaoru says, feeling like his heart itself has been beaten bloody. “Rei hates me.”

 

“…Eh?” Natsume blinks a few more times, trying to figure out if he’s dreaming, or actually awake, before slowly sitting up. “He definitely doesn’t, though.”

 

Kaoru flaps a weary hand. “We had a fight. And…” He grimaces. “I can’t apologize for anything I said. I wasn’t wrong. I even thought about it and made _sure_ I was only saying what I meant. And he won’t.”

 

“‘Hate’ is a pretty strong word for that,” Natsume murmurs, staring around groggily. “I _think_ I had a dream. Babies? Babies. It’s all the kids around here.”

 

“Tell me about the babies. I like good news.”

 

“Nnn…I don’t remember,” Natsume complains, rubbing a hand back through his hair. “But I think it was yours. Were you two talking about it? That’s probably why.”

 

“Fighting.” Kaoru rubs his face. “I don’t think we’re going to be married for much longer.”

 

“Oh.” Natsume shifts awkwardly at that. “Is that my fault, or—“

 

“…it’s definitely because of the bond,” Kaoru says quietly, stroking Natsume’s hair. “But that doesn’t mean it’s your fault. It’s just…now that I have one…I understand, a lot more, how he must feel about Shu. And it’s not right to put a mortal law in place over that.”

 

“…I see. I really don’t want to be the reason for you two…fighting or whatever, so I’m happy to step back, if you need me to,” Natsume mutters, glancing aside. “It’s not like I planned this. Ah, bonds really are a mess, aren’t they…oh! I remembered!” Natsume snaps his fingers, sitting up a bit straighter. “I did this reading before, back in the West, when you were trying to get information out of me like a shitty spy.”

 

Kaoru’s head cocks. “I don’t remember at all,” he admits. “A lot…has happened. And don’t you even _think_ about stepping back, I feel how I feel, and that wasn’t what we were fighting about, anyway.”

 

“Your memory is shit and this is why you have me,” Natsume logically says, smoothing his skirts. “Well, I’m staying out of whatever you and Lord Rei are doing, because it’s still not my place. But I _do_ remember doing a reading on you, and your son came up. Golden-haired, will bloom like a Greenbred, you have to decide if you want to live to see it, not a Cambion. That’s what I remember.”

 

“What was he wearing?” Kaoru asks quietly. “And how old was he?”

 

“I can’t see what he was wearing,” Natsume admits, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “But as for how old…maybe…ten? Around there. I’m bad at ages, so take that with a grain of salt…maybe I can get a more solid reading later, when he’s around.”

 

Kaoru nods slowly. “I just…after the conversation we just had, I wanted to know who he was living with. If he’s happy there.”

 

“If he ends up blooming, then he’ll be back at the Academy. So that’s good, right?”

 

“I think that depends who he’s writing home, with letters addressed, ‘Dear Father.’”

 

Natsume reaches up and gives the side of Kaoru’s head a swat. “You’re being dumb,” he bluntly says. “I’m staying out of it, so this is the last thing I’m going to say—figure it out before Lord Rei does, because once he sets his mind to something, he doesn’t like to change it.”

 

Kaoru catches Natsume’s wrist. “Tell me what I’m wrong about. Please. Because I never expected to have the choice of either raising Rei’s child by myself, or letting _my_ child grow up in the Shadowlands calling someone else Father. This wasn’t my choice, and it happened _really_ fast, and I’m honestly still coming to terms with the fact that I thought Rei had the same morality as me, and it turns out he’s thralled a child and sees nothing wrong with it.”

 

Natsume opens his mouth, then shuts it again, his brow furrowing. “I…didn’t mean to imply you were wrong about anything,” he quietly says. “So…sorry if it came off that away? Ah, it’s more like…” He hesitates again, glancing away. “It’s easy for me, not being involved directly, to see both sides of it. Um, with the Mao thing…Lord Rei’s always been pretty vague about it, but I can tell there’s a lot going on there. Sometimes, I wish I could see into the past, to figure things out more.”

 

“The problem with the Mao thing…” Kaoru rakes a hand back through his hair. “I explained this to him before, but…the problem is. I can’t ever, ever see thralling someone as acceptable. No matter the reason. Not that I just can’t personally, but if I do, I won’t believe in paladin ideals anymore. It’s a core, fundamental belief. And Rei…I know it’s because he loves me, but he _really_ wants me to see his side of it, see his reasons, and not condemn him for it. Even though he knows I _can’t_ , because to a paladin, even a shitty one, there’s no such thing as a good reason to thrall someone.”

 

“I know. And I’m not trying to imply you should get over it, and let it slide,” Natsume quickly says. “I guess…uhh…it’s more like separate the situation from the actual act of thralling, maybe? The thrall is the end result of it, not the situation as a whole. Does that make sense? Obviously Lord Rei thinks thralling is a bad idea, too; that’s why he’s only ever done it twice. Ever. He’s not lying about that, I can tell.”

 

“How do I separate the situation, where he thralled someone, from the act of thralling someone?” Kaoru asks, baffled. “I’m not trying to be difficult. That just…doesn’t make any sense to me.”

 

“I’m talking about what _led_ to it. The king is a much more clear-cut example, I think, so let’s start there,” Natsume patiently says, leaning back onto his hands. “There was absolutely _nothing_ else that could be done. Every single magical construct that could have possibly blocked the ends of his broken bond had already been tried, and failed. The king was going insane— _was_ insane—from all the grief and pain. Right?”

 

“…You’re still seeing it like a wizard, though,” Kaoru says quietly. “About problems and fixes, not about right and wrong.”

 

“Right, I understand that, but,” Natsume insists, “is it any more right to let him suffer? Or to kill him, to put him out of his misery, when he wants to live?”

 

“I see what you mean,” Kaoru says, putting a hand on Natsume’s. “And like I told Rei…it was easier to understand about the king, when I didn’t know about his _other_ thrall. I bent, on that. Which is probably why Eichi was able to hurt me like he did, my beliefs were compromised. That’s _why_ we don’t bend, even when it seems like it’s for a good reason. Because even when you think it’s justified, if you allow it _once_ , it leads to others. And others. And more, and more. And each time, the reason you think it merits it…has to be less and less severe. Because you’re right, the king was a _totally_ clear cut example.”

 

“But you keep flogging him about the king’s thrall, too,” Natsume quietly points out. “There’s probably more to the Mao thing, but you probably won’t ever hear it, because now he’s convinced nothing he says will make it clear cut, like the king. I’m not saying that is the case, but…it’s just a feeling. You’re both being unreasonable and just getting your feelings hurt.”

 

“Mao was five years old,” Kaoru snarls, standing and pacing the room, shoving his hair back. “But Rei _never_ wants to talk about stealing that kid’s childhood, he just leaves the room so I either have to chase him and beg him to come back, or wait on my skirts like a patient little wife! He’s got his reasons—that five-year-old wanted revenge, you know, and we should always let toddlers sign away their souls to Demon Kings if they’re really _sure_.”

 

Natsume watches him, folding his hands into his lap. “It sounds like there’s a lot he doesn’t want to talk about in general,” he says, shrugging a shoulder. “I’m sorry. I wish I had more advice to give you. I don’t think you’re in the wrong, but it’s…complicated. Obviously, I don’t agree with thralling a child either, but there has to be more to it than just ‘the kid said yes, so let’s do it.’ Lord Rei _is_ a better person than that, even if some of the things he does are a bit…dubious.”

 

Kaoru sighs. “This is why I can’t talk to a wizard about paladin mentality. I’m not saying paladin mentality is always right, either—just that if Rei wants to have a pet paladin with any effectiveness, he _has_ to understand that the way I feel about these things isn’t going to change. What I can’t _stand_ is the fact that he knows about how I feel, how I have to feel, and it still makes him angry. And what I’m _really_ pissed off about now,” he says, anger and hurt rising in his voice, “is that he used our marriage against me on that.”

 

“Ah…” Natsume’s head tilts, but he otherwise doesn’t move. “Admittedly…it doesn’t sound to me as though Lord Rei is asking you to change your view…but I do think you’re missing _my_ point, which is maybe…it was a case of ‘no good options’ with Mao, too? But yes, bringing the marriage into it is questionable.”

 

“A case of no good options,” Kaoru repeats softly. “What if he was your son? Seriously, imagine this with me. What if you were murdered, and your son was five years old. Would you think he was old enough, mature enough, to decide to sell his soul in service to a demon, pursuing bloodshed and treachery, never sure if his mind is truly his own, never knowing what he could be forced to do? Would that sound like an option no worse than any others to you?”

 

“I don’t know what the other options are,” Natsume quietly says. “So, it could be, especially if I really… _really_ wanted to get back at the person murdering my family. I’m not trying to argue with you, Kaoru. Again, I don’t think thralls are good. I just…do wonder if there’s more behind it than ‘a five year old made this ‘choice’ and now has to live with it.’ You know?”

 

“Oh, I’m sure there are a lot of reasonable reasons. Mao needed to be thralled to move safely through the Shadowlands, for example. Or he needed to have his mind shielded from Eichi to keep him safe. See? Reasonable. But _not_ as pressing as what happened to the king.”

 

“…Yes, all of those things. Or it could, potentially,” Natsume carefully says, “have something to do with Lord Rei. Or the soybean-hater. Or…Ritsu. I’m not saying that’s any better, but I am saying it’s extra, compounding reasons.”

 

“But even if there are a hundred of them,” Kaoru presses, “would you ever think to solve a problem like that by enslaving a child’s soul?”

 

“I can’t thrall anyone,” Natsume logically replies. “So no, I can’t say I would solve a problem like that.”

 

“…Never mind,” Kaoru mutters, flopping down on the couch. “We’re never going to see eye to eye on this, me and him. And his solution to that for decades was to just not tell me. And he’ll never apologize, you know. That’s not how he ends fights. He waits until the other person misses him too much, and then says, ‘Oh, you apologized right before I could, I’m really no good!’ which sounds great, but how come he’s never done it first, then?”

 

Natsume scoots over, calmly pulling Kaoru’s head into his lap. “Most men are like that,” he lightly says. “That’s why they’re all terrible.”

 

“You and I are both men, you know.”

 

“Mmmm. I said most.”

 

“Yeah.” Kaoru falls silent, squeezing Natsume’s hand. “I think…this is a pretty bad impasse,” he admits. “Because my version of Rei, the one I think he is…he would never thrall that kid. And his version of Kaoru, the one he thinks I am, that guy would never question Rei, because he knows that Rei’s heart is good. Isn’t that just shit?”

 

“Yes. It is.” Natsume tugs his hand away to begin absently petting Kaoru’s hair. “You’re both being kind of childish,” he mildly says. “If you really want my opinion. Not about the thrall; that’s obviously not what I mean. Just…about how this is being handled. But I really would rather not get between the two of you, so that’s all I’m gong to say.”

 

“So what do you think I should do?” Kaoru asks, looking up at him. “I know. It’s weird to ask you when I’ve been with him for…gods, for ten times longer than you’ve been alive, almost. But things are weird. And you know my heart.”

 

“Ehh…do I? I just know your head, I think,” Natsume wryly says, giving a strand of Kaoru’s hair a tug. “But honestly…if you want it gone, just let him take the thrall off like he already said he would, and don’t bring it up again. Sometimes, people have to not talk about certain things and that’s fine, I think.”

 

Kaoru huffs out a breath. “I get like a dog with a bone,” he admits, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Natsume’s. “That’s not a paladin thing, it’s just me. We’re both so damned stubborn.”

 

“Mmhm. You’re kinda dumb,” Natsume bluntly says. “So drop it, because you know Lord Rei is just going to get more upset about it. I’m not saying it’s right, I’m saying that’s what he’s going to do.”

 

“And what about my son?” Kaoru asks quietly. “Rei never asked me if this was a good time, he just used my semen in a vial and _made_ one. Now he’s letting Shu raise it in the Shadowlands, or I have to take it with me right this second. Neither of those are very good options.”

 

“Did he say, in those exact words, that’s what’s happening or that’s what you have to do?”

 

“I…I thought so.” Kaoru frowns. “I’m old, my memory isn’t what it used to be.”

 

“Maybe you should confirm, again, what exactly the two of you want to do about the child, when you aren’t so upset with one another.”

 

“You mean, once I apologize.”

 

“I mean, once you want to talk to him again.”

 

Kaoru scowls. “It’s gross. He has all the power in this. He’s got my son, he’s got the thrall. If I want anything, I have to beg for it.”

 

“…Or you could go into it assuming it’s Lord Rei, the person you actually like, and that he’s not trying to manipulate you from the start?”

 

“…Yeah. Fair enough,” Kaoru says, and flattens his face against Natsume’s chest. “Love is complicated. I _am_ the one who asked for a divorce.”

 

“Mm. Is that so.” Natsume goes back to petting Kaoru’s hair, entirely unfazed. “Then perhaps getting angry when he throws that back in your face is a little…”

 

“No, I said it really nicely! I just told him that I understood how the bond holds _him_ , and to really think about whether he still means his oath! I swear it was nice, we were holding hands and everything. He said he wanted to wait until Shu was here, that’s all, it wasn’t…mean. He made it mean.”

 

“I believe you. Again, I think both of you are being childish about one thing or another,” Natsume mildly says, stroking Kaoru’s hair still. “It’ll pass. Want me to do a reading on you or something?”

 

“Please. Make me feel better, tell me about something good that’s going to happen. Or something bad, give me something to fight at least. Want my palm?”

 

“I can do a palm reading, or a tarot reading…whatever you want. Ooh, or a crystal reading. I haven’t done one of those in awhile. We can make this fancy, Sir Paladin. Lord Paladin? What is it, actually?”

 

“Ooh, crystal?” Kaoru asks, intrigued. “I want a crystal reading, that sounds fancy. And personally, it’s Milord, I was knighted by Leo’s great-grandfather, not that he knows it.”

 

“Ahh. Another royal that Eichi slept with,” Natsume dismissively says, leaning back. “A crystal reading, then. It’s a lot more boring than you think it is, but Islanders know how to make it pretty,” he reassures him, climbing to his feet and walking to the door before he stretches up on tiptoe, feeling around at the top of the doorframe before flopping back down with a handful of stones. “Good, I thought I left these here. The technical term is lithomancy—though if I had a crystal ball, then we’d _really_ be in for a good time…”

 

“How big are these balls?” Kaoru asks, eyes latching onto the small crystals. “How do they talk to you? Ah. This is kind of exciting.”

 

“Umm…I dunno, big enough to wrap your hands around?” Natsume says with a shrug, glancing around to find the window bringing in the most light. “And…that’s kind of a hard question to ask? It’s like asking how your sword talks to you…”

 

“Fair enough.” Kaoru pats his sheathed sword, and grins. “Like a lover, is the answer.”

 

“Sounds nice. If a lover ever talked to me the way various kinds of Tellings do to me, I’d slap them,” Natsume bluntly says, before throwing the stones over the wooden floor.

 

The light from the window catches them, reflecting up onto the ceiling. “I’m doing this for real, not with gimmicks, so forgive the lack of fanfare,” he idly says, gazing upward. “It’s still pretty, though.”

 

_You’re what’s pretty to watch._

 

Kaoru blushes slightly, and tucks one knee up to his chest. Well, hopefully _some_ of his thoughts are still silent. “Fanfare’s not important, your talent is.”

 

“You’re loud,” Natsume tells him, his own cheeks pink all the same. “But yes, thank you for realizing that talent _is_ the important part. Tourists don’t particularly care so long as it _looks_ like their fortunes are being read. Ah, so, to explain—there’s two different ways to do this…one, seeing the light reflected through it, or two, a board that you toss them all on. The latter I think is cheating, especially if you have any talent at all…it does all the work for you. This way, it’s more up to interpretation, but…” Natsume’s head tilts, watching the flutter of different colored lights across the ceiling. “Looking especially for things about children—there’s nothing negative.”

 

“Can you see anything good?” Kaoru asks hopefully. “Me, striding through a field of daisies with them, lifting kids onto my shoulder and laughing, holding hands with you, maybe? Is Rei there?”

 

“It’s not going to be so specific, Kaoru. You’re looking for prophecy, this isn’t it,” Natsume idly says, cocking his head a bit more. “Lord Rei is always in your readings. Again, nothing negative. You two must remain in contact, then, and presumably amicably. You’re probably worried for nothing.”

 

Kaoru huffs out a breath, flopping sideways on the sofa. “Sorry. You’re bonded to an absolute damn fool who thinks every problem is the end of the world. If it helps, I’ve always been like this.”

 

“Fortunately, you’re bonded to someone who has made a tidy living off of listening to other people’s problems and dispelling them since the day he was born,” Natsume says with a shrug, tilting his head the other way as he folds his arms, watching the ceiling. “Both your Sun and Moon stones are very bright. That’s good, for what you’ve been planning—the sun gives you confidence, and the moon is about change and spirituality, which, obviously, with your new approach to the paladins…

 

“Does it say if people will be receptive? Or am I going to have to fight them all? Ah, can you do a reading just on that?” Kaoru asks, a little pathetically. “Am I going to be able to unite and re-form the paladin order? And call me Milord Paladin, I did like that.”

 

“If you want those kind of answers, Milord Paladin, you can pay for a further reading,” Natsume deadpans. “There is a great deal of luck in your future. Perhaps that means you pulled it off through a great explosion of inspiration that convinced them all to follow you.”

 

Kaoru looks skeptically at him. “Is that explosion of inspiration, great deal of luck thing something you tell all of your customers?”

 

“No. I tell them something a lot fancier and namedrop a few people.”

 

“Namedrop? Like famous people? Kings, and stuff?”

 

“Nah, I just do a contact reading on them when I greet them and I can usually pick up the names of important people on their mind. _Then_ I’m super authentic, because I can usually common-sense place which people each stone relates to. Like for you, Lord Rei,” Natsume says, glancing back up. “He’s always rhodonite, the Death stone I use.”

 

“And what are you?”

 

“Ehh…I’m always the Future. Any prophet has to be. That’s serpentine, the little green one there.”

 

“Like your eyes. Or a dragon’s scale.”

 

“Well—sure, it’s helpful if there’s a correlation like that. There are just certain stones you’re supposed to use, in lithomancy…”

 

“Oh, so it doesn’t have to do with how I see you?” Kaoru frowns, a little disappointed. “All right.”

 

“I mean,” Natsume hedges, “it _can._ Especially in this case, it absolutely does. Ah, trying to explain the ins and outs of this is a lot. If you _want_ to know the ‘rules’ of it, I’ll teach you, but you might just find it annoying. At least you know it’s real, if I’m doing it.”

 

“I wouldn’t mind learning. If we’re going to be together for another couple hundred years…” Kaoru shrugs, the thought making him smile. “I’ll probably get to be a great fortune teller myself, just from watching.”

 

“You could be a great reader. Of people.”

 

“Exactly. I’ve seen plenty of fortunetellers make a, well, fortune, that way.”

 

“And we don’t like that, on the Isles. At least the readers there all have a _bit_ of talent for the craft, so theres always going to be some truth involved.”

 

“Eh…and I don’t have any talent for it?” Kaoru doesn’t sound sad, merely curious.

 

“No, Kaoru. Not even the slightest bit. But it’s cute that you want to learn.”

 

“Well, what if someone comes to you for a reading and you’re feeling sick sometime? Someone’s got to be able to take over.”

 

Natsume blinks a few times. “No,” he says. “I’d still do the reading.”

 

“Well, what if you’re out?” Kaoru grins, enjoying the hypothetical. “Picture it, sweetheart. You and me in our…mm, cottage? Gorgeous mansion? Well-decorated cave? Where would you like to live, when we’re free to be ourselves?”

 

“…A well-decorated cave has me interested, I can’t deny.”

 

“Right. We’re in our well-decorated cave, and you’ve just gone to market to get us a fat, juicy hen to eat. I’m waiting for you in the cave, maybe doing some woodworking, fixing us up our new windchimes. Suddenly, an old crone appears.”

 

“Old crones never want readings. It’s always young, stupid people. Usually men, wanting romantic advice of some sort. Like ‘am I the father?’ or ‘will we have five children, all of which are sons?’”

 

“…All right, it’s a young, very cute woman, who wants to know if her soldier lover is bedding other girls while he’s at war. Better?”

 

“Fine, sure. That sounds far more realistic, even if it’s still almost always men.”

 

“Right, so I’m all alone with this absolutely adorable young lady. And obviously she’s flirting with me.” Kaoru takes a minute to imagine that, then shakes his head, banishing the distraction. “And she’s looking for you, to do a reading on her. But you’re at market!”

 

“I have absolutely no idea where you’re going with this,” Natsume dryly replies, moving to start picking up his stones. “Oh, the blue quartz is all excitable as well, that’s good. There’s lots of positive energy in this reading, you should feel more at ease.”

 

“Oh? What’s the blue quartz friend about, then?” Kaoru asks, momentarily derailed from his cave fantasy.

 

“You know everything about readings now, you were about to give that young, very cute woman a reading. Why should I tell you?”

 

“Hey, that’s in my future! I haven’t learned stuff yet! I was _going_ to talk about how I’m preserving your impeccable reputation while you’re out buying hens!”

 

“If you did readings in my name, I’d slaughter you,” Natsume bluntly says, brandishing a particularly long, pointed crystal like a knife for a moment. “Keep that in mind. Anyway, it’s about hope and optimism.”

 

“Oh.” Kaoru’s head cocks to the side. “Does that mean that I’m hopeful and optimistic about the future now? Or that I should be? Or that in the future, I will be?”

 

“Could be all of the above. Now is when I upsell a proper palm reading to clarify such things, Milord Paladin.”

 

“Ah. And what does that cost the honored gentleman?” Kaoru asks, providing his palm.

 

“If you came to me in the Isles, five thousand gold and probably your boat. But you’re not in the Isles and I’m your bonded or something,” Natsume sighs, taking Kaoru’s palm. “So I suppose I can do it for a compliment.”

 

“Oh, good. I don’t have a boat.”

 

Kaoru cups Natsume’s face with his other hand, and says, his voice as low as he can make it without sounding silly, “You have the most intelligent, shimmering eyes I’ve ever seen.”

 

The sound Natsume makes is a flustered squawk more than anything else, and he bats Kaoru’s hand away. “Okay, fine, I’ll read your palm,” he huffs, his face bright pink. “Do you still want me to specifically look for things about your son? Or Lord Rei? Or both?”

 

“I mean…yeah. If you don’t mind. That’s…my emotions about that are pretty high right now, still.”

 

“That’s what the reading will pick up on, then,” Natsume reassuringly says, running his thumb down Kaoru’s palm carefully. “For example, how much your heart line curves downwards. This is why you’re failing to communicate with Lord Rei properly.”

 

“Eh? Does it change over time? The way my lines slope?”

 

“Wear and tear on your hands absolutely changes that…maybe you’ve held a sword a bit too much, hmm? It’s also wavy, but it’s probably always been like that. That means you’re a slut.”

 

“…I feel like this is people-reading at this point.”

 

“Ah…isn’t that what a good palm-reading is…?”

 

“Well, yeah, a normal one. But you’re a special fancy dragon prophet, right? So I assume yours is better.”

 

“A palm-reading is still a palm-reading. Kaoru,” Natsume finally, exasperatedly sighs, “if you want me to sit down, meditate, and literally poke into your head, I will. I can tell you quite a bit about your future like that. You might not like it, though—and no, you can’t change it.”

 

“Ah, well. It was a nice idea.” Kaoru turns his hand, seizing Natsume’s and bringing it to his lips, brushing a kiss over his knuckles. “I got along just fine before I knew whether things would be just fine or not. But thank you for trying.”

 

“If you change your mind, I _will_ do it,” Natsume says, his fingers curling. “But…I’m glad you don’t really want me to. It’s kind of…not my favorite.”

 

Kaoru shakes his head. “It’s one thing if there are reassuring answers just floating in the air to be plucked out. Kind of another to force you to dig in the cosmos for them. If they don’t want to be found, let them keep their secrets. I’ll get to the future soon enough, with you by my side.”

 

“Sometimes, you’re _almost_ dashing enough that I can look past all of your dumb parts.”

 

“Thank you, I’ve been working on achieving that for several decades.”

 

“And has it accomplished anything for you?” Natsume archly asks. “You know, what a lot of people don’t realize is that they can determine their own futures by asking basic questions. Like, in this case—‘Rei, can we talk more about what’s going to happen with our son?’ or ‘Can you just go ahead and remove that thrall so we don’t have to talk about it anymore?’”

 

“…You make that sound really easy,” Kaoru says wryly. “I hate that you’re probably right. Just to make me feel better, tell me what Rei should say like that.”

 

“Mmm…well, he’ll probably be defensive at first, about both things. Like ‘I told you I’d take the thrall off, do you really trust me that little?’, that kinda thing. And ‘I told you we can raise him together, you’re the one making a big deal out of this.’ But if you keep a level head, he’ll come around.”

 

“Even hearing you say it for him puts me in a bad mood,” Kaoru grumbles. “I meant, tell me what he should have said, the way you’re telling me what I should have said.”

 

“What he _should_ have said…umm…well…’yes, let’s work out a plan about our son together, what would be your preferred arrangement?’ is a start, and about the thrall…I mean, ‘yes, I’m going to do it right now’ would be nice, but I’m not too sure about that…”

 

“Yeah, that would have made me happy all right. Why couldn’t he say that?”

 

“Because…people get upset and say things that aren’t ideal?”

 

“Well, _yeah_ …” Kaoru sighs. “How long should I wait until I go after him, you think?”

 

“I personally don’t understand stewing on this kind of thing in the first place, so…sooner rather than later, probably…” Natsume muses, glancing out through the window. “I can’t wait to be somewhere warmer.”

 

“Me neither, I miss the sea.” Kaoru stands, stretching out his back, and sighs. “Wait here, will you? Let me just…let your bonded straighten out his messy life for a minute.”

 

“And here I thought I was the troublesome one,” Natsume mildly says, entirely unconcerned as he materializes a deck of cards out of thin air and begins laying them out on the floor in front of the fire. “Go on, then.”

 

“Eh…wait, now I want a tarot reading.”

 

“No, you don’t. You only get one if you talk to Lord Rei. Shoo, shoo.”

 

“ _So_ mean,” Kaoru informs him, then grabs his cloak, tosses it around his shoulders, and heads out in the snow to look for the man he’d married.

 

He doesn’t have to look far, at least.

 

Lingering by the stables and currently having his hair chewed on by a startlingly content looking demon mare. Rei leans against her stall door, staring out into the falling snow before he sets eyes on Kaoru, then he sighs, looking away. “Please don’t be here to chide me further, I’m currently unable to stomach that,” he says. Ritsu—the horse—pins her ears.

 

“The white cloak is a symbol,” Kaoru says, as joking as he can be when even looking at Rei makes him feel bruised. “It’s a flag of surrender. I’m here to talk, not fight.”

 

“Mm.” Rei leans back further, putting himself in direct harm’s way of his demon horse, who seems content to slobber on the curls of his hair instead. “You clearly have an idea of how you’d want things, in your ideal world,” he says finally. “So perhaps you should just tell me that.”

 

“In my ideal world?” Kaoru asks, turning to lean back against the stall door. “Sure. You and me and Shu and Natsume and seven or eight of our kids all live together in a big mansion with a well-decorated cave attached, probably in High Harbor so we can go to the sea whenever we want, and we tie big hats onto our children so they don’t get sunburned. We live in peace. Maybe you go back to the Shadowlands for half of every year, and I go up to the Hinterlands to run the paladins while you’re gone, but we always come home to each other. Our son knows both of us. If he blooms, he’s in Natsume’s care, if not, he chooses his own path, whether that be heir to what I build, what you build, or something completely different because it’s where his heart takes him. We make mistakes together. We eat and drink and laugh together, all of us. We make the human realm and the demon realm friends, or at least firm allies. We love each other, and forgive stupid infractions. We have dogs. We don’t say goodbye, ever. That’s…about as far as I’ve gotten.”

 

“…I don’t even hate that idea as an eventuality,” Rei quietly says. “But it can’t happen _right now_. I have to at least be in the Shadowlands full time for a few years…otherwise, things like this—“ He gestures broadly. “Will continue to happen. Ritsu is a good temporary leader, but he isn’t their king.” He pauses, then questions, eyebrows raised, “A well-decorated cave?”

 

“Natsume has a preference,” Kaoru says mildly. “Or rather, he expressed some interest. What does your ideal setup look like, then? I’m sure we can find a common ground. It’s us. When we’re not being horrible to each other, we get along pretty well, don’t we?”

 

“More or less,” Rei softly says, his shoulders heaving with a sigh. “My ideal setup…a pipe dream, perhaps. But it’s no different than what you want, honestly. Just…it has to wait. There’s no way we can do any of that right now. I _have_ to be in the Shadowlands.” His face twists for a moment before he looks away. “And logically, I know you need to keep our son.”

 

Kaoru reaches out, and gently lays a hand on Rei’s shoulder. “That doesn’t make him any less your son,” he says, just as quietly. “I should have said that earlier. It’s only for now. He’ll always be _ours_.”

 

“…You probably can’t understand this, because you’ve _had_ other children,” Rei says after a pause, still not looking back at Kaoru. “But I haven’t. And I can’t, unless a magical Airbred appears in my life again, ready to work some insane spell.”

 

“We’ll work something out,” Kaoru says. “We will. I’ll bring him to visit you, and you can visit us. Like you said, it’s only for a few years.”

 

Rei’s mouth tightens. “Except you know how dangerous that would be, bringing a mostly human child into the Shadowlands with a paladin escort.”

 

“Rei. I’m not afraid. I can bring him to the border, and you can send an escort from there.”

 

“I hate every part of this. It’s not fair.”

 

“No. It’s not.” Kaoru sighs, and retracts his hand. “It was pushed on us. Is there anything worse than getting the thing you want so badly, but at the worst possible time?”

 

“That’s the only way Eichi operates,” Rei mutters. “He knew I’d jump at the chance, and give him all the room in the world to do as he pleased. Because I’m an idiot, you see.”

 

“Because you wanted to make something beautiful with me,” Kaoru says, looking down at the stable floor, “more than you wanted anything else. I’d have done the same thing. And I love you for it.”

 

“I need to be done talking about this,” Rei abruptly says. “Or I’m going to get more upset. Even knowing you’ll take care of him—that doesn’t change that he’s _mine_ , the only child I have, the only child I’ll probably _ever_ have, and having to hand him to someone else, even you, makes me want to die. So just…I’ll call Shu here, or something. And you can take him, when you leave.”

 

 _I tried, Natsume,_ Kaoru thinks wearily. ‘Just talk to him’ seemed like such good advice, and it’s certainly nowhere near as bad as it had been before, but the wound is still raw, and Rei still isn’t looking at him. “I’ll go back in, then. If you want to be alone.”

 

“No, it’s…it’s fine. I just need to not talk about this anymore. It’s settled, anyway, and repeating the same plan makes me unhappy.” Rei shivers, slumping back into the stall door. “Ah, I’m tired.”

 

“I don’t remember the last time I wasn’t tired,” Kaoru admits. “But Natsume did a reading for me. Apparently I’m right to be optimistic about remaking the paladins.”

 

“Oh, that’s good. Let him do a full, proper workup on you sometime. Not the telepathic kind, but the…full crystal ball and all the tarot, the fun stuff. It’s still vague enough that you don’t hate what you’re hearing, but it gives a good direction, I’ve found.”

 

“You had him read you?” Kaoru asks, amused. “There’s something sort of cute about that.”

 

“He insisted! Multiple times. This was when he was, oh, sixteen or so? He really was the cutest. Not that he’s changed a bit, admittedly…”

 

“Not in the cuteness way. That’s still very much…yeah, he’s the cutest.” Kaoru rubs a hand over his face. “If I wasn’t me, I’d slap me for being so sappy.”

 

“Yes,” Rei patiently says. “You’re absolutely disgusting.”

 

“I will take that from literally anyone but you. You wrote an ode to a sewing stitch Shu made once. It wasn’t even on _your_ clothes.”

 

“Rude. It was on Natsume’s clothes, and those are definitely even finer than mine, considering Shu’s true talents are in designing for women!”

 

“An _ode_ , Rei.”

 

“He deserves praise for his beautiful work! You just haven’t had _time_ to write songs about the way Natsume does his hair.”

 

“Mm, no, I prefer to be pathetic in person. I’ll just sit here and sigh like a lovesick maiden, you’re the one making songs that will outlive us both.”

 

“And you tease me for this? At least I’m leaving a lasting impression!”

 

“I’m being less embarrassing—or at least, not as embarrassing for as long! Rei, if it was a _good_ ode, that would be something…”

 

“Shu thought it was good.”

 

“See, that’s what’s not fair. He’s just as sappy as you are. Natsume blushes, but he kicks me.”

 

“Ehh…Shu beats me up all the time, I wish he’d do it more, and less gently.”

 

“I’ve seen the way he _beats_ you, you delicate flower,” Kaoru teases. “You just like it when he’s spicy.”

 

“Yes! I do! I’d like for him to throw me bodily across the room into a bed, I think it would be fun. Also, I hope he grows fangs sometime soon and bites the ever living shit out of me.”

 

“Ah, the _real_ reason you want to take him to the Shadowlands. Now I understand.”

 

“I have needs. I think I’m being reasonable.”

 

“Yes, well, if it’s reasonable, I’m sure he’ll give you what you want eventually,” Kaoru assures him. “You’re too cute to refuse forever.”

 

“And here I thought you didn’t think I was cute anymore,” Rei sighs, leaning his head back. “Natsume’s tough to go up against.”

 

“It’s not a contest. You know that, better than me.” Kaoru reaches out, tugging a long strand of black hair. “Is Shu more dashing than me?”

 

“No…no, he is not.”

 

Kaoru stops short, and turns away to hide his blush. “You’re not going to say something about how you can’t possibly choose?”

 

Rei blinks a few times, tilting his head. “The bond is making you weird,” he complains. “Is this how I was?”

 

“It’s making me weird? You were _so_ much weirder!”

 

“I was _dying!_ That’s a little bit different!”

 

“You were acting like you were dying from the very first day,” Kaoru scoffs, grinning. “You were crying so hard you were slobbering.”

 

Rei shoots him a grumpy look. “You know, you can joke about it all you want, but I _really_ was dying. I showed up at the Academy on a low, found out I had a bond, and then couldn’t feed. I really was going to die for awhile.”

 

“But you started crying the first _day_ ,” Kaoru says, still amused. “You reminded me of a new recruit who claims he’s so exhausted he can’t walk after he does his first day of calisthenics. Like, sure, you’re definitely _going_ to be sore, but you’re a long way from lame, cadet.”

 

“I was going to die.”

 

“Yes, yes, of course.” Kaoru tousles Rei’s hair. “And every hangover has killed me.”

 

Rei shoots him a weary look. “Like I said—you can joke about it all you want. I’m relieved your bond doesn’t prohibit you from doing things that keep you living as a normal human.”

 

Kaoru drops his hand, the smile falling from his face. “It’s only funny now,” he mutters. “It wasn’t funny at the time. I was too preoccupied to laugh.”

 

“Likewise. I was too busy crying.” Rei heaves a sigh. “Which was a lot less about the dying, honestly, and a lot more about how touching you could never happen again, or so my tiny little brain thought…but, ah, well.”

 

“At least I can still touch you,” Kaoru says quietly. “We can still…be us. Even if it isn’t the way it used to be. Even if I’ll always miss the way it used to be.”

 

“I’m glad it’s easier for you. I, unfortunately, am the way I am,” Rei grouses. “I’m never really going to be happy about it. I think it’s stupid, and unfair. That’s selfish, of course, but well, I want what I want, and that’s you.”

 

“It’s not _easy_ ,” Kaoru snaps. “I just don’t see the profit in fixating on something I can’t have. I had six years by myself when I thought I’d never see you again, it’s hard to have my heart broken the same way again and again. It’s easier to be around you and touch you than to have nothing, yes. I want more, of _course_ I do, I always will. I’ll _always_ want you.”

 

“Do you think I _want_ to fixate on you?” Rei rounds on him. “I’d love to be able to graciously let you go, Kaoru, but I told you when I was first bonded that I’d fix it—and I did. I came back to you. You were the _first person_ I went to. My bond didn’t consume my entire _mind_ like yours obviously has.”

 

“I didn’t come here to attack you,” Kaoru says, doing what he thinks is an incredible job of not raising his voice. “Hey. Seriously. It’s…we’re both mad at the situation, not each other. That was fucking hurtful, but…you didn’t mean it, right?”

 

“I’m just annoyed that if it’s my bond, I’m entirely to blame. If it’s yours, ahh, I should be gentle and understanding. It’s the same thing with our son—yes, obviously it’s a bad situation for both of us, but you’re not even batting an eye that I am giving up my _only_ son. So yes, I’m feeling a _bit_ like I’m backed into a corner.” _Tell me to calm down,_ is the abrupt, desperate sliver of thought sent directly to Shu.

 

 _Is it Eichi?_ comes the immediate answer, quicker than thought.

 

_No, but he hasn’t made anything better. I miss you, I need you, the longer I’m in the North the worse it gets._

 

_I’ll be there soon. Until then—if it isn’t Eichi, then it’s someone you love. Don’t let your tongue drive them away. That’s something I’d do._

 

_Be here sooner._

 

There’s an abrupt pause in thought. Then, _All right._

 

The wave of relief that follows that is so, so palpable. _Please and thank you. You being here will make this better. And Izumi’s here. You can tell he’s lost without someone on his wavelength._

 

“…I’m being a moody shit,” Rei abruptly says aloud, raking a hand back through his hair. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m—well, there’s a dozen reasons why. That doesn’t matter, forgive me for being short.”

 

Kaoru’s face is tense and unhappy, but he waves a hand. “Sure, forgiven. But Rei…we talked about it. You’re _not_ giving up your only son. He’s yours. You can see him whenever you want—I know, you’re going to be busy, but I told you, I’ll do whatever I can, whatever I have to to make it work. I’m _trying_ to come up with solutions for both of us.”

 

“Except I _am._ If he wants any chance at being ‘normal’, as a human, or as a demon, you _know_ he has to pick one. You _know_ that. Otherwise he’s going to end up like me, where he doesn’t fit in either place, and when he tries to, he just ends up pissing people off.” Rei’s jaw is set in a tense, unhappy line as well. “And the safest place is with him as a human, especially if he blooms.”

 

“Rei…” Kaoru sinks down, sitting on the haystack, his bones suddenly too weary to hold him up. “Tell me what you want, then. Stop making me feel like I’m attacking you. I’m not.”

 

“I’ve already told you what needs to happen. That doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it.”

 

“Natsume can work a portal spell like I’ve never _seen_ ,” Kaoru urges. “We can travel up and down all the time, I’ll move us to my hideaway house in the Hinterlands, we’ll only be a day’s ride apart.”

 

“I think you’re deliberately not listening to me at this point. I’m _trying_ to give _you_ what you want—not an hour ago, you were convinced I was going to thrall our son into…I don’t know what. Hating you, or something? It’s beyond me, whatever it is.”

 

“That’s _not_ what I said!” Kaoru says hotly, sitting bolt upright, his eyes wide. “If—if it sounded like that, I’m sorry, obviously you’d be mad, but that’s not what I said, and it’s not what I meant!”

 

“You flat out said ‘I don’t want you to thrall our son.’ How _else_ am I supposed to take that, Kaoru?”

 

“Well—I don’t!” Kaoru scowls. “You’re ignoring the context.”

 

“Am I? The rest of it was along the lines of questioning my morality and that’s why you can’t help but think I might thrall him.”

 

Kaoru takes a deep breath, and sends out a desperate, frustrated flare towards Natsume, trying to remember what he’d said. “If…maybe this would be easier if you’d take the thrall off of Mao,” he says carefully. “Then it won’t weigh on my mind, and I can forget the whole thing ever happened. Believe me, I want to try.”

 

“And I told you,” Rei evenly says, “I’ll take it off as soon as Ritsu goes home. Or do you not trust me enough to believe even that?”

 

“What the fuck do you want from me at this point, Rei?” Kaoru snaps, weary frustration boiling over. “It weighs on me. I can _feel_ it, pressing in, making me sick, reminding me with every gods-damned heartbeat that you thought it was _fine_. I’ve been trying so hard—so _fucking_ hard to make nice with you because I hate, hate, hate fighting with you! But the more I do, the more obvious it is that you don’t care! You’re happy if we’re not happy with each other? Why? Because there are some bad things in the world, so it’s fine if we’re all upset instead of trying to work together? Because you’re unhappy, so _everyone_ has to be unhappy?”

 

_Don’t answer him. Walk out of the barn, and take me in your arms. I’m here._

 

“The fact that my agreement to take it off isn’t enough for you—it was a mistake to ask you return to the side of the paladins, _obviously_ , because now you’re going to scrutinize every single damned thing that I do to the nth degree! I—“

 

Rei bites down on his tongue, pushing away from the stall door. “Enough. If you think I don’t care, you’re the _biggest_ idiot I know!”

 

He turns, stalking off into the snow, abruptly snatching Shu close with an arm around his waist in order to stuff his face into his shoulder and breathe in a deep, shaky breath.

 

“You’re more tense than you were before you fought the bastard,” Shu murmurs, holding Rei more tightly than a human’s arms could hope to, squeezing him back to sanity, smelling of bergamot and lilacs. “Let me into your mind, my Lord. Let me unwind you.”

 

“I can talk and murder all day, lover’s spats are a different story,” Rei whispers with a ragged laugh, slumping against Shu’s hold. _I hate, hate, hate, hate this._

 

“Shh.”

 

Shu’s long fingers twine into Rei’s hair, and he deftly unwinds the tangled knots of emotion around Rei’s mind, messed and muddled up with his power. “Hmm. How odd.”

 

“What?” Rei grumpily asks, attempting to space out and allow himself to be petted back to calmness. “Don’t say that. Not right now, nothing else is allowed to be _odd_.”

 

“Have you been…more irritable than usual, here in the North?” Shu asks, rather casually as his fingertips massage into Rei’s scalp.

 

“I’m close to the Shadowlands, I’m going to be snippy,” Rei mutters, his head tipping forward as Shu pets him. “That, and any time I’m up here, it’s only for troublesome things.”

 

“And it would have nothing to do with the prevailing magical energy being somewhat at odds with yours, hmm?” Shu asks archly, weaving a spell between his fingers, insulating Rei from a lot of the conflicting energies. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with your delicate Greenbred roots being frosted out by the protection spells the drakes have woven into their glaciers?”

 

“…I…” Rei begins, then finishes, rather sheepishly, “did not think of that. At all.”

 

Shu regards his face for a moment, then kisses him soundly, sealing off the spell to protect him. “You are adorable.”

 

Rei nearly bursts into tears on the spot, courtesy of a combination of _finally_ not feeling like his hackles are constantly raised and Shu being _Shu_. “You’re the only one that thinks so,” he huffs instead, his head knocking back down into Shu’s shoulder. “Due in part to me being a dreadful beast, but there’s _so much_ and I want to die. Please sit and talk with me where it’s warmer and tell me why I’m an idiot.”

 

“If I must.” Shu raises a gloved hand to Rei’s cheek, then draws away, tugging him down the snow-trodden path. “Where should we speak? There are people in the cottage, aren’t there? I’d rather sit in a drafty lean-to in the snow as long as it’s just you and me.”

 

“You can tell me other things, too, about maybe why I’m not an idiot, but that’s what I’m accustomed to right now,” Rei sighs, letting himself be drawn along. “Every house you see is abandoned. The entire North…it’s a wasteland. Pick one, your presence warms anything.”

 

Shu gives him a small, rather cocky smile. “I’ve been informed lately that my presence is soothing to children. I like knowing this, so I’m in as good a mood as I can be in, without having you at my side. If it helps,” he adds, selecting a cozy-looking hut and magicking the door open, “I think you’re the most brilliant man I’ve ever had the privilege to know.”

 

“You don’t have to go _that_ far in your compliments,” Rei sighs, but basks in that for a moment all the same as he walks inside, immediately letting his magic spread out and heat the place from the sheer thrumming strength of it. He collapses onto the dusty, abandoned fur in front of the fireplace, raking both hands through his hair. “Of course your presence is soothing to children. _I_ think you’re quite soothing, that should tell you everything you need to know,” he jokes.

 

Shu flicks his fingers, and brings a fire surging to life in the abandoned fireplace. A moment later, a strand of flame leaps out to his fingers, dancing merrily between them for a moment before shifting, taking the shape of an infant with a single, golden curl in the middle of his forehead, yawning and sleepily smiling up at both of them. “He’s very good-natured,” Shu says, holding out the flame-child for a moment, letting Rei look his fill. “The wetnurses are quite taken with him.”

 

Rei watches for a long moment, his expression fond as much as it is pained. “I’m at a loss as to what to do about him,” he quietly admits, his gaze finally flicking back up to Shu’s. “Natsume says he’s going to bloom. Kaoru clearly wants to take him. I…think it would be safer, wiser, _better_ for him here in the human realm. And funneling him back and forth…”

 

Shu waves a hand, dismissing the entire conflict. “What will happen, will happen,” he says, utterly unconcerned. “He has four adults who love him and tolerate each other, he’ll always have a safe and happy home, no matter where. Was I too obvious about where he’s hidden? Now that Eichi’s contained, I can tell you, if you want to know.”

 

“I know you didn’t go all the way to the Sandlands. And if it’s wetnurse _s_ , plural, then my best guess…High Harbor?” Rei guesses, though his brow remains furrowed. “Please don’t brush it aside so easily. He’s the only child I have and I _want him_ , badly enough that I want to steal him into the Shadowlands and never let him come back out. Kaoru would just…hate me.”

 

Shu banishes the illusion with a fond motion, turning and snuggling up against Rei, never quite letting their skin stop touching. “He is a cherished, beloved child,” he allows, stroking the backs of his fingers over Rei’s forearm. “But he will not be your only child. Don’t have so little faith in me.”

 

“I don’t. But he’s the only one I have right now, and…Shu, you know my mind better than anyone, you can probably hear every shitty instinct I have flaring up right now,” Rei says with a ragged laugh, nestling his way against Shu’s side. “I keep trying to be logical about it, and I just keep being angry. I’m not asking for a solution, I’m just…complaining, I suppose, about myself.”

 

Shu strokes Rei’s hair, twining the strands around his own long, precise fingers. “I don’t think I’ll be a very good parent,” he says abruptly. “If we’re venting about things about ourselves we don’t like. Morisawa is far better suited—you were right, of course, that’s where he is.”

 

“A good choice, Chiaki is delightful,” Rei murmurs, his eyes slowly lidding. “You don’t have to parent. I can do that part. So can Mika.”

 

Shu’s eyebrows shoot straight up. “You have so little confidence in me?”

 

“No, but I do know that children produce two of the things you hate the most—loud shrieking and dirty clothes.”

 

“Well, _my_ children won’t. They’ll be far better trained than that.”

 

Rei snorts in amusement. “And you say I’m adorable,” he says, nuzzling his head against Shu’s shoulder like a great big cat. “That would be you.”

 

“Nonsense. I’m merely—Rei, you’ll knock me over, you’re like a large jungle cat that thinks you’re a kitten.”

 

“You’re the one petting me, you’ve caused this,” Rei uncaringly replies, lacing his arms around Shu’s waist. “Whatever you did lifted about a _million_ little pinpricks of… _whatever_ that I did not realize were digging into me and making me absolutely miserable.”

 

“You were riddled with cracks,” Shu says softly, leaning against Rei’s shoulder, letting his eyes close. “Little tiny ones, I thought at first you were under attack, but then I remembered that plant you showed me, with the million little roots that was frozen out by the frost. It looked _just_ like that.”

 

“Ahhh. It’s so basic, but alas, I’m a fool. You’d think I’d pay attention to you or Natsume attempting to educate me one of these days…honestly, the root system of my magic is so large, I couldn’t even feel it as one, widespread problem.” Rei nuzzles up into Shu’s hair. “I’ve been nothing but scolded since imprisoning Eichi and convincing him to kill the drude. I honestly just assumed I was cranky.”

 

“Scolded? My Lord, my poor Lord,” Shu murmurs, no hint of mockery in his tone. “You’re a hero. I’ll worship you as such, in your homeland or here, or wherever I find you.”

 

“Not that I called you here to be doted upon, but…thank you, I feel doted upon,” Rei sighs, flopping backwards and dragging Shu down with him, stretching out completely in front of the fire. “He asked me to dissolve the marriage,” he finally says. “Amicably. Which is fine. I understand. Then somehow, we ended up just…arguing. About our son. Then about unrelated things, the thrall. He thinks I’d thrall that boy. Tell me honestly, do I seem like I would?”

 

Shu shrugs a shoulder. “If it were in his best interests, yes.”

 

“But I wouldn’t, that’s the thing.” Rei’s brow furrows. “He’s acting like I’d thrall the child to keep him or something.”

 

“Well, you wouldn’t do it just to keep him. But if it was in his best interests? Like it was for the king,” Shu clarifies. “If some demon got their hooks into him in the Shadowlands, and the only way to save him was to thrall him. Of course you would.”

 

“I mean…I suppose, especially because he’s three-quarters human, he’s automatically at a disadvantage in a case like that…” Rei hedges. “But—Kaoru’s using the case with Mao to justify his concerns.”

 

“Rei. Do you think you did the right thing, with Mao?”

 

“Yes. Completely.”

 

“Then don’t be angry if he says you might thrall the child.” Shu shrugs a shoulder. “You might. It’s solved difficult problems for you in the past. His morality doesn’t have to be yours.”

 

“…Maybe not. But I dislike that someone I’ve been with for centuries suddenly finds me morally deplorable,” Rei wearily says. “And—more than that, somehow, I dislike that Natsume might, too. They’re cleaved together. How do I compartmentalize that? Let it go and deal with the consequences?”

 

“…That one…I don’t know,” Shu admits. “Maybe. Or not. Honestly, I find it difficult to accept that there _is_ such a thing as magic that is inherently bad. Look at Mika.”

 

“Likewise.” Rei’s smile is wry. “Kaoru lets him slide plenty. Natsume and Mika are close—as close as Natsume and Mika can be with another person, you know. But a thrall…apparently, that’s the end-all, be-all of heinous. Not that Natsume has said that, but…Kaoru has. And he doesn’t…” Rei trails off, frowning as he glances off into the fire. “There are consequences, if I release that thrall.”

 

“Are there?” Shu’s voice is nothing but intrigued. “What are they? I must say, I don’t know too much about thralling. But if you’ve used it, it must have its just applications.”

 

“I don’t like it,” Rei admits, reaching up to toy with a strand of Shu’s hair distractedly. “That’s why it’s a last resort for me. Some demons do it as their sole source of magic…I know Eichi has had no shortage of thralls. I thought, for a time, even Keito was one of them. But…it has its usage. Magical suppression, at the will of the demon, is part of that. That’s what I was able to do with Leo, specifically.”

 

“Mm,” Shu murmurs in understanding, closing his eyes. “I’m listening. I’m following.”

 

“Magical enhancement, of course, is also part of that. That’s why Mao is a strange Enhanced, though the talent isn’t…not there. I’ve just helped, a bit, at his request. What Kaoru _doesn’t_ understand is that there are levels to thralls, mine especially. A full, complete thrall is something I can’t do without sex magic, and ah—obviously—I did not have sex with a five year old. Mao’s requests are his own…some of his decisions I’ve influenced, but those are orders, specifically…which he’d need to accept anyway, as my spy.”

 

“Hm. I didn’t know there were differing levels.” Shu smiles, and touches Rei’s cheek. “Perhaps you’re the only one who knows them, my brilliant Lord.”

 

“…Maybe. But Kaoru won’t hear about it.” Rei’s eyes lid. “And he wants me to release Mao’s thrall sooner, rather than later. I’m stalling, and I’m sure he can tell.”

 

“And what are those consequences you mentioned?”

 

“So…going back some twenty-odd years at this point. Consider the circumstances of Mao’s sister’s death. _She_ was a wizard that bloomed. Highly aberrant, in any circumstance, correct? I can’t even say I fault Eichi entirely for killing her; I wouldn’t know what to do with such a thing. Female wizards are an incredible rarity.”

 

“Quite terrifying,” Shu agrees. “Though I fault him entirely. Go on.”

 

“The assumption is that,” Rei carefully continues, “I thralled Mao immediately as a five year-old. That’s not…quite true. I waited, until he started seeing the flashes. That took about a month. And then I thralled him, with his agreement, and he was none the wiser of two things. One—he was going to bloom. Two—he absolutely, undoubtedly, has a bond that’s meant to form with Keito.”

 

Rei sucks in a slow breath before continuing. “Which…would have pissed Eichi off to no end. For someone that treats Keito so poorly, he’s so terribly possessive of him. Ah, so…now here we are, and I’ve backed myself into a corner about it. I actually have no idea _what_ will happen if I take it off, but I don’t think it’ll be good.”

 

Shu stares at Rei for a long time. Then, very quietly, very deliberately, he says, “Fuck.”

 

“Ah, yes, that’s the correct response. Thank you, for understanding immediately every time.”

 

“Kaoru knows this?” Shu demands. “And he’s still telling you to undo it immediately?”

 

“He does _not_ know this. He’s made it very clear there is no reason I could give to justify it at this point. I keep making excuses to extend it. I know—I know, I’ve dug my own grave,” Rei exhales, looking away. “But he’s made it _very_ clear, Shu, that as a paladin, he can’t let it slide no matter what…and any time I start talking about magic or wizard-related things, his mind shuts off. He’ll still tell me it needs to go. He’s sometimes convinced that I should’ve just let the king suffer and die.”

 

Shu nods slowly. “Like I said. You don’t need to have his morality. But…ah, what a bind. You know you can’t keep it up forever. Among other reasons, if something happens to you or cuts off the thrall, he’ll experience all of that with no preparation or warning.”

 

“I know. I know, I’ve thought about that before—but…ah, now isn’t the time. There’s never a good time,” Rei frets. “And as time passes, Keito just gets older as well…this is the worst, you know.”

 

Shu gently takes Rei’s hand, and squeezes it. “I say this with all the love in my heart, and my heart is open to you,” he says carefully. “But you are stealing that boy’s life. If someone kept my bond with you from me, even for a good reason, without telling me…I would kill them, Rei. And if you were growing old in front of me, and my time with you was limited to a few paltry decades…I would scatter that person’s bones for the crows.”

 

“…I’m more worried that he’s dead the second I take that thrall off, and Keito with him,” Rei quietly admits, curling his fingers around Shu’s. “I don’t know what repressing a wizard’s blooming does. And aberrant magic tends to run in the family. I know you’re right, of course; you always are. That child was already so attached to Keito, he probably knows. Bonds tend to find a way.”

 

“You need to do the thing you want to least in the world,” Shu says, stroking Rei’s hand with his own long fingers. “You need to tell Mao all of this. Can you do that, without letting the thrall you made affect his feelings?”

 

“I certainly will try my damndest—let it be known, I _was_ going to tell him all of this, and yet again, give him the option of whether I took it off or not. And if he said ‘not’, I would’ve just set him free of working for me, even with the thrall still protecting him. Kaoru’s the one pushing for it being _gone_.” Rei sighs, rolling onto his back and shutting his eyes.

 

“You were going to?” Shu asks. “What stopped you? You’ve had…well. Twenty years, haven’t you?”

 

“…I think…you know why I’ve been hesitating, and I will admit, it’s perhaps the worst thing about me.”

 

“Of course. You don’t want him to hate you.”

 

“Oh, if it were only that. I don’t want _Ritsu_ to hate me.”

 

“Ah. And your eventual plan for dealing with this was…”

 

“…hoping Ritsu would fall madly in love with someone else? It seemed to be working.”

 

“You tried to give him Izumi, you mean.”

 

“I didn’t _try_ anything. I merely facilitated it.”

 

Shu purses his lips. “You couldn’t have found Ritsu a nice demon lord of his own? Since the king’s gone, Izumi won’t rest until he’s found. Perhaps, if we’d retained the king…”

 

 _“That_ was a whole other situation, please don’t scold me for that,” Rei pleads. “You know as well as I do there was nothing to be done; all options had been exhausted, and at the time, I couldn’t work a bit of spellwork on Leo. If we want to get very technical about it, Izumi _is_ something of a demon lord, especially up here in the North. And when I started facilitating such things, it wasn’t as if he was married, _or_ on the best of terms with Leo…”

 

Shu holds up a hand. “It’s not a scolding, I’m merely attempting to solve an issue with you, not working against you. Ah…this is quite a snarl.”

 

“Sorry. I don’t mean to be on the defensive, I’ve just been working with people that want to do nothing but chide me,” Rei exhaustedly says, briefly shutting his eyes. “And that I don’t trust to take this information well. Perhaps…we should focus on finding the king. There’s a good chance, unfortunately, that his brain is a bit fried from all of this, and he’s well and truly useless now…”

 

“No, my Lord,” Shu says gently, stroking Rei’s hair. “You’ve been putting off dealing with this thrall for far too long, and it’s weighing on you. Finding the king won’t help. Izumi won’t leave the king no matter what, not to go to be your brother’s security blanket. You owe Mao the truth for all of his loyal service.”

 

“I _know_ you’re right, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Rei groans, turning his head into Shu’s touch. “It’ll get done. I swear it. Thank you for not just scolding me.”

 

“I’ll help, if you like. I’ll be with you, or help you practice, or run interference,” Shu offers. “I’m not trying to abandon you to Ritsu’s tender mercies.”

 

“He’s absolutely going to flip on me,” Rei bluntly says. “He already tried to earlier, regarding the king. I had to slap that down, speak Shadowtongue at him and the whole lot of it. It wasn’t cute.”

 

Shu purses his lips. “It really must have been bad, if _you’re_ saying Ritsu wasn’t cute.”

 

“It was very uncute. Everyone’s inability to understand why the king left is beyond me.”

 

“If I were a less kind person, I’d say it’s because the king took on a great deal of personal responsibility at the expense of himself, and people are unable to understand such a thing. Fortunately, I am a very kind person,” Shu says loftily. “You may praise my kindness.”

 

“The kindest person I know, in fact,” Rei murmurs, and abruptly buries his face into Shu’s shoulder. “More and more, every time you’re away from me, I’m so lost.” 

 

“That’s because you’re a fool,” Shu says gently. “We’re never apart. That’s what the bond is. All you have to do is open it wide whenever you need me.”

 

“If I leave it wide open when you aren’t right next to me, I go crazy from needing to see you,” is Rei’s muffled response. “So obviously the solution is for you to just be here all the time.”

 

“Do you know how I made my way here so quickly, my Lord?” Shu asks, stroking Rei’s hair. “You didn’t even ask.”

 

“I assume you can do anything, because you’re perfect.”

 

“Ah. I’ll keep my secrets, then.”

 

“No, you will not, I need to know everything about you.”

 

Shu smirks, but it relaxes soon enough into a real, small smile of fierce pride. “I followed the bond. It wants us to be close, you know. And I’ve never found a magical source more potent.”

 

“You just pulled it, and appeared? How…delightful,” Rei says with a laugh, pulling Shu closer. “You really are perfect. You’re going to make a hell of a Demon Queen.”

 

“There was vastly more effort and magical theory involved in it than that!” Shu protests, struggling a bit for good form. “Don’t reduce it to something so simple!”

 

“Mmm? My apologies, did you not just wiggle your fingers and it happened brilliantly? I assumed it was so effortless for my queen…”

 

“I mean—of course I did! Hahaha, I can do anything!”

 

“That’s what I thought. Of course my queen is perfect,” Rei purrs, nosing at Shu’s neck. “Mmn, and not to impart one more task upon you…but I’m afraid my Nightcloak is on loan with Natsume, perhaps permanently? He’s at a bit of a loss without his own, you can tell.”

 

“It’s already being spun,” Shu assures him. “With added protections against any sort of darkfire any bastard archdemons may see fit to throw at him. I started it the second I got back to my wheel. Nnh, my Lord…the more you do that, the hungrier I grow…”

 

“Is that supposed to deter me? Seeing you makes me hungry all the time,” Rei sighs, nuzzling again, this time with a little nibble. “You’re _more_ than perfect, somehow.”

 

“Of course I am,” Shu gasps, nails raking over Rei’s scalp, pulling his head down. “I’m perfect for _you_.”

 

“You’re right. You are.”

 

Rei nuzzles at Shu’s neck again, tongue dragging over soft, pale, _perfect_ skin, as if priming it for the perfect bite before he actually bites down, a low, pleased groan welling up in his throat as he sucks slowly, taking his time when he drinks.

 

Shu sucks in his breath in a sudden, sharp inhalation, then exhales slowly, his body going deliciously pliant in Rei’s arms. “Hold me up when you feed from me,” he murmurs, eyes rolling back, long lashes fluttering. “Or I’ll fall, and never rise again, ahh, ah, Rei, never…never stop…”

 

It takes a _great_ deal of effort to actually stop, especially when those words come from Shu’s lips. Rei breaks away, shivering, licking his lips clean before he goes to suck on the bite mark he’d left behind again. “Everything about you is so sweet, I never want to stop,” he groans, arms tightening about Shu to keep him close. “I have half the mind to just leave and never look back right now—don’t encourage that, I don’t want to be convinced.”

 

“You don’t have to go anywhere,” Shu breathes, shifting to wrap his arms and legs around Rei, his cloak falling over them both, rosy hair spilling free of its tie. “Lose yourself in me, and no matter where you are, there’s a haven. I am your home, Rei. Come inside.”

 

Rei’s own limbs tangle with Shu’s, his legs sliding their way between Shu’s thighs as he rolls them, _needing_ the warmth of Shu beneath him more than anything he’s ever needed. “You really are the most beautiful thing,” he murmurs, nipping at Shu’s throat, then mouthing his way up to his lips to steal a kiss. “I probably don’t deserve a gift like you.” 

 

“I’m not a gift,” Shu says, as tartly as he can manage when Rei’s mouth is warm on his, dragging heat out of him in turn. “I’m a man who loves being here, with you. Ah…perhaps we are both gifts from the gods, to each other.”

 

He loses himself in a long, indulgent kiss, then sighs. “Touch me. I want nothing but your body on mine.”

 

“I will give you _anything_ you want,” Rei says, licking his lips as he pulls back, admiring the stain of Shu’s own blood tinting his lips. His fingers drag down Shu’s chest, absently toying with buttons before they stray, grazing over a nipple underneath that fine fabric. “Though I must insist that you are _absolutely_ a gift. I think I’m a bit of a curse for you,” he cheerfully says, giving that nipple a gentle little tweak. “But you seem to like that.”

 

“If—“ Shu’s next word devolves into a high-pitched squeak, a startling contrast to his usual deep voice. “A-ah, I…nnh, if you’re my curse, may I never recover. Put…” He swallows, and takes a fistful of Rei’s hair. “I want your mouth. I want you to taste me.”

 

Rei’s eyes flutter, and he immediately slides down, shoving up Shu’s shirt to kiss down his stomach, teeth catching gently against the jut of a hip bone. “Gladly,” he murmurs, fingers deftly unlacing Shu’s breeches as he dips his head, nuzzling at Shu’s thigh. “You smell so good here—if I take another bite, don’t fault me.”

 

“I hope you mean my thigh,” Shu says, a bit of alarm lacing his voice. “In which case, no fault. But, ah, there’s an area I’d rather prefer you avoid, with your teeth…”

 

Rei laughs, glancing up through his lashes. “I like your cock too much, don’t worry,” he sweetly says, pressing a kiss to Shu’s thigh before taking another bite as promised, sucking slowly to enjoy the taste even more.

 

Shu shivers, head tipping back to expose his long neck, bite marks shimmering in the low light. His thighs tremble, then splay, long legs stretching out to give Rei all the room he needs. His thigh burns hot, then cool, then hot again with the rest of his body, igniting a flame under his skin as he arches. “Aahhh…” The world spins, as he goes dizzy and lightheaded, uncaring about anything but Rei between his thighs, unable to form coherent words.

 

Rei doesn’t take as long of a drink, but he does milk it for as long as he can, sucking and licking at the bite on Shu’s thigh until he’s certain there will be a bruise left behind. He draws back, licking his lips, and doesn’t wait for a moment before dropping his head back down, lips closing around Shu’s cock and sucking him in, eagerly, hungrily lapping at his cock as he swallows it down.

 

Shu drifts, awash in a sea of pleasure, knowing Rei doesn’t need him to be vocal, doesn’t need him to be active, just needs him to enjoy. His nails rake along Rei’s scalp every time something especially delicious happens, but mostly he lies still, breathing shallowly, feeling his pulse jump and quicken with every lap of Rei’s long tongue against his intimate areas. _You’re so good at this…I can hardly breathe…_

 

_I’d do this forever, if that’s what you wanted._

 

Rei exhales a pleased, content sound when he feels Shu’s nails rake against him, and swallows him down to the root, nuzzling down as he breathes in slowly through his nose. Each suck and lick of his tongue is nothing sort of worshipping, and it’s with a careful spell that leaves his fingers slick before delving down, teasing Shu’s hole before methodically pressing inside.

 

Shu’s body reacts as if he’s been struck by lightning. His back bows, every muscle tensing up as his hips jut up, shoving himself further into Rei’s mouth, his hole squeezing down on those intruding, _perfect_ fingers. They touch him just where he needs it, just where he wants it, just where he needs to be _completed_ , making his breath catch, turning a sigh into a groan as he spills down Rei’s throat, pulse after pulse of heat flooding from him.

 

Rei swallows dutifully, again and again, not spilling a drop as his fingers keep stroking from the inside, curling just right as his mouth doesn’t miss a drop. He looks up through the mussed fall of his hair, his eyes dark and no less hungry, even after this. _Another round, love? I’ll stay here and drink you dry, if you let me._

 

Shu’s laugh is shaky, eyes lidded. “Dry?” he finally murmurs, petting Rei’s hair as his chest rises and falls, and he tries to catch his breath. “I think you mean ‘empty,’ rather. That’s how I feel…when you aren’t inside me, where you belong.”

 

Rei purrs, slowly releasing Shu’s cock with a content lick of his lips before butting up against his hand like an enormous cat. “I’ll happily stay inside you all day, too,” he sighs, crawling his way back up between Shu’s thighs. “Though if I did that, my magic would go e~verywhere…”

 

Shu twines his arms around Rei’s neck, nuzzling up against him, even as he keeps the petting up. “This barren wasteland would be lucky to have my lord’s magic in its soil,” he breathes, his toes curling. “Show those drakes what it means…to be touched by your blessed hand…”

 

Rei muffles a laugh into Shu’s hair, nuzzling his face into it before kissing the shell of his ear. “Mmn, is that what I should do?” he murmurs, reaching a hand down to free his own cock, hissing out a breath at how just touching himself makes it throb within his grasp. “But I don’t _care_ about drakes, or the North, to be honest…” A quick kiss to the inside of one of Shu’s knees, and that long, lean leg makes its way over his shoulder before he eases his cock inside that hot, slick hole. “I care,” Rei breathes, his eyes lidding as he rocks forward, “about making you feel good.”

 

“You…” Shu’s mind breaks free of that thought, soaring high as Rei pushes in, sparking his body alight again from resplendent comfort in the blink of an eye, and his voice catches, breaking as it turns into a long moan. “Oh…Rei…y-you don’t need to, to care about it…”

 

Shu catches his breath for a moment, panting shallowly, eyes closed as his body squirms and shifts, stretching to accommodate the thickness of that huge cock. “It’s…so good…when you’re…where you belong…”

 

“And you—feel so good under me, like this,” Rei groans, his head dropping down against Shu’s shoulder for a moment, his hands curling tight about his hips to tug him up. He takes his time, his cock rocking in bit by bit with shallow little thrusts, and he turns his head to the side to kiss and suck at the arc of Shu’s throat as he moves, his own breathing shallow and pleased. “Ahh…gods, why do we ever try to be apart…”

 

“There’s nothing good about being apart,” Shu agrees, then gasps, clutching Rei tightly for a moment, so tightly his hands almost cramp up, when Rei brushes over such delicious spots inside of him. “I…may die,” he groans, feeling sweat bead on his forehead, the insistent press of that thick cock rocking into him, touching him like _only_ that cock can. “B-but it’ll be…ah, _such_ a good death.”

 

“Likewise,” Rei breathily says, letting his knees slide in closer as he grinds in harder, a hot breath panting out against Shu’s shoulder when he’s buried in so deeply that his eyes cross. “Oh,” he exhales, his fingers squeezing around Shu’s waist. “I really am going to die. Keep grabbing at me, love, I want to feel you when you can’t stand it anymore…”

 

“Th-that’s all the time, with you,” Shu protests, tears pricking his eyes as he squeezes down, riding with the motion of Rei’s thrusting, his body squirming to accept the shocking width of him. “You’re always…just…too much…but if it was any less, I’d die, so…”

 

Rei exhales a ragged, shaky breath into Shu’s neck, mouthing kisses there again as his hands drag up, thumbs rubbing over the hard nubs of his nipples. “Then it better not be less, huh?” he murmurs, long, dark hair draping around Shu’s face as he rocks forward. “Are you still going to want this, even if you’re knocked up?”

 

Shu’s body gives out. He cries out, grabbing Rei so tightly he hears his hands creak, all his muscles seizing up as he clenches down, spasming around Rei, letting that invading, stretching, stuffing fullness become a part of him, letting his body learn the shape, letting that shape teach him that that’s how it’s meant to be. He’s _meant_ to be full, _meant_ to be bred, _meant_ to be claimed and dominated and _possessed_ by this man, this one man. “Especially then,” he chokes out, his release painting his own belly. “Especially then.”

 

The way Shu squeezes around him makes his own brain short out, his last thoughts some blurred lines between _you’re perfect, so perfect_ and _mine, mine, mine, you’re mine_. Rei’s teeth flash, sinking into the crook of Shu’s shoulder as he holds him tight when his hips thrust forward, burying himself in deep as his own release quickly takes over, leaving him to spill inside Shu with a low, rumbling growl leaving his throat.

 

He feels the sweat dripping down from his brow when he finally lets go, slumping down atop Shu with a sated huff of breath. “There,” he murmurs. “Now you’ve been bred. Happy?”

 

“More,” Shu hears his stupid, traitorous mouth say, even as the rest of his body cries out for mercy. He grabs Rei’s hand, dragging it to his own belly, pressing down slightly. “Someday. I’ll give you something to feel there.”

 

“Someday,” Rei agrees, mouthing a kiss to Shu’s throat again. “Mmnn, you don’t _really_ mean more, love. I’m not here to leave you bedridden.”

 

Shu shudders a bit, then shakes his head, face hot. “I don’t mean more,” he admits. “I just…don’t know how to ask for anything else, with you. It’s all my soul wants.”

 

“Fortunately, I’m very good at translation.” Rei presses a kiss to that hot cheek as he slowly, carefully eases out, then collapses down next to Shu with a sated sigh. “Ah, there it goes,” he giddily says, watching the shift of his magic make warning cracks in the wood of the floor appear.

 

“Good. Ruin this place. Remake the whole world in your image, and I’ll dance in the rubble.”

 

“Nooo. As beautiful as that sounds—I don’t want to destroy this place…well, maybe the North needs it, a bit,” Rei sighs, shutting his eyes and tilting his head back. “But I do love the human realm…I just can’t stay here. Not anymore.”

 

“Then we’ll leave.” Shu strokes Rei’s hair, first to get it out of his face, then just for the pleasure of doing it. “And wherever we are, I’ll be there, and so will you. What could be better?”

 

“Ah…right now? You petting me. You petting me is better than anything else in this world.”

 

“But I can do that wherever we want, too. Imagine the options.”

 

“You’re right, but right now, without a desire to move at all, _this_ is the ideal.”

 

“Oh, well, I’m always the ideal,” Shu says, nodding in acceptance. “As long as you aren’t fretting, then, yes. This can continue indefinitely.”

 

“I didn’t used to be a fretter,” Rei sadly says, butting his head into Shu’s touch. “Alas. That _used_ to be you. You’ve become so strong, my queen.”

 

“Mm, do you know why?”

 

“Because you are truly the most perfect creature I’ve ever had the pleasure to know?”

 

“Ah. True, but no. It’s because I fretted so much that you took all the responsibility upon yourself. Which is stressful. Which is why I was fretting. But now, it’s on your shoulders. So you fret.”

 

“Mmm. But I don’t like that, because if I fret less, then you fret more. Why must we fret at all?” Rei complains, rolling onto his side and propping his chin into one hand. “I have a question for you. An important one. Don’t stop petting me, please.”

 

“I can answer an important question without petting you,” Shu allows, “if you let me pause briefly for dramatic effect, if warranted. Proceed.”

 

“You can pause for dramatic effect _only_ if you brush and braid my hair when we’re done. It might be more than one question. First question,” Rei idly says, drumming long fingers against his own cheek, “what do I do if the king cannot be found?”

 

Shu sighs. “A possibility that I wish were not a possibility,” he acknowledges, his fingers never pausing their stroking motion. “In that case, I think the only thing to do is throw your support behind Izumi and his child, and have Kaoru do the same, declaring that child a true heir to the throne. Then you hope and pray that someday, that foolish boy finds his way back to his throne. I think.”

 

“That’s exactly what I was thinking, but it’s a relief to hear you back me up entirely without any suggestion on my part,” Rei says, looking and sounding incredibly relieved. “The next question—do you think I can leave the Academy to Natsume at this point and expect him to be fine? I know he’s capable. That…isn’t what I’m asking.”

 

“…No,” Shu says, a little regretfully. “Right now, he’d make an excellent teacher, and a capable, though slightly in-over-his-head Head Teacher. In ten years, perhaps, if you…well, Rei, if you actually trained him for it. But even coming from me, he’s no good with people, or with politics.”

 

“Obviously, it wasn’t my intention to spring this on him right _now_ ,” Rei frets, glancing off to the side. “But if I don’t step down and take the Shadowlands properly…that’s a whole other level of disaster. The problem, of course, is there’s no other option. I don’t have anyone else even close to as skilled, or remotely capable.”

 

“Well, except the one person who _is_ skilled and capable, but I’d never agree to that in a thousand years,” Shu points out.

 

“There’s a reason why I didn’t include you, and it’s because that’s literally not happening.”

 

Shu smiles briefly. “I meant the bitch currently enjoying your hospitality in the Shadowlands. But no, I won’t do it either.”

 

“Oh. I had totally written him off, I was just thinking about how good you’d be. But no, absolutely not, fuck him and everything about him.”

 

“Good, good. Then why would I stop petting you?”

 

“No reason. I just desperately do not want you to. Ah…maybe because I’m going to have to leave that shitshow to Natsume all the same, that might make you stop petting me.” Rei grimaces. “And the fact I sort of want to kill Eichi before we find the king. That’s all.”

 

Shu falls quiet for a moment, though true to his words, his hand doesn’t stop its calming motion. “I want to talk to him,” he finally says. “Don’t stop letting me pet you.”

 

Rei’s eyes flick up, immediately wary. “You want to talk to Eichi.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“He’s not going to say anything you want to hear.”

 

“Mm. I suppose you’re right. But…doesn’t it make you wonder?” Shu’s eyes are distant, cast towards the Shadowlands. “He wanted to make my life miserable at the Academy because of you. But lately…it’s changed. He’s obsessed. And I don’t know why, and I want to. I don’t want to be afraid of him.”

 

“It doesn’t make me wonder, it makes me angry,” Rei reflexively says, his voice low and quietly furious. That anger isn’t directed at Shu, of course, but at the mere _thought_ of Eichi being able to utter a word towards him. “I don’t want you to be afraid of him, either—because he’s dead, or as dead as he can be, not because you have something to be afraid of. The idea of him saying some of the things he’s said to _me_ about you, straight to your face for a change—it makes me want to rip his tongue out and stuff it back down his throat.”

 

“If I’m afraid of a defenseless prisoner’s words, I’m pathetic,” Shu says flatly. “Why would he agree to speak to me and treat with me, but no one else? It doesn’t make sense, he should have demanded the king.”

 

“Forgive me, but—I can think of a few reasons, none of which will make you at ease.”

 

“Assuage my curiosity, or I’ll go ask him.”

 

“He gets off on scaring you. He very much wants to fuck you. He wants to do all of that, which will make me angry, which delights him.”

 

“But he wouldn’t bother such a detour in the middle of everything for such a stupid reason,” Shu says, frowning. “He doesn’t care about me _that_ much.”

 

“Except he does. Hasn’t he _always_ tormented you? And the closer you and I became, the more he wanted to. He’s insane, Shu; I—“ Rei’s mouth purses, and he looks away. “You’re welcome to speak to him, that’s your right,” he says after a moment’s pause. “But it be known I have been desperately trying to keep him away from you, especially after the _last_ time he spoke to you and upset you so, and I didn’t act swiftly enough.”

 

Shu huffs. “I just don’t like being afraid, Rei. And I don’t want you to…to make an international incident because you think I might be afraid, or that someone will say cruel words to me. It makes me feel infantile.”

 

“It’s not just the words, Shu. I’m afraid he’s going to follow through the moment he gets the chance. I’m not trying to infantilize you, I’m just trying to _keep_ an international incident from happening.”

 

“Well…then perhaps don’t say you’re going to torture and kill him before finding the king,” Shu suggests.

 

Rei pouts. “That’s not an incident, that’s fair,” he sniffs. “After what he did to Natsume? To hell with him. Don’t chide me, I want to think about him dying for a moment.”

 

Shu breathes in through his nose, the air suddenly trembling. “I…can’t think about what he did to Natsume. Or I’ll kill him right now.”

 

“Maybe you should continue that line of thought, then, and then go kill him with me. That’s all I can think about, actually. The fact I had to kiss the piece of shit to distract him and have him captured makes me want to vomit.”

 

“We’re not pursuing that line of thought right now,” Shu says, voice clipped as he turns his head away. “It’s too seductive, it’s not going to be my best reasoning speaking for me, and I dislike that.”

 

“Sometimes, it feels good to give into those thoughts,” Rei murmurs. “But I understand. Maybe you should go talk to him, if the situation is troubling you. Your intuition rarely fails you.”

 

“Exactly. I’m brilliant, as you say.” Shu frowns. “I hope Alistair will be fine with me gone for a few extra days, in case I get stuck.”

 

“Alistair? Oh, that’s a very… _you_ name.”

 

“You told me to name him,” Shu points out. “The wetnurse was calling him Snugglewuggle, I had to do something.”

 

“Now _that’s_ an _excellent_ dog name.”

 

“No, Rei.”

 

“But it is! Imagine, a little fluffy round poof of a dog, with its feet all perfectly circular, and you’re ready to cuddle it and you call ’Sir Snugglewuggles! Come to papa!’—“

 

“Oh, well, if he’s been _knighted_ , that makes all the difference, obviously.”

 

“He absolutely has been knighted. With paws like that? No chance otherwise.”

 

“You’d best find the king, then. He’s the only one that can create a knight.”

 

“I suppose you’re right. Then,”Rei archly says, pushing himself up onto one hand, “why don’t you go talk to that dreadful thing, and I’ll do a bit of hunting?”

 

“Ah…it sounds so terrible,” Shu says, rather affably. “Fine. Good. Let’s both have a success to report in a couple of days, and then we can both give Alistair kisses on his plump cheeks.”

 

“…That does sound lovely,” Rei softly says, his eyes lidding. “Even though I still think it will be easier, if I keep my distance from him.”

 

“…I think,” Shu says carefully, “that the older he gets, the more you will decide that giving him love is never the wrong option. But you’re older than I, you may have a different experience.”

 

“I—“ Rei hesitates, glancing away. “You’re not wrong,” he finally says. “That doesn’t change how worried I am right now, about being attached and not being able to see him every single day.”

 

“You’ll be attached no matter what,” Shu points out, gradually getting to his feet, straightening the mess they’d made of his clothing. “Do you really think you’d ever be able to detach from the child you carried, however briefly?”

 

“No,” Rei wryly says, watching Shu move with half-lidded, adoring eyes. “But I wanted to try, for the sake of my sanity.”

 

“Being sane is overrated,” Shu says with a shrug. “I do just fine.”

 

“And yet, you’re the sanest person I know.”

 

“And you have more love in your heart than anyone I know,” Shu says, turning to rest a hand on Rei’s chest. “So don’t try to pretend otherwise.”

 

“…You’re troublesome for me, because when you say that, I absolutely do not want to let you leave,” Rei softly says, bending to kiss Shu’s lips. “If you must speak to him…please. Be safe. Even in the Shadowlands, in my care, he’s so dangerous.”

 

“I know.” Shu smiles softly, and kisses Rei back, slowly, luxuriously. “At least now you know that if pressed, I can always follow our bond to you. Gods speed you, find the king. He’s…a very good person who’s very lost. I know how it feels, to be lost in your own mind.”

 

“I know. And I know he is. That’s why I’ve gone out of my way to help him before.” Rei rocks back, needing to pull back lest he end up tangled around Shu again. “Do you want a path lit for you, love? The Shadowlands can be a bit…troublesome, at first.”

 

Shu shakes his head. “Izumi has told me plenty about how a mortal wizard can navigate these border areas. And honestly, his instruction is far better in that sense than yours would be. No need to alert the entire country that I’m on my way, my love.”

 

“Forgive me, I’m unfortunately overly worried about you because I do not want to let you out of my sight ever again,” Rei cheerfully says, reaching over to tug on a strand of Shu’s hair. “Well, at least I marked you up properly first.”

 

“Exactly.” Shu smiles, and steps carefully out of Rei’s reach. “Besides, you marked me up inside, as well. I’ll carry that with me, even if no one can see it.”

 

“…Stop talking, or I’ll have you again _immediately._ ”

 

“Find the king, I’ll be your reward,” Shu promises, and gives one imperious nod, followed by a brief, almost-invisible wink before he leaves the cottage.

 


	44. Chapter 44

 

The only good thing about traveling away from Rei, as far as Shu is concerned, is that at his destination, Mika is there.

 

The trip to the half-destroyed castle in the Shadowlands doesn’t take long, not on the fast demon horse that Rei lends Shu. The miles seem to fly by, giving him little chance to overthink what he’s doing, to realize just how bad of an idea this is, to stop himself and run back to Rei and throw himself into those strong, lean arms.

 

But at least the second he rides up, he feels the tug of Mika inside, making his lips twitch into a smile as he dismounts, turning the horse loose into the paddock and approaching the crumbling front door, ignoring the enormous holes in the wall that he could easily have walked through. Decorum must be observed, after all.

 

Shu doesn’t have a chance to get any closer to it before it swings open without warning, and from it launches Mika, full force, directly into Shu.

 

“ _Master!_ ” He probably shouldn’t be this loud, but that seems like a secondary thing, when he can plaster himself into Shu’s chest, hands buried into his cloak, face rubbing down into his shoulder. “I didn’t think y’come here, of all places—I was gonna come back an’ get ya, but then more stuff happened and I _couldn’t_ but now you’re here an’ that’s _good_ —“

 

“Hush, Mika, _hush_ ,” Shu murmurs, holding Mika fast, gentling him like a small animal. “You’re right. I’m here, and that’s good. And soon, we can all stay here, rather permanently. You’ll like that, of course you will.”

 

Mika’s arms firmly remain attached around Shu, arguably intent on squeezing the life out of him. “I was _worried_ ,” he insistently says, finally lifting his head, mussed hair and single, sightless blue eye making him look far more like a stressed bird than anything else. “It’s you, so you’re always so good, but I was still worried…is Rei here, too?”

 

“No, no. This is just a quick visit,” Shu assures him, tousling that messy hair, then immediately attempting to fix it, unable to resist the compulsion. “Ah, I should really do something about your eye while I’m here, I’m feeling quite fresh and creative, power-wise.”

 

Mika beams up at him, content to be fussed with. “You could. Or y’couldn’t, it’s all good. I can see stuff a lot better here, y’know? Th’ way magic works is all different, but I kinda like it…” 

 

“You’re feeling more of the world around you, you’re not seeing at all,” Shu says sternly. “That’s not the same thing.”

 

“Uhhh…okay! Whatever, it’s all right. I ain’t complainin’, but _kara_ says th’ missin’ eye freaks ‘im out a little, when I hide candy in it.”

 

“Mika, I told you, it’s not good hygiene to use your socket as a pocket.”

 

“Eh, I clean it out. It’s good.”

 

“I’ve seen you ‘clean it out,’ and I’m telling you, your efforts are not enough.”

 

“Whatever,” Mika lightly says. “It’s not a permanent storage place or anything’. Nnh, Master, if this is only a temporary visit—what’re you doin’ here, then?”

 

“I’m here to speak to your prisoner. Be a good lad and take me to him.” Perhaps if he acts as though this is merely fine and easy, Mika will treat it the same way.

 

Mika immediately pauses at that, his face twisting up in suspicion. “I dunno about that, Master…he just started to _kinda_ calm down…”

 

Shu blinks. “Don’t be silly. I don’t care what he thinks.”

 

“Uhhh, I mean, same, but I don’t wanna deal with him fuckin’ with my magic again,” Mika complains. “It hurts. He _bites_.”

 

Shu smiles, and cups Mika’s face. “But you can handle it, can’t you? This is important. Good child.”

 

“Of course I can _handle_ it,” Mika grumps, setting his chin neatly into Shu’s grasp to stare up at him. “But I don’t wanna mess up an’ him bite _you_ instead. He’s mean like that.”

 

“You won’t.” Shu leans in, and presses a brief kiss against Mika’s cheek. “You never let me down. And I can feel how powerful you are, here. It’s quite impressive. Where can I find him?”

 

Mika wallows in the praise, allowing himself that much before he reaches out, curling a painted finger to bring to life a single strand of red magic that looks suspiciously like yarn. In the distance, it turns to a web in the darkness, glowing ominously. “That way,” he simply says. “The ‘dungeon’…it’s more just like a big ole cage, wherever we wanna stick ‘em. It’s dark. Be careful, Master.”

 

“I’ll watch my step,” Shu assures him, slightly amused. “Don’t worry, I’m equipped to do so. Thank you.”

 

He follows the light, cloak billowing behind him, down the odd, winding steps that lead down into the darkness. It is appropriately atmospheric, at least, he thinks to himself, and conjures a small pink mage-light to guide his steps, until the red web spreads out suddenly in front of him, and his feet come to a pause. “So, you’ve finally fallen this far,” he says, voice low and strong, anger heating his tone, kept under control only by the barest margin. “May I say, from the bottom of my heart, that it’s good to see you like this, Eichi.”

 

Eichi, still bloody from his battles, his own cloak stained and tattered where it lays about his shoulders and his decidedly only half-healed arm, lifts his head at the sound of Shu’s voice, his eyes glowing that strange, piercing blue from underneath the lank drape of his hair.

 

“…Forgive me if I’m distrustful of such a pleasant sight,” Eichi says after a moment’s contemplation, slowly sitting up where he rests. Each movement brings to light the red webbing wrapped about each wrist and ankle like chains. “If you’re actually Rei, go fuck yourself, bitch. If you really are Shu…hello, don’t you look lovely.”

 

Shu pauses to contemplate that for a moment, then spits in Eichi’s face. “I’m not Rei,” he says, adjusting his riding gloves.

 

Eichi’s eyes shut for a moment, his power suddenly rising, stretching, making his bindings shiver and creak, and he inhales deeply before lifting a hand to wipe his face with taloned fingers. “Thank goodness,” he breathes, opening his eyes as he licks his fingers clean. “I’ve had enough of that slut. You, on the other hand, I’ll talk to all day.”

 

“Why?” Shu demands sharply. “Explain yourself. I’m the only person who still wants to talk to you, so you might as well take this chance.”

 

“Because I like you. Do I need more of a reason?”

 

“You do, because you don’t like me,” Shu says, nose high in the air. “You made my life miserable.”

 

“Only because you wouldn’t pay attention to me. I think that’s fair. Ahh, you’re so charming when you stand like that.”

 

Shu exhales slowly through his nose, eyes narrowed to slits. “You know you have no leverage left, don’t you?” he asks finally. “Everyone who was willing to give you chances, everyone who liked you…they’ve all abandoned you. I want to see the look in your eyes when you _know_ that.”

 

Eichi shrugs a shoulder slowly. “And yet, as always,” he says, “your mate teamed up with me at the last minute. Did he tell you that? How he charmed my sword away from another demon for me, and handed it to me without protest? It’s funny, how suddenly I’m a necessary ally in times like that.”

 

Shu purses his lips. “He didn’t tell me,” he says, because he hasn’t been alive only five minutes, and there’s nothing that Eichi likes more than thinking there’s division in the ranks. “He told me he kissed you, though.”

 

“Ah. Did he?” Eichi’s lips curl slowly into a smile. “And I’m sure he told you he hated it. Don’t listen to him.”

 

“You think he could lie to me? Ah, that’s right,” Shu says, as if just remembering something. “I forgot. You lie to your bonded all the time. That’s all you do, isn’t it?”

 

“What a strange assumption. No, I don’t lie to him all the time. I only lie when I need to protect him.” Eichi’s eyebrows raise. “I know, shocking, that I actually want to do that.”

 

“I feel so sorry for him.” Shu’s words are bitter, but honest. “For being bonded to you, obviously, but also..for thinking that you could ever be the sort of person he could be proud to be with, the sort of person that could be reasoned with. What a disappointment you are.”

 

“Are you trying to rile me?” Eichi asks, his voice low and even. “Try harder. I know what I did. I’d do it again, if I thought it would keep him safe.”

 

“It didn’t,” Shu snaps. “It didn’t, and you nearly killed one of the very good friends I have in this world. And it still didn’t work. The prince was born. And no one knows where the king is. And…” Shu swallows hard, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles are white. “And if you want to save him…you should think about being a little easier to deal with for me, personally.”

 

“You’re the one that showed up to taunt me,” Eichi blithely replies, his eyes glittering as he watches Shu with the kind of stare a cat gives to a fluttering bird before pouncing. “I’ve already made my apologies to Izumi. I do regret that, but at the end of the day…if I had to do it again, I would. Leo’s my mate. I want him safe, more than _you_ do, I assure you. I was ready to toss the remains of this shitty soul of mine back to him, if my killing the drude had gone awry.”

 

“And now?” Shu asks, one eyebrow raised, trying with every bit of his might not to tense and shudder under that stare. _Never look away from a predator,_ he reminds himself. “What will you do to keep him safe now? I didn’t come here to taunt you. That is, I am absolutely enjoying that part, but that’s not why I’m here, no matter what I told Rei.”

 

“Now? While I’m stuck here?” Eichi leans forward a bit, his hands on his knees. “Not die, of course. I don’t see you releasing me and letting me track him down myself, s~o…here we are, at an impasse.” He smiles again. “It’s so _cute_ that you think you can fool me. You tell Rei everything, you can’t help it.”

 

“I’m only here,” Shu says, as patiently as he can, “because you did the one thing that drives every Nightcloak past the point of sanity, you mongrel. You hurt the one child that _all_ of us will die, or kill, to protect.”

 

“Ahhh. There it is. I was wondering when you’d bring that up.”

 

A hiss escapes Shu’s mouth. “At least sound repentant! Bastard!”

 

“Why? It didn’t work to take his powers, I can tell you that much. If you want to yell at someone, it was the drude that _really_ was quite nasty, but—ah, he’s dead already, so I suppose I’m your last option…”

 

“And because you did that, I want to kill you.” Shu swallows bile. “But I won’t. But Rei…he wants to. And because of what you did, I have no ground to stand on to ask him not to.”

 

“You’re a little weak for real war, aren’t you?” Eichi asks, his head cocking to the side. “Back in my time—this is all par for the course, especially if there’s a prophet running around. Rei has no stomach for it either, of course. Though…I do wonder, exactly, why it didn’t _work._ I can assure you, prophets usually hand their skills over _quite_ readily.”

 

“Why it didn’t _work?_ ” Shu asks, disgusted. “As what, a war tactic to shut him up?”

 

“Ehh…no, no, fucking a prophet’s the way to have their visions as your own. It’s a temporary thing, usually, unless you take them properly to wife, but I’ve usually deliberately missed that boat.”

 

“Maybe your…potency has decreased,” Shu suggests, rather delicately.

 

Eichi offers him a sweet smile. “Doubt that. If you don’t believe me, you could always ask the little whore.”

 

“…Never mind. Rei is right, we should just kill you and say you died by accident,” Shu says tiredly, turning away to leave. “The country will be fine without the king.”

 

“ _That’s_ what makes you turn away? Not me licking your spit off my fingers? Come now, Shu, we were having a good conversation,” Eichi sighs, stretching out his legs in spite of how that pulls and tugs on the strings of magic binding them. He barely seems fazed by it, his face unchanging. “You’re here _for_ something. What is it? I’m usually fairly amicable to requests. Do you want me to reel the king back in, is that it?”

 

“I want you to leave.” Shu’s words are cold, brittle. “I want you to leave the human realm forever. I want you to lock down your bond, throttle it to the barest thread, and let that boy live his life with the man he really loves, not dragging him along through your eternities as a hapless, helpless sack of meat you can’t afford to let die.”

 

“I can’t do that.” Eichi’s voice is suddenly weary. “Honestly. I can’t. I thought the bond would have been done with when I was cast back down here…but nope, it wasn’t. So I came back, because the other option hurt him too much.” His eyes slide sideways, fixing on Shu’s face. “That’s how it is.”

 

“You’ve never cared about hurting him before,” Shu spits. “You don’t care if you drive him insane with grief.”

 

“Don’t _tell me_ how I feel or have felt,” Eichi snarls back suddenly, lunging against what binds him until he’s on his feet, only a stride from Shu. “I’m telling you how it is. I saved that child from the drude for him—do you think I _wanted_ to fucking deal with that thing? I could’ve sat back and let it do whatever it fucking wanted and reaped the benefits. I wanted that shit to end from the start; having those two here with the drude was _never_ my intention, idiot.”

 

“You _tried to kill his husband and baby!_ ” Shu’s voice cracks like a whip, and he draws himself up to his full height, eyes blazing with violet fire as he stares Eichi down, not giving an inch. “Nothing, _nothing_ you do will ever erase that! You’ve gotten by in the past by playing the hero when it suits you, waiting for a crisis big enough that humans will forgive any past discretion for your assistance, haven’t you? Well, this time, it _isn’t coming_. Rei won’t let it. He’d rather just kill you now. And seeing what’s left of you…I can’t say he’s wrong. Maybe that drude really did drink you dry.”

 

“And _you_ ,” Eichi says after a short pause, unmoving, unbreathing, “came all the way down here, just to tell me to _go away._ ”

 

“…Maybe.”

 

“When you yell at me, it makes me want to _eat you._ ” For such an ominous sentence, it comes out as a compliment, low and hungry. “Maybe if _you_ had been my bonded, I would’ve turned out a bit more decently.”

 

Shu licks his lips, holding Eichi’s gaze. “I wish we had been bonded,” he says suddenly.

 

“Oh?” Eichi’s eyes lid, but he doesn’t blink. “That’s a dangerous statement from the supposed Demon Queen.”

 

“It would have made everything so simple,” Shu explains. “I could have just slit my own throat years ago and saved everyone so much trouble.”

 

Eichi breathes in slowly through his nose. “You make me _so_ hard, I hope you know.”

 

“Since you never, ever stop telling me? Yes, I’m aware of that disgusting fact.”

 

“The more you insult me, the better it is. But go on, let’s continue on that thought, about how _fun_ it would’ve been if we were bonded.” Eichi’s lips twitch. “You can talk about suicide all you want. Bonds tend to make a person _much_ more affectionate.”

 

“Really? It just seems to make you do stupid things,” Shu says, keeping his tone idle. “I heard you used to be a paladin. It baffles me that you could, at one point, have been useful.”

 

“I’m still useful. I’m still a paladin, if the mood suits me. I’d show you, but Kaoru seems to be in possession of my sword…I just can’t keep hold of that thing these days.”

 

Shu raises an eyebrow, and flicks his gaze down. “As I said. Potency issues.”

 

“The more you insult me, the more it makes me want you,” Eichi hums, leaning forward a bit more. “Once upon a time, I thought we could have something. When you first came into the Academy, all young and eager and so _obnoxious_. It was truly adorable.”

 

“You worked me to the bone when I was thirteen,” Shu says quietly. “You humiliated me in front of all my teachers.”

 

“And you learned quite a bit from it, didn’t you. Do you think you’d be as skilled now if that hadn’t happened?”

 

“Was that your plan? Or did you just get hard, watching me suffer?”

 

“…Both,” Eichi says after a moment’s consideration. “You were, more or less, perfect. I wanted to keep you. But then—you decided that you wanted that silly little crow’s attentions more than mine. Dreadful, really.”

 

“…Do you realize,” Shu says thoughtfully, “that most of the people I know who hate you, do it because you murdered, or attempted to murder, someone they’re close to? You would have so many more friends if you just stopped doing that.”

 

“I don’t know, Izumi forgave me fairly quickly. He’s the only one with sense around here, it seems.”

 

“But the king won’t. He disappeared because of what you did to Izumi. And even if Izumi did… _I don’t._ ”

 

“You’re speaking an awful lot for the king when he isn’t here. Isn’t that treasonous, in a way?”

 

“I’m the only one here trying to keep the king _alive_ , besides Izumi,” Shu says, voice nearly a snarl. “Do you realize how angry you have to make everyone before they’d rather risk civil war and a terrible king than have you around even one second longer?”

 

“I saved you all. Scold me all you want, scold my methods all you want, but you’re ignoring that fact so readily that it’s pathetic,” Eichi sighs, turning away to go take a seat again. “And if Rei thinks he can reason with Nagisa and Hiyori, he’s an idiot.”

 

“Rei says they’re easy, and all they want is a place to be useful,” Shu says mildly, taking this as a win. “My lord is smarter than you think.”

 

“Wrong. On the former, the latter is about right. But I’m no longer interested in volunteering information that you _clearly_ don’t need.”

 

Shu sighs. “I wanted to find a way to keep from hurting the king. But you’re not providing me any solutions, so I’ll just let Rei do as he will. You deserve it, for what you did to Natsume. Goodbye, bastard.”

 

“You never asked me for any solutions—you only berated me,” Eichi airily replies, waving a hand. “But goodbye, if that’s what you want. You’ll never find him, without me.”

 

“Then he’ll die, now that your spell has worn off. And so will you.”

 

“Or he’ll find his way back to me.” Eichi’s eyes slide back towards Shu. “Just like you always find your way back to Rei. Or am I mistaken about that, too?”

 

 _Damn_. Shu tries not to let that show on his face, and knows he’s done a bad job. He folds his arms over his chest, and taps one toe. “Well, then?” he asks archly. “Have you got any solutions? No one else is going to listen to you, you know. Take advantage of my being here.”

 

“I’d love to take advantage of you. Come sit with me, and maybe we can come to an agreement.”

 

“I’ll stand, thank you. Though…if you’re inclined to be forthcoming, I could perhaps manage a cup of tea.”

 

“Damn, not even a flinch? Ah, I _would_ love a cup of tea,” Eichi sweetly says. “I’ve never had such a terrible hero’s welcome in my life.”

 

“It isn’t my house, yet, so I can hardly say you’re a guest.” Shu summons the tea with hardly an effort of will, his magic tapping almost seamlessly into the local sources. Of course, Mika’s been here—along with Rei’s lingering presence, that’s nearly as good as if Shu had cultivated the power himself. He hands it over with a flourish, leaning back against the wall. “You slew one creature that wouldn’t have been here without your interference anyway, and killed several good people in the course of doing it. How are you a hero, exactly?”

 

Eichi takes the cup of tea politely, watching Shu as he takes a slow sip. “You’ve got it all wrong,” he mildly says, lowering the teacup. “I had no idea Nagisa had that drude attached, when I asked for his assistance. I never would have asked for his help had I known.”

 

“But you didn’t exactly trip over yourself to stop it, or to close the Sorrow’s Gate immediately,” Shu points out. “It butchered almost all the men of the North months ago, an you knew what it was, you could have alerted the paladins. Again, waiting until the last moment to solve a problem that happened because of you is hardly heroism.”

 

“I wasn’t fully within this realm when it butchered the North. I could do nothing about it, and I didn’t even know it was here until _I_ was fully here. By then, everyone knew—and they certainly didn’t alert the paladins either, did they?” Eichi asks, taking another slow sip of his tea, eyes briefly closing in pleasure. “Mm, you _do_ make a good cup of tea.”

 

“Yes, I do.” Shu watches for another moment, irritated, before summoning himself a cup, sipping in annoyance. “You’re still to blame. But none of that comes close to what I asked for. A solution.”

 

“A solution to…which part, exactly? Finding the king? Set me loose, I’ll find him. Getting rid of Nagisa and Hiyori? Bind them in this realm through blood pacts to make them behave, or let me throw their bodies back through the Sorrow’s Gate before sealing it.”

 

“A solution,” Shu says carefully, “to what we do with you. Unless you’d like to rot down here until we find somewhere more secure to stash you forever.” He sips. “Rei will probably let me keep you, if you’re gelded first.”

 

“Awww. How cute. It’ll all grow back, sorry. Wouldn’t be the first time he’s tried that.”

 

“You mean I get to keep cutting them off? Excellent, I’ll push for that one. Now your task is to find a solution that I like better than that.”

 

“Technically, I’m still the king’s dog. He can do as he likes with me and I’ll accept that…unless you can give me a reason why I should be sweet to you.”

 

Shu manages a smile, though it’s rather sharper than the answering one. “We just won’t tell him where you are. We’ll leave you, shielded in a dungeon, until he dies of old age. I like that plan, personally. You don’t have telepathy with him, I know, he’s always been quite sad about that. Shame.”

 

“Nice try,” Eichi softly says, taking another sip of his tea. “Even the Depths couldn’t shield our _broken_ bond. Is Rei going to thrall him again?”

 

“Maybe he will. Wataru is gone.” Shu’s voice is hollow now, and pain twists his mouth. “Something else I blame you for.”

 

“You blame _me_ for that?” Eichi’s temper frays abruptly, half-full cup tossed at Shu’s feet. “That whore prophet is to blame entirely. I did _nothing_. I didn’t ask for a bond that made me look away, and I didn’t ask to be _replaced_ by a slut that hurt him more than I ever did!”

 

“If you say _one more word_ against Natsume, I will kill you now!” Shu’s voice lashes out like a whip, and power flares incandescently bright in the darkness. “It was your fault—it’s _all_ your fault, he was only in that hidden area because of you! And you hurt him, you _hurt_ him, that innocent, perfect boy!”

 

“…You want my advice?” Eichi lowly asks, unfazed by the display of power. “Leo won’t come back with you all looking for him. He doesn’t give a shit. He cares about Izumi, and he _thinks_ he cares about me. But Izumi can’t find him, and I might be able to. If you want the king, you need me. That’s all there is to it.”

 

“Then we’ll go to our other plan. As much as it pains me, I’m starting to think it might be the only way,” Shu says, only barely managing to make regular words instead of hissing in anger. “The king has a spouse, and an heir. The realm will survive with a regent.”

 

He stands, then pauses. “Oh. And your turncoat wizard is currently enjoying our hospitality as well. Thought you might want to know.”

 

Eichi’s eyebrows tick upward. “My turncoat wizard?”

 

“Tori. Though I understand he isn’t precisely happy.”

 

“And why would that be?”

 

“I understand that losing one’s prestige, wealth, and family status will do that to a person,” Shu says mildly, vanishing his teacup as he straightens his cloak. “He did turn against the realm, after all. A wizard who doesn’t follow the Emperor has no place in the Academy. You wrote those rules, Rei is simply following them.”

 

Calmly, Eichi stands, rips straight through both bindings on his legs with a sharp stride forward, and through one hand, which he uses to snatch Shu over by the throat, talons sharply pressing in. “I _will_ fucking kill you, even though I find you _most_ agreeable,” he lowly says. “If you or yours cause harm to that little brat.”

 

He throws Shu back onto the ground, looming over him. “Tell Rei to go fuck himself, or I’ll finish what I started in the West years ago with him. He’ll know what that means.”

 

In a brief, panicked moment, Shu does the only thing he can think of, the only thing his sudden terror will let him do, and vanishes, fleeing along the bond, streaking through nonbeing, horrible, violent, bone-chilling _nothingness_ until he slams physically into Rei, gasping in the light and warmth, his bones shaking, muscles refusing to hold him up as he collapses on the floor at his feet, wheezing for air, tears streaking his face.

 

“Shu! Shu, fuck, what happened? Breathe, take a deep breath, come on now—“

 

Rei crouches next to him, hands on Shu’s shoulders, wide, concerned eyes seeking his own. “ _Breathe_ ,” he whispers again, squeezing firmly as he stretches his magic out around him, blanketing him in the best way he knows how. “What did he do? I _knew_ this was a bad idea, I should’ve put my foot down…”

 

“He’s not safe up there,” Shu gasps, eyes wide, the whites showing all around them as he grabs for Rei, clinging to them. “He—he can break the bindings any time he wants, he…” He rubs his neck, and the pinpricks of blood beading there. “Mika, you have to—Rei, please, it’s not safe—I thought he was going to—h-he said he’ll finish what he started in the West with you years ago…”

 

Rei grabs Shu’s face in both of his hands, forcing him to look at him. “Calm down, love. Do it, because I’m telling you to.”

 

Shu stares for a moment, and then his breath stills, his heart rate easing suddenly, as if a hand had squeezed his chest. “Ah,” he breathes, nodding slowly. “Ah.”

 

“Good. Good boy,” Rei gently says, sliding his hands up to stroke Shu’s hair, further calming him. “Start at the beginning. Are you all right? Did he hurt you?” He drops a hand to tilt Shu’s chin up, the slight furrow of his brow just the tip of the iceberg in terms of anger that he allows to show. “Aside from that.”

 

“Just that,” Shu says, shaking his head. “I went…I talked to him. I told him to solve my problem, to think of a solution to…well, him, to keep us from killing him. He didn’t care, he didn’t care about any of it, until I told him that…that we had Himemiya. Then he snapped his bonds immediately and grabbed me.”

 

“…Interesting.” Rei frowns, contemplative, as he keeps stroking Shu’s hair. “I didn’t think he cared _that_ much about him. Ah, I’m going to need to send Ritsu back sooner, if he snapped through Mika’s bindings that easily,” he mutters. “Or we can dangle the Himemiya boy underneath his nose a bit more. Threatening him probably will have ill-effects, though…”

 

“At least…” Shu swallows, and now that he has his bearings better around him, starts to feel a bit more clarity. “At least we know something that will affect him. He acted more concerned about Himemiya than about the king, by _far_. Rei, send Ritsu up now. It’s not safe.”

 

_Ritsu. Go help Mika out, would you? Eichi is acting up, apparently._

 

“Done.” Rei exhales, rocking back and gathering Shu more firmly into his arms. “Did you tell him we were hurting Tori or something along those lines? I haven’t even looked sideways at the child since this all began, honestly…”

 

Shu sighs, and rubs at the bridge of his nose. “I may have hinted that he had been expelled from the Academy.”

 

“Ah. Yes, that would do the trick.”

 

“I mean, he _should_ be.”

 

“I’m not disagreeing. It was just low on my priority list, all things considered.” Rei grimaces. “Now I might have to posture a bit. ‘Finish what he started in the West’—how tasteless…”

 

“What does it mean?” Shu asks, tucking his fallen hair behind his ears. “And—and did you find the king? Where are we?”

 

“Oh. No idea.” Rei gestures broadly. “Somewhere deep within the Western mountains, I thought it might be a nice place to start. Koga’s nose thought so, too. Anyway, as with all things about Eichi, he’s being gross. He’s absolutely referring to the time I refused to fuck him in the West before we closed the Sorrow’s Gate the _first_ time.”

 

Shu’s mouth twists with distaste. “I hate him so much. Please send Ritsu up to seal him, I can’t relax thinking about him able to walk out and do things to Mika.”

 

“I literally already touched his mind, love,” Rei gently says. “Mika isn’t alone in the meantime, Arashi is there. Cupcake is there. Eichi _is_ still weak, or else he would’ve left already.”

 

“Like it was nothing,” Shu whispers. “Just walked through them. What did you do with Himemiya, by the way? We should put some kind of security on him.”

 

“He’s sulking in his wizard tower, with a very moody paladin. He dislikes the cold, you see,” Rei deadpans. “So he had no inclination to leave. Shu…” He gently cups Shu’s chin again. “You _know_ how strong Eichi is, love. He’s sitting there nicely because it’s a game to him. You _know_ he’s like that…or maybe you haven’t ever truly seen him be like that, but…I have. He does that all the time.”

 

Shu looks back at him, unable to erase the worry from his face. “You told me it would be fine,” he says quietly. “You said your wards and Mika’s would hold him. It hurts Mika, he told me. Don’t lie to me about his safety again.”

 

“…To be fair,” Rei lowly says. “I didn’t think you were going to taunt him, and lie to him about my own undertakings. That was _not_ what I agreed to.”

 

“…That…is fair, I suppose,” Shu says, though he sounds rather unhappy about it. “Though, you know how I hate him. You should have expected me to taunt him. After what he did to Natsume…I almost lost my temper entirely,” he admits. “I almost killed him, or tried to.”

 

“I expected that within reason—and I’m sure he did as well, which is why I knew he’d behave himself, if he got to look at you while you spat on his face. He probably would’ve let you kill him, or come close,” Rei wearily says. “Gods know I’ve snapped his neck a few times; he gets off on it. Ah, I don’t want to bicker about this. I’ve asked Ritsu, he’ll handle what he can. How were we supposed to know the _Himemiya boy_ would be what set him off so?”

 

Shu shakes his head, still quelling the little urgent, nervous tremors shooting through him. “I thought…I tried to set him off, in a controlled way, to see, you know. To see the extent that he was being held captive by his own desires, or rather, lack thereof to escape. I pushed him, with you, with me, with the king, with whatever I thought would get under his skin. The Himemiya boy…that was an accident, I wasn’t prepared.”

 

“I know, love. Relax, we’ll figure this out,” Rei exhales, running his hands down Shu’s arms, giving him a gentle squeeze as he looks over his own shoulder into the distance, as if seeing something deep within the snowy hills. “Eichi’s…very good at hiding what he loves the most. Or rather—he only knows how to hide his love for certain people. I think he cares far more about Leo than he would like to admit, but he can’t figure any part of that out right now. For the Himemiya boy…and for certain others, his emotions are far more…volatile.”

 

Shu listens, then pauses, head tilting slightly. “Why do you sound so smug? Why are we in these mountains, anyway? Did you get a lead on the king?”

 

“Ahhh…something like that…” Rei’s expression turns wry. “I thought about it, and then I realized I could kill two birds with one stone. I didn’t expect you to show up here, of course, so…you might not like the company I’m about to keep.”

 

“…It’s Keito, isn’t it?”

 

“You’re so clever.”

 

“I just can’t think of anyone else that you would go to for help while knowing I despise them.”

 

“I _do_ wish you and Natsume would be kinder to him; he’s trying his best,” Rei sighs, giving Shu’s shoulders a last squeeze before releasing him. “I needed to speak with him about Mao…and I thought maybe, just maybe…this would be the sort of place Leo would turn up. He’s just stupid enough to think that hiding in plain sight is a good idea with Eichi—and he’s right, of course.”

 

“…Eichi is much stupider than everyone gives him credit for,” Shu says slowly, nodding. “Especially himself. Very well, have you been and gone yet, or are we about to go in?”

 

“We’re about to go in. And you,” Rei sternly says, “ _will_ be pleasant.”

 

“Oh, I will not,” Shu says, blinking. “I’d quite honestly rather wait outside in the snow than be forced to be pleasant to him. Have you forgotten all the things he’s done? How convenient.”

 

“You will not wait in the snow. This might take awhile. And you’ve pissed off the eldritch abomination we have in flimsy chains in the Shadowlands, so you’re not allowed out of my sight.”

 

Shu huffs. “That would serve me right, to be abducted in such an absolutely ludicrous way. And it would serve you right if I were, for being foolish and thinking Keito could possibly be worthy of your good graces after everything he’s done.”

 

Rei stares back at him for a moment, inhales slowly, then simply grabs Shu around the waist, throws him over his shoulder, and starts back through the snow. “Koga?”

 

The edges of the forest rustle. “Yeah?”

 

“Go ahead and make sure Keito knows I’m about to arrive on his doorstep. Be kind and don’t startle him _too_ badly.”

 

There’s a snort of breath, and then the sound of the ground shifting beneath rather large paws.

 

“Rei! You brute! Put me down, I’m not a sack of grain! Koga, don’t do what he says, I made you little booties for your paws!”

 

“You’re far lighter than a sack of grain,” Rei cheerfully says, trudging on through the snow. “You should eat more. Though you certainly aren’t lacking here—“ A solid smack to Shu’s ass follows.

 

“And you are being extremely optimistic if you think I’ll let you touch me there after pulling this!” Shu squeaks. “Unhand me, brigand!”

 

“And yet, I _just_ touched you there. Incredible, it’s like you think I’m…dare I say it— _extremely_ attractive? Especially when I manhandle you?”

 

A few more paces, and Rei pauses, reaching up to touch a seemingly invisible nothing that then materializes beneath his fingers—an intricate ‘fence’ of sorts, wrapped about the property beyond. Only after touching it does the cottage appear, smoke trailing from the chimney with candlelight glowing in the windows. “And here we are.” He strides up to the front porch, pausing and tilting his head. “Should I let you on your feet? Koga does love the booties, by the way.”

 

“Let me on my feet, I will not forgive you if you embarrass me like this in front of that idiot!” Shu protests, wriggling until he’s finally on his feet again, huffing and red-faced. “If he likes them so much, why isn’t he wearing them?”

 

The door opens, and Keito appears, looking drawn and wary, holding a glowing stone. “Rei? Koga said you’d be coming. He’s by the fire getting his tummy rubbed.”

 

“Because he’s by the fire getting his tummy rubbed,” Rei tells Shu with a smile, completely unconcerned with Shu’s theatrics. “Hello, Keito. Might we come in? I have a few things to talk to you about, if that’s all right.”

 

Keito flicks a glance at Shu, who draws himself up straight and looks away, nose in the air. “Sure, come bring down the cozy atmosphere. I don’t suppose…” His voice is wistful as he peers around Rei into the darkness, then his shoulders droop, seeing no one else there. “Well, sure, come in. There’s stew. It’s not very good, but it’s hot.”

 

“Thank you, but I think I’ll skip that,” Rei says with a laugh, sliding a hand to Shu’s lower back to urge him inside. “I see you looking, Keito. That’s part of what I’m here to discuss with you…but, I don’t suppose…” He trails off, an unintentional echo of Keito’s own pause before. “Hmm. Well, we’ll get to that. Go sit by the fire, love, you’re chilly.”

 

“I’m not cold,” Shu snaps, but musters up all the graciousness he has, giving Keito a jerky nod. “Hello,” he grinds out, making the mild pleasantry sound like a curse. “Thank you for opening your home.”

 

Keito opens his mouth, ready to retort based on tone alone, then pauses. “Oh. Fine. Welcome, sure. You can take the spot by the fire, I think…Rei, maybe we could take a walk.”

 

Rei calmly pushes Shu over to the fire, sets him down next to Koga, and turns to Keito with a smile. “We can do that. I’d much prefer talking in the warmth, though, as I think you would.”

 

Keito’s lips purse as Shu sits. “I’m fine with being in here, but there are…certain things I won’t discuss in any company. So my half of the conversation may be limited.”

 

“You’re both very troublesome. Ah, well—fine, Shu, stay here, we’ll be back in a moment. Keito needs to scold me, I can tell.”

 

Keito blinks. “I do?”

 

“You will. I’m sure of it. It’s about Mao.”

 

Keito abruptly strides for the door, holding it open. “Out, now. If you’ve done something to him, or let something happen—“

 

“Nothing more than the usual, I assure you,” Rei says with a smile, striding out with a flutter of his hand. “But it’s about to be a more interesting situation, and I would like your input.”

 

Keito exhales, sagging over and bracing himself on his knees. “Don’t scare me like that, I thought he was dead.”

 

“Oh, gods no. Do you think I’d show up like this if he was dead? I’d kill myself, I love that boy.”

 

“You use him, and you make his life hell,” Keito says wearily. “But yes, I know you love him. Go on.”

 

“So that thrall I have upon him.”

 

Rei closes the front door shut. folding his arms across his chest as he stares out across the snowy landscape. “I’m going to take it off,” he says after a moment. “But when I do, you need to be aware of what is going to happen.”

 

Keito sucks in a breath, and leans back against the rickety wooden railing on his stairs. “I’ve never seen a thrall taken off before,” he says slowly. “Except for the king, and that…well, it wasn’t for as long. I assume it’s like when you get a cast off, and you’re unbalanced because you’ve overcompensated? But in his soul, somehow?”

 

“I’m not sure,” Rei admits, his fingers slowly drumming against his arms. “I don’t know how it will affect him. Obviously, I will do everything I can to make coming down from that thrall an easier, softer landing for him…but…” Rei hesitates again, the words sticking to his tongue. “There are a few things that are more pressing than that. When I take it off, Keito…he’ll bloom.”

 

Keito’s eyes widen, and he turns, suddenly kicking the railing with explosive anger. “He—he could have been a wizard?” he demands, snow shaking off of the railings. “He could have been important, not just an Enhanced? You kept that from him? Fucking why?”

 

“Because you know as well as I do that aberrant magic runs in families—and if he’s like his _sister_ was, that’s not going to do him any good,” Rei calmly says, watching Keito, not reacting. “I was trying to protect him. From Eichi.”

 

Keito scowls. “Apologize,” he snaps. “Do it.”

 

“I’m not sorry for protecting him.”

 

“I’m going to hit you.”

 

“That’s fine. That’s not the last thing; not only will he bloom, but he has a resonate bond.”

 

Keito goes still, and feels as if his bones have turned to soup. “…I’m going to be sick,” he says dully, and sits heavily on the stairs, head in hands. “And then I’m going to hit you some more. You let this happen. You knew.”

 

“Yes. To protect him. It’s you, Keito.” Rei sucks in a slow breath. “And you know…you _know_ what Eichi would’ve done.”

 

“Quit fucking with me,” Keito snaps. “Be serious. Who is it?”

 

“I _am_ serious. Why else would I tell you this?” Rei steps down the stairs to stand in front of him, leaning forward with the curtain of his hair framing around them both. “He’s _yours_ , Keito.”

 

Keito’s face rushes through a barrage of emotions, turning red, then gray, then green, then white. “Break it,” he says abruptly, voice quivering. “Can you break it while he’s thralled, so he never knows?”

 

“Yes. But I won’t, unless he agrees to that. The one time I broke a bond turned my stomach, and I don’t want to do it again.”

 

“I don’t give a shit about your stomach!” Keito snarls, heaving himself to his feet. “I’m old, Rei—if he’s a wizard, fuck, fuck, shit, he could be young for another century!”

 

“That’s not up for you to decide for him,” Rei mildly says. “Even I’m more in the right to have him thralled and shielded from this information, because at least I can do it under the guise of protecting him. Be happy, he’s _yours_ , you idiot.”

 

“I—how am I supposed to be happy about being a death sentence for the man I love?” Keito demands.

 

“…You’re not a death sentence,” Rei quietly says, reaching out to rest pale fingers against Keito’s cheek. “Even if you’re human and won’t live until eternity, do you really think he’d want that? He’s just as human as you are. When you die, he will, too, and then you’ll be together in another world…or another life? Ah, whatever it is. And lest you forget, you’re not dead yet.”

 

“I’m over fifty. He’s—gods, it’s one thing if he’s got a normal lifespan, but…I could be stealing a hundred, two hundred years from him!” Keito looks very much as if he’s about to be sick. “And you—“

 

Then he does turn, and punch Rei square in the mouth. He shakes out his hand, muttering, “Ow, ow, ow. It would be one thing if we’d had the last decade! Then he could have gotten some use out of me! My knees creak every time I go downstairs, for gods’ sake, and he’s not even thirty!”

 

Rei leans back, gingerly touching his lower lip, unconcerned that his fingertips come away wet with blood (but not that much). “Is your hand all right?” he mildly asks. “Keito—there’s an obvious solution to this. I don’t lift the thrall. He never knows, he never blooms, and you aren’t bonded, in the literal sense. I’m not willing to make that decision now, though; that would be on you.”

 

“My hand is fine,” Keito snaps, scowling as he shoves his hand down into his pocket, feeling it throb. “And—yes, you’re damned right, it’s on me. It should be on Mao, but you could lean on him so that he wouldn’t hate you, and you’d get him to say what you wanted, even if you didn’t mean to. So it’s on me.” He pauses. “Then why did you say you needed his permission to break the bond?”

 

“Because if he knows about it, I’m not touching it.” Rei heaves a sigh. “Keito, you _know_ I don’t lean on the thrall like that.”

 

“I know you don’t mean to, and you don’t want to,” Keito says wearily. “That doesn’t mean you aren’t doing it unconsciously. And you’d never know if you did. He’s told me about plenty of times he was upset and stressed and sick and didn’t know why until he realized you were having a bad time.”

 

“…Which is why I want it gone, if that is the case. And you can accept that you’re bonded to him and be happy about it, or tell him why you’re being a stubborn old man that wants it gone. Accept that you _can_ have a good thing for once in your life, Keito.”

 

“A good thing? After watching it ruin your life?” Keito asks, brows drawn together. “And the king, do you think he’d consider it a good thing? Just because I’m lucky enough that…that it’s Mao that I’m…”

 

He blinks, eyes watering for a moment, then turns and punches Rei in the mouth again. “That first one was for Mao, but this one is for you stealing ten years of my bond from me! And never telling me! Bastard! Eichi was dead eight years ago!”

 

“That,” Rei says, taking a step back and spitting blood this time, “is the first legitimate complaint you’ve had. And I have no rebuttal, and I _am_ sorry. Ah, that almost hurt, you’re getting stronger in your old age…”

 

“What the fuck?” Keito demands, truly incensed now, rounding on Rei, his hand aching. “Seriously? Before Eichi died, that’s one thing, I know how possessive he was about everyone he considered ‘his,’ but how can you possibly defend this? If someone took Shu from you for eight years—you—“

 

More realization dawns, angry and hurt, on his face. “You let me think he was bonded to Ritsu. You encouraged me to go around his back. You never trusted either of us with—gods, Rei, do you hate me, or just think I’m stupid?”

 

“None of the above. I…” Rei hesitates, holding up his hands in abject surrender. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know, honestly, until a few years ago. I knew Mao would probably bloom. I didn’t know he was bonded to you. I had no idea, until I spoke to him while touching Natsume one day, and I saw it. That’s the honest truth. But yes, I stole those years from you, and I’m sorry, but—you wouldn’t have acted any differently, and you know that. You would’ve been with him in the same way, living in your cottage together and being delightfully domestic.”

 

“Take the thrall off of him,” Keito says, before he can really process what he’s saying. “Bring him here, do it however gently you can. And—fuck what I said before, he’s had enough of people making decisions for him. And then, you…you get out of his life. He doesn’t spy for you anymore, he doesn’t do your bidding, you don’t throw him the worst and most dangerous jobs because you can’t trust anyone else, because you only trust people you’ve got over a barrel. You leave him alone.”

 

“If he’s a wizard,” Rei quietly says, “you know he can’t _stay_ here. I’m handing the Academy over and leaving, so it won’t be my thumb he’s under. And…in fact,” he exhales, glancing aside. “If he’s the kind of wizard I think he’ll be, when all is said and done—the Academy needs someone like him at the forefront, until Natsume is ready. I’m not going to force him into the role, but I am going to offer it to him, Keito. It’s the least I can do.”

 

“No,” Keito says, eyes blazing. “No, you make some special rule that applies only to him, and you and Natsume and whoever else leaves him the fuck alone. He’s done his fucking time! He’s served you and the Academy since he was a child, don’t you dare offer him anything but rest!”

 

“…Now who’s the one making decisions for him, exactly?”

 

“The one person who’s actually entitled to, I think!” Keito says, glaring. “His bonded! Ah, that’s going to take some getting used to…”

 

“How about,” Rei says, “you can discuss this all with him, and I’ll do my best to accommodate it? Right now, my main objective isn’t the Academy, it’s keeping you both _safe._ Eichi _will_ want him dead. I’m doing my best to handle that situation, which brings me to my next point—has Leo crossed paths with you?”

 

“Why?” Keito asks waspishly. “Do you need to tell him about things you’ve been keeping from him for his own good, too?” He sighs. “That…no, it was fair, and I’m not going to apologize. But that’s it, I’m done yelling for the moment. Bring Mao here.”

 

“Answer my question.”

 

“Why? Is it frustrating when people don’t tell you things?” Keito grinds out. “How inconvenient for you!”

 

“Koga caught his scent around here. If you like, I can dig through your cottage and find where you’ve hidden the little squirrel away.” Rei’s eyebrows raise. “He might like knowing that his heir was born, and that his husband is safe.”

 

“…Tell me you’re not lying about that part,” Keito warns. “If you’re doing that to flush him out, that’s cruel and we’re done.”

 

“Oh, fuck you, too,” Rei finally exasperatedly allows himself to say. “Keito, we were lovers once. You know me well, apparently well enough to tell me I don’t belong in the human realm—and you know what, I’ve taken that advice, and I’m _leaving_ , no matter how it pains me _._ But before I’m gone, I’m attempting to clean up the pieces of the shit _other_ people have done to ruin this world. I _like_ Leo. I have no intention of crushing him more than he’s already been crushed.”

 

Keito huffs, and gives Rei’s shoulder a shove, harder than he once would have. “I think I’m entitled to be bitter for a couple more minutes,” he mutters. “I swore I wouldn’t tell anyone, no matter who. I’m trying not to be an oathbreaker yet again, it’s harder than it sounds.”

 

“Yes, well,” Rei wearily says, barely swaying with the shove, “you still haven’t said shit, so your oaths are intact. My dog’s nose is just better than your oath. Shall I pretend to search your humble abode and find him myself, then?”

 

Keito’s mouth turns in a grimace. “I’m well aware that I can’t stop you,” he says cautiously. “But if you try to take him back to Eichi, I’ll try. That’s a warning, and a promise. I know you’ve worked with him before, and I don’t know how things are up in the North.”

 

“Do you want a quick briefing to understand _why_ I need to take Leo back?” Rei asks. “Because I’ll give it to you. You’ll probably still try to argue with me, but we’re at our wits end here—without the king, we have absolutely no power over Eichi. He just managed to spook the hell out of Shu again, in spite of my best efforts.” Rei leans forward, closer to Keito again. “Did you know? What he was? He told you, didn’t he.”

 

Keito frowns. “He’s told me a great many things,” he says warily. “Some of them more plausible than others, if I’m being quite frank. Which ones was I supposed to pay attention to?”

 

“The part where he’s a paladin.”

 

Keito snorts. “Ah. Yes, he did tell me that once, when the paladins wouldn’t give him license to burn their secret library. He started pouting and setting fire to things, muttering, “I’m a paladin, I’m _the_ paladin, I’m the best paladin, none of you are as good paladins as me!” Is that what you mean?”

 

“I mean the part where he _is_ actually a paladin, the start of the entire order, in fact, and we have the ancient paperwork to back it up, _apparently._ He killed the drude with his holy paladin sword. He was a literal fucking seraphim, Keito.”

 

Keito stares at him for a long moment, then shrugs. “I knew religion was a scam. I told my father, but did he believe me? No. If this is what gods are like, we’re better off without them.”

 

“I’m not disagreeing, but I _am_ thinking you’re missing the point of how dire this situation is. So I’m going to take the king, and I’m going to use him to get Eichi under control again, so help me.”

 

“…I don’t like the part where you say you’re going to use him,” Keito warns. “There’s been too much of that, by—“

 

“It’s fine, Keito,” comes a weary voice, and Leo crawls out the window at the back of the cottage, shivering in the snow in his thin clothes. “If Rei’s here, it means I can be more help by not hiding than by hiding. Good. Hi.”

 

Rei’s expression immediately softens, and he unhooks his own fur cloak from his shoulders to swing it about Leo and effectively make him drown in the length of it. “Hello, Leo,” he greets. “I’m glad to see you’re safe. Shall we talk? I can tell you good news, before we get to the unpleasant bits.”

 

“Izumi?” Leo asks, voice pathetically hopeful. “He can’t be dead, or you’d be looking much sadder, right?”

 

Keito sighs. “If you’re both going to be revealing things, you might as well come inside out of the cold.”

 

“Not cold anymore,” Leo assures him, burrowing gratefully down into the heavy cloak. “Gonna make a nest, as soon as I hear about Izumi.”

 

“He’s not dead,” Rei reassures him, waving a dismissive hand at Keito. “And neither is your son.”

 

Leo’s chin trembles, his eyes filling. “Can you…can you take me to them? Or, no.” His fists clench, and he firms his jaw, squaring up his shoulders. “First. What do I have to do to keep them safe? I’ll do anything.”

 

“We can do both,” Rei softly says, offering Leo his hand. “But Keito’s right. Let’s go sit by the fire and talk about this. The most immediate threat is gone, but…Eichi is still…present.”

 

“I figured, since I’m still here.” Leo shivers. “For better or worse. I felt the thing leave, I get cold again and…I can get hurt again.” He holds out his hand, showing a few long red marks.

 

Keito shoves the king towards the door, and Leo walks obediently, feet gingerly picking through the snow. “Honestly, how did you make it to this age without putting on boots when you go out in the snow? What did you expect?”

 

“I like being cold. It reminds me of Izumi.”

 

Rei promptly hoists Leo up onto the porch for the last few steps, not hearing any complaints about it. “I promise I’ll take you to him,” Rei reassures him. “But, first things first…”

 

He opens the door to the cottage, a hand on Leo’s back steering him inside. Koga, on his side by the fire, lifts his head, snorts once, then flops back down. “Found him,” Rei cheerfully says to Shu. “Come now, Your Majesty. I know you like the cold, but we can’t have your hands and feet falling off.”

 

“That could be kind of cool. They could call me The Stump King!”

 

“That would not be cool,” Shu informs him, and reaches out, briskly rubbing Leo’s feet between his hands. “You’d better appreciate this, it’s not something I would normally do.”

 

“Wow! I feel like a king!”

 

“Did your brain freeze, too?”

 

“Probably!”

 

“Make sure to thank my queen for this— _I_ never even get foot rubs,” Rei dramatically sighs, collapsing down onto the floor, legs folded to the side. “Your mate has been wrecking havoc in his own special way, Leo,” he mildly says. “For every helpful thing he does, he still manages to make me less willing to work with him. He killed the drude, for example, and protected my brother. If he had stopped there, we might be having a different conversation.”

 

Leo smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “That’s how he is,” he agrees. “In my life, too. I’m glad Ritsu is safe, though. That must be a relief.”

 

“Yes. He also protected Izumi, and your child. I’m telling you these good things first, so you can keep those in mind, against my better judgement.” Rei breathes in slowly, then glances away into the fire. “But we can’t ignore that he tried to have your son killed. We can’t ignore that he tried to chase _mine_ down with the help of the paladins. And perhaps most egregiously, I absolutely cannot ignore that he captured, raped, and tortured Natsume. Whatever you decide to do with him—I’ll work around that. If it doesn’t involve some sort of punishment, however, I’ll put my foot down as the Emperor, and see that he’s punished as a wizard.”

 

“What would that look like?” Leo asks quietly,his eyes unreadable. “Whose justice is it? Under him in the Academy, someone who did those things…how would they be punished?”

 

“…For the crimes he’s committed as a wizard, he’d normally be put to death,” Rei frankly says. “But obviously, that isn’t an option here. I actually asked Izumi if I could just slit the bastard’s throat, and he wouldn’t allow it. Even if he did, I could probably only kill him for a few hundred years. He’s…unfortunately, he’s so much more than an archdemon.”

 

“Duh,” Leo says frankly. “He’s never been anything like them, I’ve always known that. But what are the options? He…I know,” he says, holding up a hand to forestall the protests. “I know he’s bad, okay? But…but he’s capable of a lot of good, I’m not saying emotionally, I’m saying he’s the most powerful creature any of us have ever met, and it would be really difficult to justify throwing that away to keep him in prison forever. My personal feelings as far aside as I can, Keito’s been teaching me how to throttle the bond down hard.”

 

“As much as I can,” Keito says, with a little shrug. “Just some regular self-mastery techniques, I don’t know how much they can help.”

 

“…Against all of my better instincts in this situation,” Rei says after a moment’s pause, “I am…willing. To an extent. To deal with him. But,” he says, looking up to meet Leo’s eyes, “it will never, ever be safe for you like this. I respect that you’ve been working on handling your bond in a much more constructive way, but having it magically controlled and held might be…better. That’s something we can discuss further, if you really want to keep him around. For some godforsaken reason, Izumi, also, seems willing to work with his presence, so you unfortunately have that in your corner as well…and as the Demon King and current Emperor, I will listen to the King and Lord of this realm’s requests. I just have to make sure that what is mine is also properly protected, and right now, it isn’t.”

 

Rei sucks in a slow breath. “So if it were entirely up to me,” he says, sparing a brief glance over to Shu, “he would be thrown into the Depths again. And I would thrall you again, to protect you from the effects of that. But I’m assuming that isn’t what you’re willing to tolerate, and Kaoru would chop my balls off, besides.”

 

“Rei,” Leo says frankly, “I never really minded it when you thralled me. You saved my life. You saved my sanity. But if you’re going to take your place as the Demon King, then as the ruler of my country, I can’t allow it to happen again. But I won’t forget that you saved me, all right?”

 

“I appreciate it. I’m not looking for a pat on the back, though; I’m just trying to be upfront in this,” Rei says with a laugh, leaning back. “I know it’s not plausible for me to thrall you again. I just wish I could, to save you any issues from him in the future. But because that’s off the table…what do you want from him, Leo? Tell me honestly. Do you want him to be your dog? Your actual advisor, with a seat at the table? The paladin he claims to be when it suits him?”

 

Leo grimaces. “That depends. In an ideal world? He’d be by my side, my trusted advisor, helping me make my country the greatest it’s ever been, protecting the realm from things that no one else can stop. But what if he decides to get all murdery again? I…there’s just so much I can’t ignore. I can’t ignore that he tried to kill Izumi, and my son. But I can’t ignore that he’s helped me with incredible advice, helped me build my country to what I never thought I could, and helped protect us from things I would have lost friends to otherwise. Ugh. Why does there have to be so much…nuance?”

 

“Because with Eichi, there will always be trade-offs,” Rei wearily says. “And it’s going to be up to you what you want those trade-offs to be, unfortunately. I can offer you advice, and tell you what I’d do, but your situation is different, of course. He’s tried to kill your husband and child, but he did that in an attempt to keep you safe. He killed the drude, but it was as much an effort to save us all as it was to paint himself in a much better light. He’s sitting more or less quietly in his prison right now, but he could leave whenever he wanted, if he was pissed off enough. I think…” He trails off, thinking. “You need a magical pact. Without one, he’ll do whatever he pleases. Even then, it’s still worrisome.”

 

“I don’t know if he’ll agree to any pact that will actually bind him, though,” Leo muses, trying to work his way through the problem as much as he is ask for help. “If he does agree, I’d be suspicious. He doesn’t love me, you know. I’m a necessary evil.”

 

“That could be true,” Rei admits, trying to keep sympathy out of his voice as much as possible. “Or he could be lying about that as well, to save his own skin. It’s difficult, with him. He’s apparently so protective of the Himemiya boy that he lashed out at Shu. He went out of his way to protect your child, even when it wasn’t necessary any longer.”

 

Leo shrugs. “He hasn’t tried to find me. And when I really relax and try to feel the bond…I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like I wish it did. He never…I mean, it used to,” he says, suddenly sounding very young, and very forlorn, drawing his knees up to his chest. “When he was dead. In the dreams. Then it…felt like I always thought it should, where it was always warm, and he was giving me good advice, and he cared what happened to me. Now…he sees me as a means to an end.”

 

“I’m not disagreeing. I saw what he was doing. That’s the reason I wanted you to step back and distance yourself.” Rei hesitates, then shifts closer, resting a hand atop Leo’s head. “I don’t think it’s unwise to keep distancing yourself from him—to bind him with a pact so that he’s your…dog, wizard, soldier, whatever it is you need him for. I don’t think you’re stupid for trying to be _with_ him either; I just think you need to be so, so careful, Leo. I don’t want this to happen again; not just for the country’s sake, but for yours. You know better than anyone that it can’t happen again.”

 

“…Everyone else gets a bonded that they can trust,” Leo whispers, then rubs a hand over his face, shaking his head. “Sorry. I’m not going to keep feeling sorry for myself. What do you need from me?”

 

“…I need you to get him properly underneath your thumb,” Rei quietly says. “Because you’re right—you can’t trust him. The only time you can trust him is if you can control him, and even then, you still have to give him what he wants to keep him satisfied. I can keep offering ideas, but ultimately, it’s going to be up to you.”

 

“That’s what I tried to do last time,” Leo says, as patiently as he can. “And it looked like it was working. But then he was…him. And it turned out he was just playing us. And—he’ll never, ever be content unless he has the Academy, Rei. I think if he had it, he’d behave himself indefinitely. I’m not saying to give it to him,” he says hastily, holding up a hand to forestall protests. “But that’s what he’s going to say, and I don’t know what to tell him.”

 

“Leo, with all due respect—he was putting on a show for you last time, and you wouldn’t listen to me when I told you as much. But that’s moot, it’s all moot, I’m not trying to scold you for anything,” Rei exhales, pushing his hair out of his face. “I can’t give him the Academy. If I gave him the Academy…all hell would break loose. As much as he has supporters there, they’re few and far between. The most we could do there…is some sort of position at your table, as a liaison.”

 

“What about when you’re gone?” Leo asks, leaning forward. “You’re strong enough to stop him, but what if he makes a move on the Academy once Natsume’s in place? He’s not strong enough to stand up to Eichi, not by a long shot. So I can’t give Eichi anything he wants. I have no way to bargain with him.”

 

“I know. And it’s even worse now, Natsume just wants to kill him every time he sees him.” Rei goes silent for a moment, thinking, long fingers drumming against his knee. “Humor me. Let’s assume for a moment that the Academy isn’t the only thing he wants.”

 

“All right. The Academy, and access to me, but sure.”

 

“I’m not taking you off the table, just the Academy. Sorry, but you are still a bargaining chip,” Rei apologetically says. “So is Izumi, and your child. He wants all of it, or he wouldn’t’ve wasted his time. I discovered what he also, rather desperately wants, however—is his sword. He was willing to bend over backwards and put his own existence on the line for that thing. We’ve been assuming he would be content with the Academy, but…historically, he’s operated far more with the paladins. Ah, Kaoru’s going to hate me for this, but…if somehow, we were able to give him more influence _there_ …maybe he’d be just as satisfied.”

 

Leo’s eyes light up. “I—oh, yeah,” he says, looking as if he’s been struck by lightning. “In one of our dreams, when he came to me, he said some stuff about the paladins, about how what the wizards are doing _now_ is what the paladins were supposed to be doing—like, helping the king, working closely with him, using the powers they _should_ have instead of…well, he has some weird thoughts about wizards, but you know what I mean. And he doesn’t like the Kingsguard. Ah, I bet he’d really like being involved with the paladins! And, um, no offense to Kaoru, but the paladins aren’t exactly doing much these days, as an order. How much bad stuff could he really do with that, you know?”

 

“I _might_ have offered to treaty with the paladins again if Kaoru were working to revise their covenants and…well, everything they are,” Rei admits with a grimace. “But it was nothing official yet. Currently, the Shadowlands has absolutely no treaty with them. I don’t like this, but I like it more than handing him the Academy. It gives him the access he wants to you and the crown, but in a far more downplayed fashion, and honestly…you’re right, paladins can’t do shit to humans. He’d be put to use actually defending you instead of being given the equivalent of a magical army.”

 

“I like this a lot,” Leo says, eyes intent. “Oh, I like this a hell of a lot. And you know, they’re in such disarray, it’d be like, a big task for him, you know? It’d keep him busy. And he needs to be busy, he’s at his best when he’s problem-solving. I kind of don’t care what Kaoru thinks, sorry? I like Kaoru a lot, but it’s not like _he’s_ doing much with the paladins.”

 

“He was planning to. I’ll discuss it with him, consider that handled, because it has to be,” Rei says, though the idea of that conversation makes him weary. “This is the only solution that seems even remotely plausible to live with. I still think we need to discuss actual pacts with him, but that can wait…preferably,” he says, his eyes sliding to Shu, “after Shu has had long enough to cultivate any and all Airbred blood he has within the Shadowlands. I don’t think anything else will be strong enough to bind him. His ‘word’ means shit.”

 

“I’ll grow strong as quickly as my lord needs me to,” Shu says serenely, fingers rather busy on Koga’s pawpads, as they have been for the last several minutes. “My magic shapes itself to the form of your need.”

 

“Weird. Kind of hot?” Leo cocks his head. “I think hot.”

 

“Very,” Rei agrees, his weighted stare lingering on Shu for a moment too long before he glances away again. “Until then…I think it’s best if I keep him contained. At least, as long as I can. It might be helpful if you speak to him, Leo, in the Shadowlands to keep him from thinking we’re going to ignore him forever. I think he hates being ignored more than anything.”

 

“He does,” Leo says with certainty. “And he hates thinking no one needs him, or that we think we don’t. I’ll talk to him, and maybe not tell him everything, but at least tell him I’m excited to work with him in a long-term way. I honestly might tell him everything if I think that’s best, that’s just kind of how I am when I follow my instincts!”

 

“He’s hungry,” Rei quietly says. “He destroyed the drude in one strike, but I could tell immediately that was everything he had. He’ll be the sweetest he’s ever been to you. You will need to be the strongest you’ve ever been in trying not to just let him run you over, Leo. Just because he has done good things doesn’t mean he’s a good person, and you’ll have to constantly remind yourself of that. I do.”

 

“…Will your bonds let him feed a little?” Leo asks, embarrassed at himself for the question.

 

“If you want him to. Apparently, he broke most of them already,” Rei deadpans. “Because Shu told him we were being mean to Himemiya.”

 

“Ehhh, he’d do it for that little pink shit?” Leo asks, and huffs. “But not for me? Bastard.”

 

“I’m sure he’d do it for you, but letting someone see that is a lot more embarrassing for him,” Rei says, amused in spite of himself. “Maybe go into it scolding him about that. Don’t forget, he’s actually an idiot.”

 

“An idiot genius,” Leo says with a sigh. “We really are fated to be bonded. How terrible. Yeah, I’ll go see him. Did you bring horses?”

 

“No, I teleported. But I can take you to him,” Rei says, offering up his hand. “I _am_ the Demon King, after all.”

 

Leo grins, and stands. “Great. Take me to make more bad decisions, I’m really good at them if they sound good at the time.”

 

“I assume you’re content here, Shu?” Rei asks, taking Leo’s hand. “With Koga’s…amazing pawpads.”

 

“I’m already drafting a new bootie pattern,” Shu assures him, a beatific smile on his face. “If either of us need you, I can come to you. Be safe, my lord.”

 

The look Koga fixates upon Rei is long suffering, but Rei merely smiles. “Good. Then make sure to stay with me, Your Majesty. You’re a touch too human for the Shadowlands.”

 

The cozy little cottage around them suddenly morphs and melts, turning the warmth of the fire to nothing but dark ash and flickering embers. Around them, suddenly, is pure darkness, safe for the shining light of the ‘moon’ that scarcely illuminates the pitch black woods around them. “You’ve never been, have you?” Rei asks, not releasing Leo’s hand as he pauses, surveying the area with eyes that glow red in the dim light. “Don’t stray from me, or you really will be someone’s lunch.”

 

“Oooh,” Leo says, wide-eyed as he looks around the Shadowlands, holding out his hand. “Keep hold, or I’ll…whoa, what’s that?” he asks eagerly, turning to dash off the path and investigate an odd-looking cranny. “I saw a light in here!”

 

Rei calmly snatches up Leo’s hand again, wrenching Leo back to him. “Leo. I’m _going_ to take you back home or tie you up and strap you to my back if you do that again.”

 

“But what _was_ it?” Leo asks, mesmerized as he allows himself to be led back to the path, eyes darting around everywhere. “That tree just moved, Rei. Is that supposed to happen? If so, _neat_.”

 

“Probably a demon attempting to lure you, trap you, and eat you. That’s how it works here.” Rei continues forward, drawing Leo carefully along behind him. “Everything here is hungry. Yes, even the trees. By the way,” he idly says, “for legitimacy’s sake, your son was absolutely born in the North. You’re welcome.”

 

“You’ve seen him,” Leo realizes, and clutches to Rei as they walk, abandoning the weird moving trees. “Tell me about him. Is he cute? Is he orange? Is he happy? Is Izumi a man again? Is _he_ happy? Is he cute?”

 

“Oh, yes, I’ve seen him. I held him for hours while Izumi napped. He’s a surprisingly handsome baby, very quiet, very well-behaved. His hair is red, just as it should be. And yes, Izumi is happily a man again—though cute…hmm…he was very cranky.”

 

“Yep, that’s Izumi,” Leo says with relief, his eyes shining in the darkness. “I’m having a whole new wing built in the palace, just for the prince, and Izumi. They don’t need it, but I want him to grow up and look at that wing and think, ‘Wow, my father was so excited that I existed that he did this.’ I want the whole country to know his name, once I decide on it. I want him…” He swallows, blinking hard. “I don’t want him, for a second, to ever think that either of us didn’t want him so badly we’d do anything for him.”

 

“I don’t think that child would ever question that,” Rei gently says, giving Leo’s hand a firm squeeze. “But I’m sure spoiling him can’t hurt. And, of course, finally announcing that you _are_ a delightfully married man and your country has a…Queen? Lord Husband? I forget what you’re calling him.”

 

The forest floor suddenly gives way to cobblestones, and Rei’s boots click lightly over them as he leads the way. There’s no mistaking the weight of magic in the air—dark and foaming, obviously and intensely annoyed. “Here we are,” he murmurs, pausing just before the entryway to the grove of trees that seems to sprout in a circle from the stone path.

 

“Reiiiiiii,” is the low, angry snarl that comes forth from the darkness of those trees. “What happened to your _queen?_ ”

 

“You scared him off. Satisfied?”

 

There’s a long pause, then suddenly, Eichi is there at the front of his prison, the one remaining, glittering red binding on his ankle fraying. Rei doesn’t react, his eyes lidded as Eichi bares his teeth in his face. “If you are doing _anything_ to hurt Tori—“

 

“He lied to prove a point. Clean yourself up, I brought you someone.”

 

Eichi pauses, eyes sliding back behind Rei. He pauses, takes a collected step back, and the talons and fangs are gone, making him exponentially less threatening in a minute when he’s grimy and blood-splattered. “You shouldn’t have brought him here,” he stiffly says. “Take him back.”

 

“And yet, I did. He’s shielded by me.”

 

“It’s not _safe_.” Eichi’s voice is a low, warning rumble. “Leo. Go back to the human realm.”

 

“Oh, so I am standing right here,” Leo says quietly, looking down at himself. “The way you kept talking about me and not to me, I was starting to wonder if I was visible.”

 

It’s not the way he’d wanted their reunion to go, but nothing could have been good, not after what Eichi had done. Not after what Eichi had done to _them_. Looking at him now, filthy and covered in the evidence of his own crimes, it’s impossible for Leo _not_ to imagine that glittering smile as he plunges a knife into Izumi, precious, perfect Izumi.

 

“You’re underneath Rei’s influence. He did that on purpose, to make this more difficult—“

 

“And you’d rather I leave him uncloaked in the Shadowlands?”

 

“That is not what I’m saying, and you know it.”

 

Rei pauses, bites back a few choice words, and steps aside, a hand upon Leo’s back. “I’ll take him back, after he’s done saying what he needs to,” he simply says.

 

Eichi, clearly, visibly frustrated, wavers for another moment before turning away, stalking back over to where he’d been sitting, pacing like a tiger in its cage. “I don’t like this,” he says, voice strained. “It doesn’t feel right, down here. It still feels like you’re far away. You don’t belong down here, Leo.”

 

“You lied about everything,” Leo says softly, and he crouches down, squatting above the filthy floor, his eyes unreadable. “You tried to take away the person I love. You tried to kill my son. None of that is what I’m here to talk about, but…” His voice shakes, colder than it’s ever been. “But I can never, _never_ forgive you for it. And seeing your face…I don’t know how to talk about anything else.”

 

“Then don’t talk to me,” is the eventual, quiet mutter. “I wouldn’t’ve done it if I thought I had another choice. And I didn’t, at the time. I was _trying_ to keep you safe—to guarantee it, when no one else could.”

 

“There’s always a better choice than that!” Leo’s fingers clench, and he rakes them back through his own hair, feeling the riot of emotions slamming through him, quaking him with their intensity in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to feel them before. _You have to be strong_ , Rei had told him, and surely Rei had mean to be firm with Eichi, but what’s taking strength is thinking beyond that awful news, thinking beyond that sickening betrayal. He sucks in a breath, gasping at the air, and nods slowly, straightening up, putting on the mantle of his office. “I’m not going to talk to you as me, then, but as king.”

 

“I’m telling you there wasn’t a better choice. Not against that thing.” Eichi looks away, staring straight ahead into the darkness, his fingers curling over his still only partially healed arm. “But fine,” he grinds out, “talk to me as king. What can I do for you, Your Majesty?”

 

“That’s the question. No, it’s not. You _can_ do a lot for me. What _will_ you do for me?” Leo’s head cocks, and he looks back at Rei, frowning. “What’s wrong with your arm?”

 

“The drude tried to attack before I had my sword back,” Eichi tiredly answers. “I stopped it, anyway.”

 

Rei shrugs a shoulder as he looks at Leo. “Their magic is highly corrosive, apparently.”

 

“And it doesn’t heal on its own.” Eichi’s eyes briefly slide back to Leo, then away again. “What do you _want_ me to do, then, Your Majesty?”

 

Leo takes a step forward, his shoulders square, looking the king he is as he stops in front of Eichi, looking down, eyes glittering. “I want you to build something with me. Something better and more powerful than the Academy. Something perfectly suited to you, that is going to need all of your cunning and intelligence and skill and charisma to execute. Something that is going to last forever, when we build the new world together.”

 

Eichi stares back up at him, blinking a few, slow times before bursting into laughter. “Did he tell you to say it just like that?” he asks, his brow furrowing in amusement. “Because I’m a narcissistic bastard that can’t resist having their interest piqued by such things? Fuck you, Rei,” he tosses over around Leo, his glowing blue stare fixing on Rei for a moment. “How scared was Shu just from me breathing on him? Did he smell nice?”

 

“Don’t start,” Rei lowly warns.

 

“Ahh, sorry, sorry. I can’t help that, either.” Eichi glances back up to Leo, his head cocking. “All right. I’ll bite, Your Majesty, but only because I find you _so_ charming when you act like this. Real kings make me hard.”

 

Leo glares down. “He didn’t tell me to say shit,” he says, voice hard. “You will show me a little more respect if you want to work with me in our stations. You _are_ a narcissistic bastard, that’s for sure, but you will remember who is your king!”

 

“Yeah, I remember,” Eichi murmurs, his eyes lidded as they remain fixed on Leo. “So tell me what you want already. I’ll try not to get so hungry that I can’t help myself when you sound like that.”

 

“The paladins.” Leo folds his arms. “They’re useless, diluted, and have no common purpose. I want them to be a force to be reckoned with, respected and heeded and valued everywhere on this continent. You’re the only person who can make something of that waste.”

 

“…and you’re asking me, and not Rei’s friend? Interesting. Maybe there is hope for this country yet.” Eichi shifts, letting his injured arm dangle, the other hand curling over his knee. “In the age of your ancestors, they were protectors of the king in an actual, real sense. Not this…shitty religious brigade that simply hated anything that glowed a different color. Did Rei tell you how impressive I was, killing the drude? Is that why you’re asking me?”

 

“‘Impressive’ wasn’t the word I used.”

 

“Oh, c’mon, it made you a little hard, I know.” Eichi smiles up at Leo, eyelashes batting. “That time you got off on a vision of me in full plate, with my sword? Well. It’s more realistic than you think.”

 

Leo sucks in a breath, unable to stifle it when the image in his mind is suddenly so clear, the heat of Eichi so close. “He just said you killed it,” he says softly. “Nothing about how it was. Was it hard?”

 

“What, my—“

 

“For fuck’s sake, Eichi.”

 

“Ehh, what? You think I’m funny.” Eichi’s smile continues to be brilliant. “Once I had my sword? No, it wasn’t difficult at all.” He reaches up a pale hand, fingers gingerly catching the end of Leo’s ponytail. “One strike, that’s it. It had your son. I wasn’t going to give it a second chance.”

 

Leo’s face clouds over, and he steps back. “You expect me to believe you care about my son’s safety? After you tried to _kill_ him?”

 

“It had nothing to do with me wanting your _son_ dead, Leo.” Eichi drops his hand. “I would’ve killed anything— _anyone_ to keep you out of harm’s way.” His lips purse, and he finally, begrudgingly says, “Ask Izumi. I swore an oath to protect your child.”

 

Leo ruthlessly tamps down the hunger, the longing that rises in him at the knowledge that Eichi had been touching him, that they could be touching right now, and he’s choosing not to. _Strong_ , he reminds himself. “Good. Then maybe…gods, I want to believe that. I want to believe that you can be at my side forever, that I can be at _yours_. That we can find a place for you that creates something incredible, not just placates, not just stow you away in a hole and waste the amazing, brilliant person you are. Do you want that?”

 

“…What’s the catch?” Eichi asks after a moment, watching him intently, his eyes fixed on Leo’s face. “There’s no way you’re just giving this to me. The bitch behind you wouldn’t allow it.”

 

“I’m the king, not him,” Leo says sharply. “I want you in a position of power, leadership, and responsibility. I want you to make miracles for us both. He’s leaving my realm. Are you staying in a hole here, or reforming a country with me?”

 

“…I certainly don’t want to stay in a hole.” Eichi’s head tilts. “I suppose I can do what you ask. Ah, but there is one thing.”

 

Leo turns to Rei, pausing. “Wait, did I forget anything? Before I listen to him, was there something else I was supposed to say?”

 

“Oh, come _on!_ You really had me going there, thinking you weren’t working with him!” Eichi whines, nearly stamping his foot.

 

“Only that he’s going to be bound by a pact before he leaves this place. Ah, and if he’s going to reform the paladins, he treats with me about the Shadowlands.” Rei’s eyebrows lift. “I can think of a few more things, but I think that will be between him and I.”

 

“I haaaate you. I told you to stay the _fuck_ away from my mate, stop whispering in his ear and making him do as you please!”

 

“Look, Leo,” Rei mildly says. “It’s like he _does_ give a shit. He really should be glad that I’m not having him gelded.”

 

“That wasn’t on the table,” Leo says with a frown, elbowing Rei in the gut. “I’m not _working with_ him, Eichi. I’m—I mean, yeah, I’m working with him, but only in the sense that he’s a king and I’m a king and I have to work with other kings so we can all have treaties and stuff. He’s just helping me remember, I always forget important stuff when you’re around distracting me with the way you smell and look and…yeah, you smell good.”

 

“He _should_ be gelded,” Rei remarks, unfazed by Leo’s sharp little elbow. “All things considered.”

 

“Oh, drop it already, war is war,” Eichi dismissively says, pushing his dirty hair back from his face as he watches Leo still, his eyes glittering and hungry. “I’ll work your miracles, if that’s what you want. I’ll protect your country and your conquests, your husband and your son—and I’ll fuck you within an inch of your life, so long as you let me out of here. And, as I was saying,” he lowly finishes. “You make sure I’m fed. Miracles don’t come for free.”

 

Leo pauses at that, contemplating, trying not to let himself be distracted by part of that and failing miserably, almost gleefully. “That sounds…really good,” he says, breath catching. “Tell me what I need to do to make sure you’re fed without dying. I mean, me dying. Rei said you feeding on me without a thrall would kill me, and I’m not letting you kill the citizens we’re trying to protect.”

 

“I don’t have to do anything but nibble on you. It’s your husband that makes it _incredibly_ easy.”

 

“Leo,” Rei quietly warns, setting a hand upon his shoulder and giving it a firm squeeze. “Refocus a little, before you jump headlong into this.”

 

“Just because _you_ can’t eat ice drakes doesn’t mean I can’t,” Eichi sniffs. “It’s like frozen sweet cream. Ritsu’s onto something.”

 

“Izumi can heal any part of me, though,” Leo says quietly, his heart thrumming no matter Rei’s firm touch. “My body, my soul, he can knit anything back together. Eichi could eat me over and over again and Izumi would…it would be fine, wouldn’t it, Rei?”

 

“Oh, I don’t even have to do that—though I do, very much, want to rip you open and eat you from the inside out,” Eichi murmurs. “I can eat _Izumi_. All I want, as much as I want. And if I just occasionally take a bite from you…”

 

“Be careful making deals for those that aren’t here,” Rei says, physically pulling Leo back a step and turning him to look at him instead. “Once you invite someone like him to feed, Leo, there’s no going back. And if you aren’t thralled, there’s nothing I can do to protect you—or Izumi, for that matter. Understand?”

 

Leo catches his breath, and nods, quickly, then once again, to shake himself out of it. “I can’t make any deals for Izumi,” he says, voice only a little shaky. “But…Eichi, I’m never going to want to stop you from tasting me, that much I can say.”

 

And for the first time, he reaches out a hand, palm-up, offering it to Eichi. “Can I be enough, for a while? I won’t let you starve.”

 

Eichi hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking up to hold Leo’s for a moment before he grabs that hand and yanks Leo forward into his chest, crushing him there as he buries his face down into his neck. “Go away,” he snaps at Rei, teeth bared in a snarl before he turns his face into Leo’s hair again, inhaling deeply.

 

Leo’s hand thumps weakly against Eichi’s chest, his emotions rioting again, but his second strike turns into a grab as he burrows into Eichi’s chest, breath coming in heaving, dry sobs. _Bastard, why can’t I have this all the time, why do you have to be so bad, why can’t you be what I know you can be, why can’t the world I’m building be right for you, why didn’t we live in the era of bloodthirsty kings who won by conquering, why aren’t we bloodspattered and victorious side by side, why aren’t we both soft commoners who could take joy in a gentle life, why isn’t anywhere right for us when you’re so right, when I’m so right in your arms?_

 

“You’re noisy, in the Shadowlands,” Eichi murmurs in his ear, his arm clamped firmly about Leo, not letting him move an inch. The sudden lack of strain on their bond makes him shiver in relief, and his fingers curl into Leo’s back. “Shhh. Don’t cry. I’ll behave myself.”

 

“I must be,” Leo says, tears falling from his eyes to wet Eichi’s ragged shirt, “the dumbest idiot in every realm. Because when you say that…I believe you.”

 

“Moments like this, talking to you—ah, it makes me want to try, at the very least.” Eichi’s eyes lid as he strokes a hand down Leo’s back slowly. “You ask a lot of me, I hope you know.”

 

“And you, of me.” Leo looks up, eyes shining with tears, cheeks streaked, but not unhappy. “You’re asking me to forgive things I can’t forgive. And I’ll try, because you’re trying.”

 

“I’m not asking you to forgive me. Just…mm, to forget about it for the time being,” Eichi lightly says, lifting his hand to absently thumb away Leo’s tears. “I’m really terrible. You won’t hear me asking for a pardon.”

 

“Pardon?” Leo asks, a hint of a smile twitching at his lips, as he nuzzles his face into Eichi’s hands. “I’m fairly certain I just sentenced you to a few hundred years of indentured servitude. With a smile, no less.”

 

“Isn’t all public service indentured servitude?” Eichi sweetly replies. “I’ve been doing that for centuries. It’s nothing new.”

 

“There is one thing, Eichi.”

 

Rei’s footsteps on the stone ground makes Eichi heave a sigh, irritation furrowing his brow. “What now?”

 

“Your cloak,” Rei says, simply holding out a hand. “If you want access to the human realm again, you’ll hand it over, and accept your exile from the Academy for good.”

 

Eichi goes stone-still, his expression unchanging. “A real consequence, how adorable.”

 

“I’m completely serious.”

 

“I can tell you are, which is what makes me want to rip your head off. It’s _mine_ —“

 

“What, your cloak, or the Academy? I don’t care about either,” Rei flatly interrupts. “Hand it over, or I _will_ make sure you stay here, for the rest of your shitty existence. You’re lucky we’re being so generous in the first place.”

 

Eichi’s teeth grit, his expression set into a dark fume as his eyes slide back to Leo, a picture of _do I really have to do this?_

 

“Rei,” Leo says, his voice resonant as he straightens up, looking at Eichi. “Where is his sword? That’s a fair trade, don’t you think? It’s time for you to wear white again, Eichi. But with a different cloak. One that means something different. At my side.”

 

“With Kaoru. He can have it back, once he agrees to this.”

 

“…Fine,” Eichi finally says, a long, weighted pause lingering between them. “I’ll hand it over. I’ll accept these terms. But—“

 

Rei exhales. “You don’t get to put a condition on it.”

 

“But who else could make a paladin’s cloak for me but Shu?” Eichi innocently continues. “Please put that request in. Of course, I’ll pay.”

 

Leo punches him in the stomach. “Gross.”

 

“Owww. I’m delicate, I’m dying, how could you punch a starving, wounded man?”

 

“Please, reconsider all of this, Leo,” Rei exasperatedly says. “Just leave him here to suffer and languish away.”

 

“Shu’s never made a paladin cloak,” Leo growls, hair vibrating a bit. “So he’s not going to start now. Dumb condition, absolutely rejected, you’re dumb, and Rei, if you didn’t give him such good reactions, he wouldn’t do it so much! But it’s fine, you and Shu are emigrating, aren’t you?”

 

“If _I_ didn’t give such good reactions? Your reactions are also exactly what he wants! Don’t put this on me!”

 

“If Shu doesn’t make it for me, I’m not agreeing, and I’m not leaving,” Eichi stubbornly sniffs, releasing Leo and sitting back. “He made this cloak and I want another one.”

 

“…Are you absolutely serious,” Rei mutters underneath his breath. “Of course you are. Only _you_ would be so unreasonable.”

 

“Changed my mind, geld this ass.”

 

“Nooo! No gelding. Le~o, it’s an innocent request! Of course I’d want a fancy cloak from the best tailor in the land, do you want me to look like I’m _poor?”_

 

“…I will grant this condition, but I’m going to put a condition on this condition.” Leo’s eyes glint almost evilly. “Shu will do it, too.”

 

“…You could just tell him it’s for _Kaoru_ —“

 

“Oh, absolutely not,” Rei blithely says. “He has to know exactly who it’s for in order for it to be an actual article of protection. I’ll agree to that condition on his behalf. But no magic, no violence, nothing that would make _your_ hackles raise about someone doing it to _your_ mate can be used to convince him. I do know he accepts both Mainland and Island currency, however.”

 

Eichi stares at Leo, reaching out to prod at his shoulder. “You’re enjoying this too much. Stop smiling.”

 

Leo blinks up at Rei. “Can I maybe set my own condition, thanks? You would have liked it, now you’re just ruining it.”

 

“Fine. But if it’s about letting Shu geld him—“

 

“Can we _not_ talk about that, please?”

 

“I was _going_ to say, before you two started whipping them out and measuring them,” Leo grinds out, “that my _condition_ was that you have to sit and be nice while he weaves it. And that if Shu says you make a single inappropriate, nasty, or antagonistic comment the entire time, I’ll snap your sword in two.”

 

Eichi blanches, very much like he’d been slapped across the face. “You can’t, first of all,” he settles on first. “It won’t break.”

 

“Sounds very much like you’re trying to convince yourself, but all right.”

 

“…Fine,” Eichi says after a moment, somewhat huffily. “Though I’ll have you know, I’m _always_ charming. And I don’t need to measure it—“

 

“I’m not sure about that,” Leo says, tapping a finger against his chin, looking pointedly over at Rei, and down. “I don’t think there’s _that_ much of a difference…but Rei, you agree to this condition? I think Shu would like it. And he _does_ make the best cloaks in the kingdom.”

 

“I agree—but if Shu ends up hearing about it and saying ‘no’, I won’t force him to make it,” Rei says, trying not to look too smug when Eichi starts growling. “Calm yourself, you ass. It makes one wonder why you’re so insecure.”

 

“…Please appreciate,” Eichi grinds out, looking to Leo, “how much I am trying to not be inappropriate _right now._ ”

 

Leo looks to Eichi, then back to Rei, a little doubtfully. “Is this about to be an angry threesome? I can’t tell around you two.”

 

“It could.”

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

Eichi shrugs a shoulder. “Your loss. The Demon King here,” he lowly tells Leo, as if Rei can’t hear him, “is a little squeamish.”

 

“If you start talking about that so dismissively, I’m calling off every deal and dragging the king out of here.”

 

Leo looks up, and presses a low, soft kiss to Eichi’s lips. “We have an eternity to make fun of him,” he promises. “For now, let’s get you out of here. Your arm is hurting me.”

 

“It hurts me, too, for what it’s worth,” Eichi sighs, leaning into the kiss with a low, pleased sound. He reaches up, untying the cloak from his shoulders as he rises, and offers it up to Rei with his good arm, a mocking bow following. “Here you are, Your Majesty.”

 

“If you take one step out of line,” Rei quietly says, taking the cloak from him, “I will never…ever let you rest.”

 

Eichi glances up through his lashes, a smile on his lips. _Big talk, from someone who has just agreed to create his own worst enemy._

 

Rei stares back at him a moment longer before taking a step back, not turning his back on Eichi for an instant as he folds the cloak over his arm. “Izumi and your child are in the North still. If you want to see them and have Izumi heal that arm, I’ll need to ask ahead. There are those that wouldn’t want to be in Eichi’s presence right now.”

 

“Yeah, like everyone,” Leo says, as cheerfully as he can when he feels like he’s walking tightrope on the edge of a knife. “Hey, Eichi? It kind of feels like I’m making the same mistakes I always make, you know? Just…before you go back on your word…maybe take a look at me through the bond and let me know if you think I could take one more betrayal from you. Yeah?” Then deliberately, painfully, he opens he bond as Keito had taught him, opens it wide, and lets Eichi— _makes_ Eichi feel the full weight of the despair, the self-loathing, and the hopeless darkness that has engulfed him for the last several weeks.

 

“Ow, ow, ow, put that up, or so help me,” Eichi bemoans, hurriedly taking a step back and holding up his good arm as if to shield himself. It does nothing, of course, and the deep, physical _weight_ can’t be shaken off, leaving him to shiver uncontrollably. “Who taught you to do that, huh? I’m not going back on my word, I’m _not_ , I’ll go throw myself on the Sorrow’s Gate right now to prove it! No use in healing my broken ass twice, honestly!”

 

“He has a point,” Rei idly says. “And that does need to be done.”

 

“Just give me my sword back, and I’ll do it. Close the bond back up already, that _hurts_.”

 

“Uh…gimme a second, that part is hard,” Leo mutters, and closes his eyes, building that wall up again, throttling the bond down to a manageable level. “There, better? Yeah, get him that sword, Rei, I want that thing closed and the North resettled. Can you get a message to the Northerners for me once it’s done, that it’s safe to come home? This place is a defense for us, we have no idea what’s north of the glaciers.”

 

“More drakes.”

 

“More demons. Dragons.”

 

“…Probably both,” Eichi begrudgingly allows, side-eyeing Rei for a moment more, staring longingly after his cloak after Leo closes their bond down again. He shivers, rolling out his good shoulder.

 

“You can talk to Izumi about the North when you see him—which will be soon,” Rei reassures Leo. “Just give me a minute.”

 

_Ritsu. Time to come home; do me a favor and bring Izumi and Kaoru with you…and Eichi’s sword. I found the king._

 

 _See? You can be useful when you want to be. Ahh, I’m going to miss Mao, can I bring him?_ Ritsu asks hopefully. _I’ll feed him and take care of him, human food and everything._

 

 _Not this time, love. I’m sure he’ll visit, though._ Rei pauses, and wearily adds, _Tell Kaoru to please, please not bring Natsume, no matter how much he probably wants to. Now is not the time._

 

_Ehh, he’s not going to be happy, but fine. I’m saddling now, we’ll be on the way in a couple of minutes. I told Izumi we found the king, he’s in a pretty good mood._

 

_Kaoru’s already angry with me, so what’s one more thing, honestly…_

 

“They’re on the way,” Rei says, eyeing Eichi one more time before releasing the binding still looped about him with the flick of a finger. “We’ll meet them on the outskirts. Behave.”

 

“It’s really not kingdom policy to leave prisoners wounded, you know,” Leo says, looping an arm around Eichi’s waist as they make their way out. “Eichi, please don’t embarrass me. This is hard enough, yeah? Just…don’t make me ashamed in front of Izumi. Not today, I feel so bad.”

 

“This isn’t your kingdom, Your Majesty,” Rei says with a shrug, leading the way through the darkened forest as if he can see as clear as day. “And to be fair—I would’ve healed him, had he not tried to tear out my mate’s throat.”

 

Eichi glowers at Rei’s back, gritting his teeth against every retort as much as the distracting, searing pain running up his arm and into his shoulder. “I’m too tired for this,” he mutters. “I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

 

Rei spares a glance over his shoulder at them. “Good boy.”

 

It _does_ take effort to keep a hold on his tongue then, but Eichi manages, albeit barely, as Rei leads them directly from the Shadowlands to the borders, which parts for him as if drawing back a curtain. The white, snow-covered North lays out before them, and Rei sighs at Leo. “You’re still really not dressed for this.”

 

“At least you didn’t wrap him in your Nightcloak,” Eichi dubiously says, hoisting Leo up and off of the ground with his good arm before he can protest.

 

“I don’t have it right now. I imagine you know why.”

 

Eichi ignores him, and attempts to bundle Leo into the enormous fur cloak that Rei has let him borrow. “Wear boots like a normal human already.”

 

“I got surprised,” Leo says with a shrug, nestling easily into Eichi’s side. “You’re keeping me warm, besides. It’s nice.”

 

Hoofbeats echo around the icy border, and Ritsu emerges first, looking rather pleased at the turn of events, followed by Kaoru, looking considerably more sour, and Izumi. Leo’s face lights up, and he perks up in Eichi’s arms, waving like a hooligan. “Oooooi!!!! Bastard page! Wahahaha, I missed you so much!!!”

 

Izumi’s face dissolves into open, helpless relief, and he all but leaps off of his horse into the snow the moment they pull close enough. Unlike absolutely everyone else, he’s dressed like it’s spring, hair bound, lightweight cloak flowing, and a single layer of everything else that would leave any normal person frozen in an instant. “You absolute _idiot._ Where did you even run off to?” he frets, all but snatching Leo out of Eichi’s grasp and shaking him firmly by the shoulders. “Did you seriously think that was smart? You’re the _king_.”

 

Rei steps away from that reunion, one eye on Eichi still as he glances up to Ritsu. “Thank you,” he simply says. “There’s still a bit of cleanup I need to do here—would you mind my post until then? I’ll send Shu in after you as soon as I can.”

 

Ritsu grins, and claps Rei on the shoulder. “Let me take care of the rebuilding, I’ll have it looking perfect by the time you get back. And if you keep lending me Arashi, it’ll be well-decorated, too.”

 

“How horrifying,” Rei lightly says, though he smiles all the same. “He’s Mika’s to loan, not mine, but he’s welcome as a guest as long as he sees fit. Thank you again, little brother. Kaoru…” Rei pauses, heaves a sigh, and steps over to his horse. _I know we parted in the middle of a fight, please work with me now._ “I need you to hand that sword over to Eichi.”

 

Kaoru gives Eichi a long look, then sighs, unbuckling Sorrow’s Heart from where he’s stashed it, swinging down off of Honor and walking over to Eichi. He meets Leo’s eyes, and says, “I hope you know what you’re doing, Your Majesty.”

 

Leo, deep in Izumi’s embrace, still clinging to Eichi, beams up at him. “We all hope I know what I’m doing, myself included.”

 

Kaoru’s mouth twitches. “Fair enough,” he agrees, and hands over the sword, hilt first. “That’s a lovely blade. You made it, right?”

 

“I did. Leo, you’re going to have to let me go for a moment,” Eichi says after attempting to take the sword with his currently mangled hand and failing. “All the better to slay demons with and all that.” He pauses, glancing up. “It’s a joke.”

 

“Your timing is off,” Rei deadpans, tossing Eichi’s cloak up to Ritsu. “Burn it.”

 

Ritsu looks down at the cloak, over at Eichi, then back to Rei. “Can I put it on and walk around and maybe jack off in it first?”

 

“Hey!” Eichi protests.

 

“Do whatever you want with it,” Rei sweetly says. “Shu made it, don’t forget, so you’ll need to be very thorough in its destruction.”

 

“This is hurting me. More than my arm, which already hurts a lot! Izumi, fix it!”

 

Izumi pauses, frowns, and eyes Leo. “Is this a thing we’re doing?” he bluntly asks. “You’re going to need to be really clear about how I’m supposed to deal with him, after all this.”

 

“I saved your baby’s life!”

 

“After trying to kill it once before. Listen, I wasn’t privy to your negotiations, I don’t know. And you’re kind of an ass all the same.”

 

Leo looks over at Rei, then glances quickly at Kaoru, then back to Izumi with a huge grin. “We’ve got a plan. First, Eichi’s going to close the Gate, and we’re going to bring all the Northerners back and help them rebuild their homes. Then, we’re going to give Eichi a job that he’s really good at, and we already all talked about it, and it’s good as long as he behaves himself. And…me, and you if you want to, are going to make sure he isn’t always so hungry he gets crazy. He swore an oath to protect our son. Oh, oh, and then! Or first! I have to send out criers to every corner of the kingdom, telling them that they have a prince, and a…you still like Lord Husband?”

 

“I…yes, that’s fine,” Izumi rather helplessly says, unable to _not_ to be swept up into Leo’s honest enthusiasm. “Leo…that _sounds_ good, but…”

 

“He’s an eternal optimist, let’s leave it at that,” Rei says swiftly swinging an arm around Kaoru’s shoulders to draw him back. “Kaoru and I need to discuss. I recommend you heal that arm up so Eichi can do the first job he’s been assigned as a protector of this realm—then let’s reconvene, shall we? In Sena?”

 

“…In Sena,” Izumi warily says, giving Leo another, distracted squeeze as he eyes Eichi up and down, then sighs, holding out his hand. “Fine. You’re not in that bad of shape, it’s just weird.”

 

“I think that’s good?” Eichi says, amused, and offers up his wounded hand and arm automatically. “I really am grateful. Thank you.”

 

Rei spares a lingering glance back to them before giving Kaoru a little shove towards his horse. “Ride off with me for a moment,” he says. “We need to talk.”

 

Kaoru looks askance, but swings up onto Honor. “Are you going to tell me how horrible I am some more?” he asks, mildly suspicious. “I can work with you while you’re mad at me, but I don’t have much interest in being told how everything I do is wrong again right now.”

 

“I have nothing else to say about any of that,” Rei says, hauling himself up behind Kaoru in an easy bounce. “Nothing at all. Except I’ll make sure the thrall is gone within a day. And we’re dropping it, no more excuses. Ride on, I’ve agreed to something stupid and I need you.”

 

Kaoru sucks in a breath, then nods. “Fine. I’m yours. Like I’ve always been,” he adds, and kicks Honor forward across the snowy plain, keeping the odd dark border on their right side.

 

“Leo needed a bargaining chip. The Academy was out of the question,” Rei says, looping an arm around Kaoru’s waist, dropping his chin onto his shoulder. “But the paladins are not. The logic,” he says before Kaoru can say a word, “is that the worst Eichi can do is destroy demons and creatures. As a wizard, he can destroy anything. Please, _please_ tell me you’ll work to keep him in check.”

 

Kaoru gives Rei a sudden, startled look over his shoulder. “You—you gave him the paladins? The paladins, that he turned into a secret hush police force for him when he got corrupted by the drude?”

 

“ _Leo_ gave him the paladins. I merely offered the suggestion. Leo wants a protective force for the realm. That’s why I need you,” Rei presses again, “to be _just_ as active. I made it clear Eichi has to treat with me, and that he’ll be bound by pacts to Leo’s name as well. But that doesn’t mean I trust him—I need you to be the driving force behind this so that Eichi doesn’t decide to just annihilate the Shadowlands with that hulking sword of his.”

 

“…You’re asking me to ally and work with the creature that raped my bonded,” Kaoru says quietly. “You, who almost threw away the entire human realm because he threatened yours.”

 

“I am.” Rei’s voice is tired. “I’m asking too much. I know that, and I’m sorry. The alternatives aren’t any better. Shu taunted him, and he ripped through Mika’s bindings on him as if they were paper—and in the Shadowlands, Mika’s power is easily amplified to that of a Nightcloak’s. If I were to push for his imprisonment—and I will, if it comes to that—my full-time job would be holding him. He’s fed too much this century; he’s too strong, he’s…he’s the definition of ‘if you can’t beat him, join him.’ And I’m sorry. If you can’t do it, I won’t force you…but I want someone I can trust within the paladin ranks, if nothing else.”

 

“You’re very free to barter something you don’t believe in at all.” Kaoru’s voice is harsh. “You’ve been mocking and condemning me for telling you about any paladin beliefs I still have, and now you want me—not trying to change them, not remaking them better, but working for the very creature who’s been corrupting them, in the interests of protecting _demons_. Rei…this is too much, even for you.”

 

“I’m not asking for that at all! I still want you to be at the forefront of fixing the order. I need you to be, for everything you just said. Eichi is _not_ the answer, and we all know that,” Rei insistently says. “But if we don’t let him think he’s in charge of something, you know—you _know_ this will just happen again. I know it’s not a perfect solution, Kaoru, and I’m willing to hear others and bring it back to the king. Also—fuck you, I have not been _mocking_ you or _condemning_ you. Did I not just encourage the idea of being able to work with you?”

 

“You say, over and over again, that thralls can be a necessary evil,” Kaoru points out wearily. “And you won’t hear anything about it from me. I just get to be glad that you’re dropping it after twenty years, so you don’t want to hear any of my pesky moral objections. You know, Eichi also thinks that certain evils are necessary, when it suits him.”

 

“You’re making it impossible for me to even attempt to fix this with you. You’re right. Are you happy? The situation with Mao was impossible, but you’re right. No amount of explaining it further will please you, so please, just accept the win and leave it be. If you compare me to Eichi one more time, you will _never_ see me again—because, and you cannot convince me I’m wrong about this, there is a huge difference between thinking the deliberate harm and torture of a person for _sport_ is a ‘necessary evil’ and thinking a prohibitive spell is a ‘necessary evil.’”

 

Kaoru’s teeth grit. “Stop threatening me. It’s cruel. Fine, you’re not like him, you’re just a hypocrite. How am I supposed to tell Natsume about this? ‘Sorry, sweetheart, it doesn’t matter if he hurt you, he’s pretty useful so he’s my new work buddy?’ What would you say to Shu, if Eichi had kidnapped him, tortured him, raped him, and then I asked if you’d work with him doing something morally pure, where your emotions can never be compromised?”

 

“Tell me, honestly, if there’s anything in your paladin rules that gives a shit about that sort of thing,” Rei quietly says. “Because Eichi, a shining example of a paladin, apparently, doesn’t seem to think so. His sword still seems to work just fine. You’re also forgetting, Kaoru, that I am not the only one furious. Natsume is your bonded, but he might as well be my child. This is the best I could come up with to keep Eichi away from the Academy, and away from him, outside of keeping him locked up and _thralling the king again_ to protect him from whatever Eichi might try to do through their bond. If you have another suggestion, I already said I’d hear it.”

 

Honor hesitates, sensing Kaoru’s tension, so close to his battle readiness, and Kaoru leans forward, his face a cold mask as he pats the horse’s neck. “I don’t solve international politics,” he says quietly. “I just hit things with a sword, and try to make sure they’re the right things. I don’t know what to do.” _Help me, love,_ he sends helplessly, his confusion and worry spilling over.

 

“That’s why I need you to _trust me_.” Rei’s voice is pleading, edging close to desperate. “I’m not trying to make your life miserable. I promise I’m not. I’ll see that you have a seat on the king’s council, and Eichi is relegated on the front lines instead—anything, anything to keep him in check. But I need you there, Kaoru. I know Eichi, and he immediately started thinking of how to use this against us. That’s who he is.”

 

Natsume’s startled, wary confusion pokes back. _You’re jumbled and I just woke up and you’re not here. What’s going on?_

 

_Sorry, I’m sorry, I’m not trying to dump this all on you, I’m just…lost. Nothing’s dangerous, nothing’s wrong. Rei’s just…turning me inside out again._

 

“…Yeah,” he says shortly aloud. “Fine. I’ll do politics and try to control them, I’ll give up my life and work with the worst branch of my order. I’ll work with the man that raped my bonded. Because I trust you, Rei. And I always will. And I swore it. So don’t ask me to solve it, because I’m trusting you to do that.”

 

He turns, eyes red, jaw set. “I’m asking you to figure out how to make this right. And when you do…maybe I’ll feel good about seeing you again.”

 

“…That’s fair,” Rei quietly says. “I will make it right, Kaoru. You know I will. Thank you. And I am so…so sorry.”

 

 _Tell me when you get back._ Natsume’s worry seeps through, followed by the soothing, mental equivalent of a head pat. _Lord Rei has a lot on his plate. Just don’t let him push all of it onto yours._

 

_I’ll tell you when I get back. And…I think I’ll be talking to Rei through you for a few years, at least._

 

Kaoru turns Honor, and urges him back down, keeping the Shadowlands on his left, unable to think of anything more to say.

 

Rei falls just as silent, staring out over the white expanse of the North until they arrive back to the point where they started, Leo shivering, Izumi anxious, and Eichi beaming. “I’m borrowing Izumi’s horse,” he says, spotlessly healed underneath the stains of blood still splashed over him. “And…well, it’ll probably be morning before I’m back. Reconvene in Sena?”

 

Rei grunts, hopping off of Honor. “Don’t fuck it up,” he says rather than agree. “I have other matters to attend to. Kaoru, can you escort His Majesty back?”

 

“Yeah.” Kaoru forces a smile. “Good to see you, Majesty.”

 

Leo plants a kiss on Eichi’s mouth, then another, shamelessly, on Izumi’s. “Who am I riding double with? I didn’t bring a horse. I didn’t even bring boots!”

 

“Get up there,” Izumi exasperatedly says, hoisting Leo up with some effort to help him scramble up behind Kaoru. “Dumbass.”

 

The horse that Izumi rode up on, at least, isn’t a demon mare, though it still side-eyes Eichi for a solid moment, shifting warily underneath the weight-apparent of Sorrow’s Heart. “Happy to be of service,” he hums, and immediately kicks the gelding off into a full gallop through the snow.

 

Rei whistles, and from the dark emerges the long, lithe black form of a familiar demon horse. “Bitch!” Izumi brightly greets, surprised. “I thought she was _so_ dead, after everything that’s happened…”

 

“It takes quite a bit to kill one of these creatures,” Rei says, unfazed by the way the horse pins her ears at him, taking a snap at his hand when he reaches out to pet her nose. “Be safe, all of you. If you need me, you know how to reach me.”

 

Izumi watches Rei immediately fade from view, the strange, dark morph of teleporting of demons not so unfamiliar after months of Ritsu, and shrugs, hauling himself aboard the fidgeting horse. “Wanna bitch about it?” he bluntly asks Kaoru, picking up the reins.

 

Kaoru’s smile is tight and grim as they start riding for Sena. “I don’t know. Yeah. No. Yeah. He’s a hypocrite, as long as he gets what he wants he’s happy to ignore facts.”

 

“I think that’s everyone,” Leo says practically. “I’m definitely the same. So are most people.”

 

“It’s not…the same.”

 

“Sure it is,” Leo insists. “Like, if there’s a child drowning right in front of you, you’d risk everything to save him, right? But you know that children are dying all the time from things you could fix—they’re starving in the mines in the Hinterlands, or having their parts cut off in the Sandlands, or being eaten in the weird Volcano places. Right, maybe you can’t fix the volcanos, but you know what I mean. We solve the problem that’s right in front of us. Making things go according to plan is how we lose. It’s like…running on snow. Don’t stop, or you’ll fall.”

 

“Your Majesty, no offense, but you aren’t making any sense.”

 

“Yeah, well, I’m cold.”

 

“Maybe wear shoes next time, then,” Izumi dryly says, even as he reaches down to unlace his own, tossing them over one at a time. “Put them on. I’m made for this weather. For what it’s worth, Kaoru, I think this is shitty all around. I know why it’s happening,” he says, holding up a hand before Leo can open his mouth, “but that doesn’t erase the facts, just like you said. It’s going to take a lot more than a pretty smile to make me put up with him for the long haul. Sorry, Leo.”

 

“…I know all of that,” Leo says, giving a suddenly sad little half-shrug. “It doesn’t erase it for me, either. Kaoru…Izumi…you two are maybe the ones I trust most to do what’s right in the world.”

 

He leans forward, grabbing the reins, yanking Honor to a stop. Then he swings off, standing in the snow in Izumi’s boots, tears brimming in his eyes as he looks from one of them to the other. “You guys know what’s right, right? You know what has to be done. If you do it now, you can probably do it before Eichi realizes. He’s getting close to the Sorrow’s Gate. Do it while he’s there.”

 

“Are you insane?” Kaoru asks, appalled. “Do you know—“

 

“What I’m asking? Yeah. Come on, you’ve got a big sword.” Leo looks at Izumi, and reaches up to squeeze his knee. “You know I’m right. As long as I’m alive, he’ll never not be able to hurt people.”

 

Izumi opens his mouth, staring down at him in open disbelief. “No,” he says, tongue acting before his brain. “Fuck no. Leo—you’re so stupid. Kaoru, pull him back up onto your fucking horse and tie him there if you have to. Leo, no one is _killing you_ to get rid of him. I already took that option off the table. Listen, he’s a piece of shit and he’s—well, he’s actually the worst, no one’s going to argue there, but we’ll deal with it. Just because I don’t _like_ the situation doesn’t mean it’s not workable. We have more on him this time, even more if he’s depending on me to feed him. I like Rei, but I’m not like him. I won’t just let him because I feel trapped in that situation—and you _know_ that’s what it is, Kaoru, so take a deep breath about your own bullshit for a moment,” he says, jabbing a finger in Kaoru’s direction. “I don’t have a bonded anymore. I don’t have to protect something like that. So if I have to be the one that kicks this idiot’s ass on the regular, fine. But you, Leo, need to stop trying to fucking _die_ all the time, and Kaoru—you need to get your shit together about Natsume, because he’s going to hate every second of you glaring at Eichi and thinking ‘that’s the bastard that raped my bonded.’” Izumi pauses, and glances back down to Leo. “Dunno how up to date you were on that nuance, but now you’re up to speed on why Kaoru’s pissed. Anyway, get back on the fucking horse, I am not going to be a widower with a screaming baby.”

 

Leo stares at Izumi for a long minute, then kicks a snowdrift. “That was _really_ cool of me,” he mutters, and lets Kaoru help him back up onto the horse. “You totally took all the drama out of it.”

 

“Dying isn’t cool. Stay on the fucking horse.”

 

“I am not on my own bullshit,” Kaoru says, mildly offended. “I think I’m justified.”

 

“Of course you do,” Leo says, with a little shrug. “Isn’t that what I was saying? Everyone thinks they’re justified.”

 

“Well…shit. Yeah, I guess.”

 

“You’re justified, but how long are you going to sit on that?” Izumi exasperatedly says, kicking his horse forward until he remembers it’s a demon horse, shit, and she’s _fast_. He doubles back abruptly, looking a bit windswept. “ _I’m_ fucking justified. You’re justified, Leo is justified, Rei is justified…I don’t know, whoever else Eichi has recently fucked with, we’re all justified. But you are on your own bullshit if you aren’t willing to work with it and make him your bitch instead—which is pretty much the option we’ve been given at this point by enlisting his help repeatedly. Kaoru, if you’re mad about it—and you should be—why haven’t you just challenged him to a duel yet and kicked his ass?”

 

“Well—I mean, I’d lose,” Kaoru admits. “I’ve never been that good at duels.”

 

“Loser,” Leo chimes in cheerfully. “I fought duels for Izumi. I’d do it again. And I don’t have your experience.”

 

“I don’t _really_ have that much experience,” Kaoru admits. “I mean, yeah, a lot, but not like…listen, I know I’ve been alive for a long time, but I spent a pretty significant portion of it—all that I could manage, really— _not_ getting myself into duels. Drinking contests, sure.”

 

Izumi regards him skeptically. “Then drop it,” he bluntly says, shrugging a shoulder. “You’re not doing Natsume any favors if you aren’t going to fight for his honor, but you’re still going to think about it all the time, you know? If you don’t want to duel him, get even with him by making his life hell, at least.” He pauses, then asks, very carefully, “Does Eichi even… _know?_ About you two?”

 

Kaoru shrugs. “Don’t think so. Huh. Yeah, I can do that. Maybe I’ll give him grunt work for a few decades and spar with you in the meantime, _then_ duel him.”

 

“That’s…look, I like you, but that’s kind of being a pussy. Like, I’m good, but at least spar with Arashi.”

 

“Ehh? Whenever I was in the Capitol, I heard about you fucking ladies and dueling lords, I figured you’d be great at it.”

 

“I am! Like I said, I’m good. But if you want the Eichi experience, I feel like Arashi is more suited. You know, minus the enormous goddamn cleaver he carries around. Why is it so _big?_ ” Izumi snorts. “Overcompensating.”

 

“Right? I like a big sword, but that’s a little much.”

 

“You’re both wrong,” Leo says with a sigh. “It’s sexy. Hey, Kaoru, you _bonded_?”

 

“Oh? Yeah. To Natsume, it’s…I mean, it’s good, but—“

 

“Izumi, tell me about our baby!” Leo says urgently and eagerly, flitting rapidly between subjects.

 

“You’re going to meet him soon, calm down,” Izumi sighs, struggling (and failing) to hide the fond expression that filters across his face all the same. “Don’t be so loud, you’ll bother the horses or cause an avalanche.” He pauses, realizing something. “I guess you finally visited the North.”

 

Leo beams. “It’s cold! True! You were right about that!”

 

“Yeah. It’s cold.” Izumi’s voice turns wistful. “Sorry you don’t get to see it when it’s…you know. Actually pretty nice.”

 

Off in the distance—far, _far_ off, the opposite of where they are going—there’s a sound akin to thousands of canons going off all at once, and the way that the sky turns colors on the horizon, from grey to purple to black, slowly back to grey again, is ominous enough that even Bitch starts pawing nervously. “That’s that, I suppose,” Izumi murmurs, shivering a little. “I guess that’s why Rei keeps negotiating with him at the end of the day, huh.”

 

“He really does have a lot to offer,” Leo says wistfully. “Just imagine what he could do if he weren’t so…”

 

“Empty,” Kaoru puts in, his voice quiet as he stares at the sky. “He was a god, once, before he was corrupted.”

 

Leo stares, then blinks. “Um. He was what now?”

 

“A seraphim. Natsume told Ritsu, who told me…it gets around,” Izumi mutters, eyes unmoving from the sky as well. “The stuff you call angels, Leo. You called him that for awhile, didn’t you? I wonder if your bond let you know, even sort of subconsciously.”

 

“Fuuuuuck,” Leo says slowly, with feeling.

 

“Yeah. Welcome to the party.”

 

“Yeah. If you want the full explanation, I’m sure Natsume would give it to you. But…that’s the gist of it, I guess.” Izumi shakes his head, nudging Bitch forward. “Ugh. Not to be like this, but I do find some comfort in the fact he likes me.”

 

“He likes you a lot,” Leo agrees. “I think that’s good. It’s at least kind of convenient. And he swore an oath that Rei thinks is binding, to protect our son, so that’s good, too. Wouldn’t it be _nice_ if it worked out this time?”

 

“It would,” Kaoru says, hoping he’s not about to be disemboweled by his bonded, as they crest a ridge and spy the city of Sena. “We can hope, at least.”

 

“He swore it to me,” Izumi quietly says. “I made him. Like a human would swear it, not like…whatever he is now. I don’t know if it’s binding or not, but he sure as hell did save our son.” He sits back a bit in the saddle, sighing as he looks out over the more or less nonexistent city, covered with snow and completely devoid of people. “Here it is,” he says, sounding exhausted. “Try not to judge it this time, will you?”

 

“Saying it was cold wasn’t judging, was it?” Leo asks worriedly. “I didn’t mean it. Izumi…whatever funds you need to rebuild here, you’ll have them. We’ll make it the city you remember again.”

 

“No, it’s always cold. Except in summer, where it’s hot to me, pleasant to people from the Capital, and there’s still snow around.” Izumi heaves a sigh, shakes himself off, and nods, sparing a glance over to Kaoru. “You look like you think you’re about to be eaten.”

 

“Oh, yeah, probably,” Kaoru says with a sigh. “He’s a dragon, you know. And he told me he wouldn’t be satisfied unless Eichi was gelded, and I understand that. You can’t please everyone, you know.”

 

“Sorry,” Leo offers. “I’m sorry an angel is so bad, and you can’t kill him because of me. And I’m sorry that it hurts _really bad_ when he throws himself into one of those things, ow.”

 

“Paladins are fucking weird,” Izumi bluntly says, starting down the hill. “If he wants the pleasure of chopping off Eichi’s balls, he could. I can make them grow back.”

 

“Huh. I wonder if he’d agree to that?” Leo muses. “If it would fix a treaty or something, you know?”

 

Kaoru winces. “I wouldn’t, personally. It would have to be a _hell_ of a treaty.”

 

“He’d probably be really fucking gross about it, too. Because he’s Eichi, and that’s how he is,” Izumi crossly says. “I’m actually pretty grossed out by the knowledge that he’s like that, on a personal level, but I have no idea how to fix that, either. Maybe _I’ll_ duel him.”

 

“But what if he can kill you?” Leo asks. “You don’t know.”

 

“He might be able to,” Kaoru agrees. “Now that he has Sorrow’s Heart.”

 

“You think?” Izumi sounds skeptical. “Are drakes considered…you know, bad? I’ve never heard of a case of a paladin needing to murder one, at any rate. And isn’t it supposed to be like…you think it’s bad so you murder it? I don’t know anything about paladins, actually.”

 

Kaoru licks his lips, then regrets it when the wind bites at him all the colder for it. “Not quite. It’s…ah, hard to explain, but I guess the core essence is that everything must be in its place. Demons in the Shadowlands, humans in the human realm, you know? Well, most of them would say that demons only belong in the Depths, but—it’s a case of what “should” and “shouldn’t” be. And different clans have different ideas about which creature races are acceptable to live alongside humans, at different dilutions. I know, it’s weird, but that’s part of why the paladins need to be overhauled and reformed. And honestly…” His voice drops off guiltily. “I don’t hate the idea of help, powerful help. I don’t know what I’m gods-damned doing.”

 

“Time for me to be the local experiment again, then,” Izumi says, quite casually. “If I’m slutty enough, I bet he’ll let me play with his sword. Sorrow’s Heart, I mean. I’ll find out how much damage it can do to me, which means how far I can push him at any given point. I’m just thinking it might be good to have someone who _can’t_ die when he swings that thing around or tries to bully his way into getting everything he wants, you know? I think he’s hot, but I’m under absolutely no thrall. I swear that’s all bonds are; nicer, squishier thralls.”

 

“Mine is _way_ not nice or squishy,” Leo complains. “And my thrall was perfectly comfy most of the time. Bad example.”

 

“Thralls bad, bonds good,” Kaoru insists. “There’s a difference, ugh!”

 

“Only had a bond, didn’t feel it, just made me anxious and weird. Gonna go with thralls okay, bonds not okay.”

 

“You’re purposely trying to get on my wrong wide about all this! There’s nothing good about thralls!”

 

“You’re the one that won’t duel Eichi for Natsume’s honor…guess I’m not surprised, you have always been kinda soft and melty, just like Rei…”

 

“Wow. You’re awful. Know what, yeah, go duel Eichi, see what happens.”

 

“Yeah, I know I’m not playing fair,” Izumi says, shrugging a shoulder wryly. “Sorry. He won’t kill me, he liked my tits.”

 

“I liked your tits more!” Kaoru protests. “Believe me!”

 

“And yet, now you can’t touch them.” Izumi’s voice is sympathetic. “You’re really neutered. While we’re on that topic, Leo, please don’t pick fights with Natsume right now. I know how you two get.”

 

“I don’t pick fights with him, he picks them with me! He says I’m not his king!”

 

“If we’re going by the laws of the land,” Izumi wearily says, as if he’s had to discuss this a million times before, “you technically aren’t.”

 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not right,” Leo mutters rebelliously, “but I won’t bring it up tonight if he doesn’t.”

 

“I’m going to put those laws in front of you so you don’t embarrass yourself one of these days.”

 

The ride to their tiny little home away from home is short, with only a pause for Rei’s wards to lift upon sensing Kaoru’s presence. It’s quiet and empty now, for the most part, which troubles Izumi for a heartbeat until he hears the quiet, happy gurgling of a baby from the front room. “Thank the gods,” he mutters, mostly to himself, and opens the door.

 

Natsume’s head snaps up from where he sits on the furs, the prince of the realm cuddled into his chest, nursing quite contently from a bottle of goat’s milk. “Good, you’re alive,” he says, sounding far more relieved than the terseness of the words would normally allow. He flips over a tarot card in front of the fire. “Mao left suddenly after I woke up, and you were all gone, and the gate…I felt it close.”

 

“It’s closed,” Kaoru assures him, swinging off the horse and wrapping his arms around Natsume, kissing him soundly. “We’re all fine. We—“

 

He huffs out a breath when Leo knocks into him, not meaning to, but drawn by the sight of the baby in Natsume’s arms, his face transfixed in wonder. “That…that’s…my son,” he says, sounding baffled.

 

Natsume blinks a few times, the sight of Leo suddenly being there taking him off-guard. “Oh. They found you.”

 

“Rei did,” Izumi confirms, busy with peeling his soaking wet socks off of his otherwise bare feet. “You can hand him over, Natsume. Thanks for watching him.”

 

“It’s fine. He’s an easy one.” Natsume pauses, and then asks, bluntly, though not cruelly, “Do you even know how to hold a baby?”

 

“Yeah,” Leo says, deliberately not bristling. “You pick it up by the hair and swing, right? Dumbass, of course I know how to hold a baby, kings have to kiss babies all the time. Gimme.”

 

“Considering you acted like you’ve never seen a child before, I think it was a valid question,” Natsume snorts, carefully handing him over. “Hold his bottle up, he’s hungry.”

 

“I’ll shift and let him nurse later, I _guess_ ,” Izumi sighs, watching fondly all the same. “Have any especially interesting visions about him while we were gone?”

 

“He’s going to destroy the entire world.”

 

“…That…I actually can’t tell if you’re joking?”

 

“I’m joking. I told you before,” Natsume says, muffling a yawn behind one hand as he drifts away back to the fire, “I don’t do Readings unless someone asks for it. Does that baby look like he can consent?”

 

Leo doesn’t respond. His world feels like it’s narrowing, circling, until the only bright spot of light in the darkness is the tiny little figure in his arms, snuggled up warm and soft and safe. “Hi,” he whispers, falling automatically into a little jiggle that feels right. “I’m your Papa. And I’m going to take care of you forever.”

 

“You’ve got to name him,” Izumi quietly says, rubbing a hand down Leo’s back after coming to stand next to him. “I know it’s a law that the king does that or something, so…I waited, even though you disappeared off into the night.”

 

Natsume doesn’t bother making eye contact around them as he stays by the fire, fingers on his cards. _You look like you’re going to off yourself. Come over here and put your head in my lap for a moment._

 

Kaoru slowly detaches himself from the wall, then lays down in front of the hearth, gratefully resting his head in Natsume’s lap. _I have to work with Eichi,_ he thinks, as tonelessly as he can. _If you want me to move and stop touching you, I can._

 

Leo looks at Izumi, his eyes bright, and leans over, resting his head on Izumi’s shoulder. “We really made a family, didn’t we?” he whispers, feeling so happy his heart is about to burst. “You and me.”

 

“…Yeah, and it’s pretty good,” Izumi murmurs, reaching a hand up to gently muss Leo’s hair. “Guess we better tell the Capital we’re actually married now, huh.”

 

Natsume pauses for a moment before setting a hand atop Kaoru’s head, slowly beginning to pet his hair. _I’m guessing he was the one to close the gate, then._

 

 _Yeah. Jumped into it. Rei wants him to reform the paladins, with him at their head._ The misery in Kaoru’s tone is palpable. _Izumi thinks I’m being a giant baby sore loser about not wanting to and being mad at Rei._

 

“How should we announce it?” Leo asks, stroking the baby’s head. “I’m thinking sending out criers, but we have wizards, we could just have them write it on the moon. I’m pretty sure wizards can do that.”

 

 _Does Lord Rei want that?_ Natsume’s eyes slit as they slide back towards Leo. _Or does the “king” want that?_

 

“That seems like a giant waste of wizarding resources, so I’m gonna veto that one on behalf of the Academy,” Izumi dryly says, giving Leo a squeeze all the same, watching their son reach up one tiny hand and grab at Leo’s fingers. “We might wanna be pretty traditional about it, considering nothing else about this is.”

 

“What do you mean? I, the king, stuck my prick between the very pretty thighs of the person I married, and a baby came out. Very traditional.”

 

_Hard to say. It was Rei’s idea, though. He apologized…I think it’s his way of getting Eichi away from you. But I’m not happy about it, and I’m not speaking to him now on a personal note._

 

“Uh…yeah, and I’m actually a guy, a wizard, and the Capital’s still a little weird about me. Plus, I’m going to show up, and then immediately leave again, because the North has to be fixed up immediately. Also, my mom’s going to kill me because I said I’d never marry a king. Let’s stick to traditional.”

 

 _Don’t be like that._ Natsume’s hand doesn’t stop petting, and he sucks in a slow breath, staring into the fire. _I don’t need two of the people I like the most at each others’ throats. I don’t know why he can’t just die already, or be left in a prison to rot, but…if he has to be here…fine, I guess. I’ll deal with it._

 

You don’t have to. Kaoru looks up at Natsume, closing a hand around his. _We can go to the Isles if you want. Leave them to their politics and their squabbles, I won’t be angry at Rei if I don’t have to look the man who raped you in the eye every day._

 

“I’ll mobilize the criers the second I get back to the Capitol, then,” Leo decides, wiggling his finger in the baby’s grasp. “How about Ludo? That’s a good, kingly name.”

 

“Ehhh…I don’t _love_ it. I mean, I guess you aren’t naming him after musical terms like every other thing you’ve ever named, so I’ll give you credit for that…”

 

 _Except I’m a Nightcloak, and I can’t do that. You know what’s worse than Eichi being around? Eichi being around, and no one capable of stopgapping him in the slightest._ Natsume gives his hand a squeeze. _I’ll be fine. Besides, I can’t think of anything that would piss Eichi off more than me sitting at the head of the Academy while he’s not allowed to._

 

 _…Why are you so smart and perfect?_ Kaoru asks wonderingly, reaching a hand up to stroke Natsume’s cheek. _I don’t deserve you. I love you, though._

 

“Ludo is actually the name of my favorite composer! Ah…but maybe you’re right. Cadence is a _good_ name!”

 

“No! No it’s not! Leo, you’re not allowed to name our son Ludo, keep thinking about it.”

 

Natsume’s jaw sets harder when his lower lip threatens to wobble, and he grabs Kaoru’s hand, giving it a firm squeeze before pushing it down. _It has nothing to do with that. I’m just mad. But it’s fine, it just proves my point about a few things, so I can be fine with that._

 

The bedroom door slides open, and Kanata slithers his way out, dripping water and scarcely clothed. “Oh,” he greets slowly, eyes fixing on Leo. “Your Majesty…is here.”

 

“Kanata,” Izumi lowly says into Leo’s ear, “is the reason why your son is not dead. Two healers are definitely better than one in this case, so…be the sweetest you’ve ever been to the weird fish.”

 

Leo carefully settles his son in Izumi’s arms, then walks over to Kanata, and abruptly bows low. “Thank you,” he says formally, “for saving the life of my love and my child. As king, you can have anything you want as a boon. And as me…” He swallows, and launches himself forward, hugging Kanata hard. “Thank you,” he whispers. “So much.”

 

Kanata blinks a few times, then lets a moist hand pet the top of Leo’s head, entirely unconcerned with previous formalities. “Izumi…would’ve done it for me,” he simply says. “And for Chiaki. I’m glad…I was there to help. Ahh…but if you could maybe….ask the dragon to stop coming to High Harbor,” he cheerfully suggests, swaying a bit, “that would be nice…”

 

“The dragon? Oh, Mama?” Leo straightens up, and shrugs. “That shouldn’t be too hard. He left.”

 

“Mmnn…he never… _really_ leaves.”

 

“I mean he went to sleep.” Leo gravitates back towards his husband and son, stroking the baby’s little orange tufts of fuzz. “When the paladin spell thing lifted off of me, he told me I’d be fine, and that he was going back to sleep, and not to wake him up by summoning him for another hundred years if we could help it.”

 

“Ahhh.” Kanata looks relieved at that. “That’s good. Chiaki will be happy.”

 

The wards surrounding the cottage suddenly vibrate, and Kanata glances out through the window, wrinkling his nose.

 

“The wards won’t let him in, will they,” Natsume smugly chimes in, his voice only a bit hoarse.

 

“Nope…should I…?”

 

“Let him freeze.”

 

Leo looks at the others, then back at Izumi. “We can find another place to be,” he says quietly, tugging him towards the door. “I can tell he’s hurting really bad after taking care of the Gate. Thanks, everyone, we’ll see you later.”

 

Izumi hesitates, an odd, uncomfortable moment of feeling rather like a traitor when he briefly locks eyes with Natsume and Kanata washing over him. Well, shit. Siding with wizard resentment wasn’t something he thought he’d ever feel inclined to do. “…I’ll be around,” he awkwardly says, letting Leo draw him away all the same.

 

“About par for the course,” Natsume mutters as the door shuts, gently easing Kaoru out of his lap. “I’ll be back. I just need to go scream into a wall for a minute. ‘Really hurting bad after taking care of the Gate’, fucking good, let him sit out there and rot his arms off…”

 

Natsume stalks into the bedroom, the door slamming behind him, and Kanata watches for a moment longer before sighing and flopping over next to Kaoru. “Nacchan needs to go back to the Academy,” he says, petting Kaoru’s hair before he can get a word in otherwise. “This place is bad.”

 

“You’re bonded,” Kaoru says slowly, resting his head on Kanata’s shoulder. “Do you ever feel like you’re caught between your people and his? Ah, it’s probably different for Wavebred, but…you know what I mean. I don’t even know what I mean. How’s Chiaki? That’s a better question to ask.”

 

“Chiaki’s good.” Kanata pauses for a moment, thinking. “Wavebred…make it easy, in some ways,” he eventually says. “They understand…how a bond effects someone. That we don’t have a choice. That a bond…makes that person our top priority…even when sometimes, we wish that weren’t the case.” Kanata’s eyes lid. “There have been a lot of times when _someone_ asked me to do things I did not want to do. Working with you, for example…”

 

“You liked that by the end, though,” Kaoru says, poking his thigh. “I have it on pretty good authority.”

 

“Mmhm. Even though I thought you were a bad…nasty person…and I know _your_ kind tortured and killed lots and lots of my relatives that had nothing to do with your wars.” Kanata tilts his head. “Buuuut…I’m not saying this is good. In fact…I think you should know…your baby is with Chiaki right now.”

 

Kaoru feels his heart flutter. “That’s good,” he says quietly. “I trust him completely. You two…are you ever going to have kids? Notice, by the way, how good I’m being about saying absolutely nothing about your relatives, or how things look from the other side of those wars.”

 

“You’re a good boy. A stupid boy, but good. Chiaki and I have already laid lots of eggs. You should go to High Harbor and take your baby.”

 

“I’m sorry, eggs?”

 

“Kaoru…you know I’m usually _mostly_ fish.”

 

“Well, _yeah_ ,” Kaoru says, a little plaintively. “But your parts have been all…and Chiaki’s as human as they get, he’s as human as a paladin.”

 

“I turn into a female fish, and Chiaki’s seed fertilizes the eggs, and then we have lots of fish.” Kanata pauses, and sighs sadly. “Well…in theory…being a wizard kinda…messes that up, but it’s okay. Maybe one day. You’re deliberately ignoring what I’m telling you.”

 

Kaoru pauses, and looks at the fire, watching the flames lick at the logs. “I imagined having a child with Rei for a hundred years. I never imagined raising it with someone else.”

 

“You may not yet,” Kanata softly says. “But…for now…I think it would be good if you had him. There’s still too much happening, and…” He exhales a long breath. “I’ve known Rei for as long as I’ve been alive,” he admits. “He tries too hard…to please everyone. Which eventually means…no one is happy. But what you have to remember…more than anything…is Eichi is the worst. He’s the problem. He’s…never been able to touch me, directly, but he’s tried. And now, I can never forgive him or trust him. Rei, on the other hand…is Rei. Pretty good.”

 

“…I know,” Kaoru says, and wipes a hand down his face. “I know. I know he’s good. I know he tries. In a way, that makes everything even worse, because it’s like…I know he’s trying to help, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t hurting people. It just…”

 

He huffs, stretching out his legs, warming his toes. “It sucks, because I think…it’s easier to be angry at Rei, because he feels bad for the bad shit he does. It just bounces off of Eichi. God, I’m actually angrier at Rei, for asking me to work with Eichi, than I am at Eichi, for all the shit he’s done. What the fuck, right?”

 

Kanata nods, and sways to the side, letting his weight gently thunk against Kaoru. “It’s okay to be mad at Rei. I yell at him a lot, about a lot of things. He gets better, if you do. Eichi just likes it.” He makes a face. “Which is gross. Nnh. Sometimes…you’re _too_ gentle, Kaoru. Natsume, too. That’s why…I’m not that surprised you two ended up like this.”

 

Kaoru’s smile is crooked. “Not like you and Chiaki at all, then, huh?” he teases. “I’m still waiting for the day you get too hungry and eat him whole.”

 

“One day,” Kanata cheerfully says, swaying back. “I’m not hungry enough yeeet…but we’ll see. I like looking at him too much to eat him yet.”

 

“You’ll die, if you eat him, though,” Kaoru points out, with an amused raised eyebrow.

 

“Yeah…that’s why not _yet._ ”

 

“Oh. Got it.” Wavebred are weird. This one is hot, but still…weird.

 

Natsume emerges before Kanata can open his mouth to say more, his eyes faintly red-rimmed and cheeks unhappily flushed. “I don’t see any point in being up here now,” he briskly says. “And _someone_ needs to be at the Academy.”

 

Kanata cranes his head back to look at him. “We should all stop over in High Harbor…you should make the portal, Nacchan…”

 

“…I’ll make a portal for you, but I’d rather get back to work, Lord Kanata.” Natsume hesitates, fiddling with the ties of Rei’s Nightcloak, still pooling about his shoulders and more or less drowning him. “When is Lord Rei coming back? He is, right? I don’t want to keep this forever…”

 

“I’m sure he’s coming back soon.” Kanata wobbles to his feet. “Kaoru, come with me for a day.”

 

Kaoru shoots a look at Natsume. “Do you mind?” he asks quietly. “I’ll go with you if you prefer, but I think this might be important.”

 

Natsume snorts. “What, and have you bored out of your mind at the Academy while I have to play catch up? I think not. Go, we’ll meet up later when you’re done.”

 

“See? It’s fine,” Kanata says, grasping for Kaoru’s hands. “It’ll be good.”

 

The fire turns green with a flick of Natsume’s finger, and he bends to scoop up his abandoned cards in front of it. “Whenever you want, just walk in. It’s set to the estate.”

 

 _It could be ours,_ Kaoru finds himself thinking wistfully, but that’s another man’s life, something he’s never even wanted for himself. For Natsume, though…the domestic life has some appeal, he has to admit. Some very cute appeal.

 

Sitting around thinking about that won’t fix anything, though, so he stands, straightening his clothes. “I’ll come find you soon,” he promises. “Just give me a day. Kanata hasn’t led me wrong yet.”

 

“He’s definitely spiriting you away,” Natsume deadpans, entirely unfazed. “Like a siren of old.”

 

“That’s the iideeaaa,” Kanata hums, pulling Kaoru to the fire. “I’ll eat you _first_ , Kao~ru…”

 

Kaoru sighs, and heads for the fire. “I kinda wish that still did anything for me,” he says wistfully, with a crooked grin at Natsume. “Sorry, I’m a taken man, now.”

 

Natsume huffs at that, folding his arms as he watches Kanata poke at the fire, as if dubious that it isn’t going to dry him out completely even though it clearly glows green with magic. Then, awkwardly, he finally says, “Wait. Just—a second, hold on.”

 

He disappears into the bedroom and returns with his bag, which he rummages through for a moment, as if what he’s looking for had been stuffed back in rather hastily. “Don’t put too much stock in this,” he says, sounding embarrassed as he pulls out a small, braided tassel that looks like it might be hair, might be yarn (it’s red and white, at any rate), with a strand of beaded stone gems strung through it. “But—well, even if it’s for a day, if you’re going to be…you know, apart from me, you should have some kind of protection,” he mutters, striding back over and looping it through part of Kaoru’s belt before he can protest. “Most people think it’s superstitious at best, but I’m a real wizard and everything, so it might do something.”

 

Kaoru looks down at the charm, and feels his throat close up in sudden, overwhelming affection. Then he grabs Natsume by the arms, bending him nearly backwards to kiss him hard, eyes closed, tasting him and holding him as if he’s trying to swallow him whole. _I don’t want to go because you won’t be there,_ he thinks, the words too embarrassing to say aloud.

 

Then he pulls back, cheeks pink, and looks down at Natsume’s face. He reaches up to unbuckle his cloak pin, and sets it to Natsume’s bodice. “When you get a new Nightcloak, put this on. Until then…it looks good on you,” he says, liking the look of his family crest on Natsume’s body.

 

Natsume, face bright pink, lifts a hand shakily to his lips, then drops it down to the pin, his fingers curling against it. “…I’ll…be at the Academy,” he manages, taking a shaky step backwards so that he doesn’t just end up stuffing his face right back into Kaoru’s chest. “Whenever you’re done…I’ll make a portal for you.”

 

“…Cute,” Kanata fondly says as he watches them both. “I _really_ miss Chiaki now…”

 

“Let’s go,” Kaoru says, tousling Natsume’s hair for just a second, just _one second_ before turning away, striding purposely to the fire so he doesn’t turn around again, the amulet tapping against his thigh. “Let’s go see your egg-layer.”


	45. Chapter 45

 

The West is _really_ just as cold as the North, especially in the middle of nowhere.

 

Mao, bundled up, still sneezing, and grumpily wondering why he’s been summoned _here_ , of all places, realizes it with a sudden burst of relief and worry, all at once with incredible force.

 

Keito. Keito is absolutely here, and Koga, sitting on the front porch, wearing… _are those knitted booties?_

 

Well, it tells him who else might be present, for sure.

 

“Ah, you beat me here.”

 

The low rumble of Rei’s voice from behind him out of absolutely nowhere doesn’t make him jump. It makes him sigh. “Wasn’t I supposed to see him weeks ago?” Mao wearily asks, trudging through the snow up to the little cottage. “Leaving him out here all along…”

 

“I had others check on him,” Rei dismisses, patting Koga on the head and narrowly avoiding his irritably snapping teeth before opening the door to hold it open for Mao. “A present for you, Keito~”

 

“Do you _have_ to say it like that?” Mao exasperatedly says, shaking off as much snow as he can before stepping inside.

 

Keito shoots Rei a glare. “Not now, you’re already in trouble for your behavior,” he says, before his face softens, though he still frowns as he looks at Mao. “You look thin, isn’t anyone making sure you’re fed? Don’t worry about your boots, they’ll dry by the fire, shut that door. Not too loudly, you’ll wake Her Highness.”

 

Mao blinks, and carefully turns to pull the door shut. “Her…Highness?”

 

Rei bites back a snort of laughter. “ _Please_ tell me that’s how you refer to Shu now.”

 

Keito blinks innocently, pushing up his glasses. “I just thought you wouldn’t want to hear yet a fifteenth rehash of the, ‘Booties are of course manly and every wolf wishes he were wearing them’ argument. Or do you want an audience for what you’re going to tell Mao?”

 

“To be fair,” Rei manages, still trying not to start snickering, “Koga obviously thinks the booties are an _excellent_ fashion statement.”

 

“He’s going to kill you,” Mao lightly says, unfastening his cloak when it at least looks like he’s not going to be asked to leave any time soon. “Ahh…what am I being told?”

 

“Well,” Rei hedges, taking a seat next to the fire, “let’s see. I’m sorry?”

 

“Ah…okay?”

 

“Apologize _after_ you tell him what you did to him,” Keito says wearily, far from over his issues with the secrets. “What you’ve been keeping from him.”

 

“Should I make tea for this?” Mao asks after a moment’s pause. “I probably should.”

 

“No, no, sit down, sit down,” Rei sighs, fluttering a hand. “Mao. You’re a smart boy.”

 

“I think I’m well enough educated?”

 

“You know there’s more to our contract.”

 

Mao pauses again, then shrugs a shoulder slowly. “If this is supposed to be helping a horde of secrets come alight, Lord Rei,” he quietly says, “you’re rarely subtle with most things…around me. I appreciate that. Sir—ah, Keito, sorry,” he corrects himself, a little embarrassed by the slip-up. “I don’t know what Lord Rei has been telling you, but—“

 

“I’ve been stopping you from blooming. Likely like your sister.”

 

“Oh.” Mao’s head tilts. “That explains a lot.”

 

Rei looks to Keito, eyebrows raised. “Look, see? He’s not even mad.”

 

“Oh,” Keito says mildly, folding his arms. “Wait until he hears the rest of it. Also, honestly, Mao, stand up for yourself a little more, he should have told you, at least in the last several years.” He looks between them, and suddenly, can’t see the look on Mao’s face when he hears, and turns towards the fire. “I’ll make the tea.”

 

“Would it have made a difference, though? Having another wizard to train instead of a capable Enhanced would’ve been a problem,” Mao points out, standing a moment longer before he picks out his own seat, shivering until he settles close to the flames. “Ah, that actually sounds _really_ troublesome, now that I think about it…though more of your training makes sense. It’s the sort of thing you’d do for wizards rather than Enhanced. What else haven’t you told me?”

 

Rei sighs, lacing his hands together in his lap. “This one…well, Keito is totally justified in being upset with me, and you will be, too, I know.” He licks his lips, contemplating how to say it, before deciding to just be blunt. “I only realized this recently,” he finally says. “I was touching Natsume, and I happened to look at you…and I saw your bond.”

 

Mao blinks a few times, his brow furrowing. “…The one to Ritsu…is _definitely_ fake,” he says after a moment, glancing around as if to make sure Ritsu isn’t there, lurking in the corner and ready to firmly tell him otherwise.

 

“Not that one. You _do_ have one, Mao.”

 

Mao lets that sink in, and his eyes slowly slide to Keito, watching him make their tea. “Oh. _Oh_. Wait, seriously?”

 

“Yes, and I’m sorry for not—“

 

“But that’s great, isn’t it?” Mao excitedly pops up from where he’d just sat, darting after Keito. “Why did you think I’d be upset? That’s a good thing! I mean, we’re…” He trails off, face suddenly flushing, feeling awkward. “I, uh. Well, I thought we were…”

 

Keito, suddenly annoyed, grabs the still-dry teabag and throws it at Rei, where it bounces off harmlessly with a really quite irritating lack of impact. “This is your fault!” he snaps. “You’ve been leading him around by the nose so long he can’t even be angry at you when you mess up his life! And _you_ ,” he continues, rounding on Mao, but the words die on his tongue, seeing that uncertain look of faded happiness.

 

He drops the other teabag he’d been holding, feeling his mouth go dry. “You aren’t…unhappy?” he asks, and could curse himself for how pathetic he sounds.

 

“Why would I be?” Mao warily asks, rubbing at one of his arms, suddenly pretty sure he’s missed the whole point of what he’s _supposed_ to be unhappy about. “We’ve…I mean, we’ve been living together for years, more or less? I thought we were…you know…kind of…a thing?”

 

“This is nice tea,” Rei lightly says, tossing the teabag back to let it bounce against the side of Mao’s head. “You shouldn’t throw it at people.”

 

Mao sighs before bending to scoop it up. “…Would it really have changed that much?” he quietly asks. “Knowing, I mean? I feel like I just would’ve been lazier, because I wouldn’t’ve wanted to leave the house as much, heh. I mean, that’s even assuming we could feel it or whatever…even some really strong wizards can’t. But…I dunno, it just feels like being told that it’s there affirms what we already knew.”

 

Keito’s lips thin, lines of stress appearing around his eyes and between his brows. “You aren’t…well, you should be angry,” he says, finishing almost in a mumble. “Rei, he knows now, so take that damned thing off of him. And don’t gloat about him accepting this, _I’m_ still angry on his behalf.”

 

“Hey, no, hold on,” Mao interrupts, grabbing at Keito’s hands. “You’re not allowed to be angry at all, not about this. Unless I’m really missing something, and—you don’t want it? In which case, there’s no _way_ I’m letting him end our contract and having you be bothered by it.”

 

Keito’s face is startled, and he turns back to Mao, stepping between him and Rei, squeezing back. “You’re not missing—I mean, you might be missing some things, but not that.” He raises one hand, and brushes the hair out of Mao’s eyes. “Not that,” he repeats, voice a little hoarse. “I just…ah. Wish he’d told you ten years ago when I had more good years to give you. Wish he’d been honest—or that he’d lied to protect _you_ , not your ex-boyfriend.”

 

“I technically _did_ lie to protect him, you ass,” Rei wearily says. “You know, from Eichi? The single most dangerous man alive that has a horrible fascination with you and is so possessive that he hasn’t allowed you to have a proper romantic life while still simultaneously refusing to—“

 

“It’s really fine,” Mao swiftly interrupts. “It’s—it’s all fine, honestly. Just, ah. Can you maybe not call Ritsu my ‘ex-‘ boyfriend? I’m not sure he’d, um, take that so well?”

 

“Protecting him from Eichi—it’s a good line,” Keito growls, putting a hand on Mao’s shoulder. “And I’d have believed it, if you’d brought this up eight years ago, and not just when your pet paladin got angry about it!”

 

“More like when Eichi came back and it became pertinent again,” Rei shoots back.

 

“I’m really not that upset about it,” Mao hastily says, holding up his hands. “It would’ve been nice to know, sure, but it wouldn’t have changed my behavior all that much!”

 

“Do you want the Academy?” Rei bluntly asks him, rising from his chair. “If I end our contract and you bloom, you’ll be a Nooncloak, at the least. I need someone at the forefront that knows the Academy inside and out.”

 

Mao hesitates, his eyes sliding to Keito as he says, “I mean…I’ve…more or less been running it for the past eight years, so…”

 

“Don’t make any promises until Rei takes that thrall off of you,” Keito urges, trying to keep himself from snapping as a matter of course. If he simply reacts without listening, they’re right to ignore him, he supposes. “I don’t want him leaning on you without either of you knowing it. Then you can make the decision on your own, and I won’t say another word about it.”

 

Mao hesitates one more time, then holds out his hand, palm up. “I’ll do it,” he says, meeting Rei’s eyes. “But for no more than five years. And only, _only_ if I still want to, once our contract is gone.”

 

“Fair enough.”

 

Rei takes Mao’s hand, gives it a firm squeeze, and braces for the explosion that typically comes with the blooming of every wizard he’s ever known as he pulls back, and dissolves the thrall of power that has rested upon Mao for years.

 

And there’s…nothing. There’s just the quiet, collected thrum of another magic user in the room, steady and calm.

 

“I don’t know what I was expecting,” Mao says, voice a bit dazed, blinking rapidly to refocus on the world around him. “Was that…it?”

 

“I suppose all that training did do something,” Rei softly says, the odd relief at no longer holding onto such a thing after so many years washing over him. “Are you sure you feel all right?”

 

“Totally fine, somehow?”

 

A dish rag catches suddenly on fire, and Mao blushes as he whips around to stamp it out. “Sorry! Sorry. I’ll, uh. I’ll polish this up.”

 

“This is a perfect child,” Rei bluntly says to Keito. “Are you aware?”

 

“You’re wrong,” Keito says quietly, watching Mao with an almost-painful tug on his heart that has nothing to do with magic. “That is a perfect grown man. And I love him.”

 

“I don’t feel like a grown man!”

 

“Fortunately, he’s all yours,” Rei says with a wry smile, folding his arms. “So, Mao—still interested in helping me with one more job?”

 

Mao turns around from hastily sweeping up ashes, exhales a breath as he thinks about it, and finally nods, tossing aside the crispy rag to reach for one of Keito’s hands. “One more job,” he says firmly. “Just one. Is…that okay with you?” His lips twitch. “Sir?”

 

Keito doesn’t try to keep himself from smiling, first at Rei, then more softly at Mao. “I trust you,” he says simply. “Also…you’ll need at least one person to help with the Enhanced. I’ve worked at the Academy before, so if you want to avoid having to train someone…”

 

“ _Please_ come help me,” Mao groans in relief, giving Keito’s hand a firm squeeze. Something else lights on fire, for sure, judging by the burning smell, and Rei idly steps back to find where it is. “I need someone else that knows what they’re doing. And, ah—I absolutely kept your quarters the way they were before. Sketchbooks in weird places and everything.”

 

Spots of color appear in Keito’s cheeks, but he doesn’t let go, even when the contact feels as if it’s sparking against his skin, sending little shocks through him. _He really does shine like a star,_ he thinks, embarrassed at his own sentimentality. “And you never read them or looked through, right?”

 

“Nope,” Mao cheerfully lies. “Not even once.” His eyes lid as he steps closer, then lets his head thunk against Keito’s shoulder, a little shiver going through him at the strangeness of contact without a layer of…something _else_ for once. “It doesn’t feel any different,” he says after a moment. “I didn’t think it would. I’m pretty sure…I’ve known about this for awhile.”

 

“Well, I don’t feel anything.” Keito pauses. “That isn’t what I mean. You…you know that, right?” He swallows, then complains, “Rei, go outside, you don’t get to see me like this.”

 

“It’s cold. I’m going to bother my queen,” Rei says with a wave of his hand, drifting back through the cottage.

 

Mao lifts his head, expression wry. “I know what you mean. But that’s good, right? Nothing changed. We didn’t miss anything.”

 

Keito watches him slowly for a moment, squeezing his hands. Self-deprecating words die on his tongue, because really, any protesting at this point would just be churlish ingratitude.

 

And he has at least a couple of decades before he forces Rei to break their bond, anyway. He might as well make them good ones. “I hope you learn a fancy spell to make my knee stop making sounds,” he says mildly. “It’s the only thing keeping me from asking you to dance with me right now.”

 

“Doubt I will,” Mao says with a grin, wrapping his arms around Keito’s waist and leaning up to kiss him, absolutely unconcerned with the enormous wolf watching them from outside of the window. “But I’m about to be the Emperor—and I sure as hell can find you a wizard that can.”

 

“Wizards, huh?” Keito teases, pulling Mao close. “I heard they’re a lot of trouble to deal with. You’re not going to be one of _those_ wizards making my life hard, are you?” He flicks a glance at Koga, then leans down unapologetically, brushing his lips across Mao’s.

 

The dish towel catches on fire again.

 

“…Yeah,” Mao says with a snort of laughter, squishing himself into Keito’s chest. “I think that’s going to be me.”

 

Keito’s arms tighten around Mao’s shoulders, pulling him close. “As long as it’s just you.” _No thrall, no fake bond, no forced loyalties. Just Mao, and whoever he chooses to be._ “I think just you is going to be fine by me.”

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
